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#ignorant hard-working bastard
tibli · 3 months
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people treating either dirk or jake as the 'villain' of the relationship fundamentally misunderstand that they were isolated teenagers with social issues who both contributed to the relationship's problems, and neither of them are evil
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katasstrophy · 1 year
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michael kaiser is one of those millionaire fuckboy bastard athletes who’s all smug and “i’m a man who’s got very specific taste” but it’s just women who literally could not give a single shit about him shut up you know i’m so right for this
yeah sure he fucks around that’s easy practically a piece of fucking cake for him but as soon as you click your tongue at him in rejection like he’s an insignificant little ant you can crush with pin-point precision under your heels? he’s infatuated. borderline obsessed and insufferable in his pursuit of you. he’s so pathetic he immediately commits himself to you, literally physically can’t bring himself to take some new fling to bed because all he wants is you, you, you, you’ve ruined him he’s lovesick he’s insane.
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elenatria · 10 months
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U know I love Valoris!!!and I m quite new to it. I was going through tags on ao3 and as I had guessed,most of the fics contain a top! Boris stuff.seriously, top/bottom is not that important for me if the smut is written well but i think this fandom should've explored more of bottom! Boris cuz I think it's quite an interesting troop like boris, as the self confident power bottom and valery as this uncertain top who doesn't know how to properly bang him (lol). Or an unconventional omega! Boris. No one believes that he is an omega and his partners makes fun of him as if he is some kind of freak and then valery walks in the life of this unmated omega. Valery,an alpha who has been accidentally Harrasesd cuz of being mistaken for an omega!!ohh,non-traditional alpha/omega are my jam and that's why I m dropping this idea here.this fandom seems kinda dead to me. Hope that i would've joined it much earlier to interact with more people!!
Well my approach to top/bottom is that some pairings have clearly defined roles and some don't. For instance I do believe that Boris is an undeniable top in most people's headcanons/fics whereas, say, in Alexenk (Tetris) both Alexey and Henk could be top.
However one of my pet kinks is having the two partners switch at some point in their relationship. As you said, top/bottom is not that important if the smut is written well.
As for not having explored bottom!Boris as a fandom... yeah I feel you. Personally, I did intend to include a bottom!Boris chapter in my fic, and I got as far as giving hints that it *might* happen in future chapters.
Chapter 11.
“I’ll let you have mine,” the prime minister gestured towards his Medovik cake. “You boys have fun without me. Valery, can I hug you?”
Valery’s face went white as a sheet but the Premier quickly bent down and wrapped his arms around him, kissing both cheeks. Before letting go, Ryzhkov whispered in his ear.
“I’d give you the fraternal kiss as well but Boris said he’d make a necklace of my balls if I dared do that.”
They both smothered a laugh and Valery was grateful that they could share this tiny moment, a glimpse of what it would be like to be friends with that man.
Ryzhkov tightened his grip around him, his lips almost touching his ear. “A little word of advice,” he murmured. “Our boy likes to bottom occasionally.”
 Valery felt his jaw drop, all the blood in his body rising to his cheeks.
“He likes…” Ryzhkov continued, “well… losing control when the pressure is too much. So many responsibilities on his shoulders, you understand. He won’t admit it at first but trust me, he will be thanking you later - with grateful tears.”
He gave Valery’s cheek one last kiss and before the scientist could utter a proper “goodbye”, he was gone.
And a sneak peek at my chapter 12 WIP:
“I’m sorry, Mr Petrov, but we must go,” Valery intervened grabbing Boris by the elbow. “We’ve had an exhausting day but I will be back for Inga, all right? Just a few more weeks.”
For all the fear of being caught, a rush of blood made Boris’ manhood twitch as hard fingers dug into his arm: there was something irresistible in the decisive touch that was bossing him around. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for this man, he realized, as the sudden image of Valery thrusting his assertiveness into him with whispered orders and sweet praise flashed through his brain.
"Valery as this uncertain top who doesn't know how to properly bang him" - Yeap, that's my headcanon of bottom!Boris right there. I can totally see Boris being the power bottom he is, at first being patient with Valery, amused and filled with tenderness because of his inexperience, then ordering him to fuck him harder. 😏
As for the fandom being "dead", well, that's in the eye of the beholder if you ask me.
@progressi9, @fuerst-von-argot and I will be going to Lithuania soon to spot HBO Chernobyl filming locations. Would be nice if we could turn this into a Valoris meet-up with the rest of the fans.
@johnlockismyreligion still writes Valoris fics (I'm finishing the illustration for her latest one as we speak).
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@chernobylflowers is making Valoris vids non-stop and posting them on tiktok and Instagram.
@legasovas is always here to lend an ear and share her wit and wisdom on all things Legasov, same goes for @green-ann (more into the history of Chernobyl and spotting historical locations than Valoris themselves, but still active and super dedicated).
Finally, @fuerst-von-argot will assure you that you're not the only one who joined the fandom "late". 😋 And she's more passionate and dedicated than most people back in the day who were super active and created content but have now moved on. As I always say, being a Valoris fan is not a sprint, it's a marathon. She too sometimes feels she should have joined the fandom early on but hey, at least you guys dodged the childish discord dramaz among Valoris fans and, most importantly, the haters that used to literally rain fire on us. 😝
So enjoy this Phase 4 of the Valoris fandom. Maybe it's not as populated but at least you get to enjoy only what's important: the content itself.
And if the existing content seems not enough to you, or relevant, if it doesn't feel current anymore, this is your time to create Valoris content yourself, whether it's a collaboration or a solo project.
I assure you we'll be here for it. ✊☢🏭
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squisheebugdoodles · 1 month
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I'd think archie sleeping on top of me or by my head was sweeter if he didn't only ever do it to try and mind control me into waking up to feed him tbh hsnsbsnsn
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oceanxveiined · 9 months
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 Genshin Verse Side Muses:
*Mentions of abuse, dysfunctional families, manipulation, torture, violence, experimentation, ableism, transphobia, and death, not necessarily all present/to various extents depending on each bio, ahead.
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1) Chang Da’Lun (500+/appears 23): Half-Adeptus, born some time before the Cataclysm. He can shift into a smaller birdlike form at will, though it does take a bit out of him to switch back. It doesn’t stop him from shifting into it on his own or a friend's whim though.
          His father was a Yaksha named Wuye, alias Caligo, who had inevitably become consumed by his karmic debt and became more akin to a malevolent demon. Though admittedly, the adeptus had already possessed quite the cruel streak, even long before he’d fallen. Being driven mad by the karmic debt meant his slaughters turned to fellow adepti and humans alike, which had also grown to be far more frequent and brutal. Each consumed opponent led his power to grow as he’d absorb their vitality and any abilities they possessed.
          By contrast Da’lun’s mother, Anhe, had been fully human, having been with a group of treasure hunters who’d taken her from her family in ransom when they’d strayed too close to the maddened Yaksha’s territory. When they had realized and tried to sneak away, she risked her life to draw Wuye out and betrayed them all in a desperate bid for freedom and power. She offered them all to be slaughtered and devoured by the corrupted Yaksha, as well as to offered to lure more to satisfy his bloodlust for incentive to make him spare her own life. She even offered to be his consort as well, to let herself be used by him as he saw fit, sparing no expense to give anything and everything she could to ensure she survived this encounter. He conceded out of convenience, taking her as promised and continuing his slaughters about Wuwang Hill with her aid.
          Anhe delighted in having his favor, even with how terrified of him she’d been at first, growing more and more sadistic herself with every massacred he’d rend, every death scream that filled her ears while she remained unscathed. The thrill of power and having a mate so powerful to keep it was too alluring and far too intoxicating, she would never dream of ever parting from him.
         Only for her to end up alone and powerless anyway when the former Yaksha was killed shortly after the birth of Da’Lun.
         Much of his childhood had been Anhe relentlessly tormenting him, using him as a scapegoat for how her life had fallen apart and due to having been affected by his father’s karmic debt as well ( both in her continued presence alongside him up until that point and in stubbornly lingering at his lair where the miasma was all concentrated rather than returning home with him gone ). Da’Lun took the abuse without protest, wholeheartedly believing her and his own guilt. He spent his whole life striving to ‘make up’ for his existence, in bringing her gifts and attempting to make her life easier every way he could. To protect and provide for her as his father had intended.
         It all came to a crashing stop when his mother at last succumbed to the cursed energy infesting their home. Or so he tells himself and anyone who ponders of her fate, not wanting to admit he himself had killed and devoured her. It had been when she’d tried to end his life first and the resulting corruption of them both had his adeptal nature spiraling out of control during the struggle. His Electro Vision had been what had ultimately murdered her, bestowed upon him during his struggle as she denounced and cursed him, which he hadn’t realized until the morning after.
         Plagued with guilt and fear, and knowing he must have taken on her share of the karmic debt's influence, his father's ability considered, he traveled Teyvat to distance himself from his former home for a few years. For 500 years, he witnessed beauty and horrors alike throughout it all, before he decided to settle some time in Sumeru. His main aim had been to learn all he could on humans and their histories ( learning from each Darshan over the course of the centuries he’d spent there, changing his appearance every time he’d reapply ), as well as to pass the time in a way that would not aggravate lingering traces of his father’s influence. It was while he learnt from the Amurta Darshan when he met Danae. With time to spare, and admittedly intrigued by the utter madness of her ideas and her equally frenzied determination to see such impossible fantasies made reality, he signed a contract to assist her in any endeavors she may undertake for them, as she would his own, per its terms. They would maintain it dedicatedly before briefly parting ways when her illicit studies were discovered.
         He himself remained at the Akademiya mere weeks before deciding his life had dulled too much without her odd ideas and eccentric ( not to mention at times exceedingly cruel ) methods, setting off to travel again in search of her. Traveling through his homeland, he would come to meet Ozzy, whom he would follow to Mondstadt, after he’d found him interesting company, especially when the man would encourage him to not feel so wary of the karmic debt’s influence. There, he would become a founding member of his gang when it resulted that the man’s interest had been likewise piqued and thus given him the invitation to stay.
          Ozzy was able to locate and drag Danae into his business thanks to Da’Lun’s scheming and using the terms of their contract to rope her in.
         What could he say? He would be a fool to let one of his favorite pieces go. Just as he would the chance to see what would come out of putting so many volatile little components together.
           Surely the end result would be most spectacular indeed.
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Oswald “Ozzy” Beauregard / Ásvaldr Bjornsson (appears early 20s): One of the remaining survivors of Khaenri’ah, though he keeps that card very close to his chest. Only Da’Lun is actually aware of said fact, due to their shared longevity and closer bond compared to many of the others. If asked of his origin, he will always give the half-truth that he is of the Sumeru region.
         Stricken with immortality, Ozzy tends to push the limits of what said immortality will do for him, especially since his perception of pain and danger has been skewed severely by his curse. For the longest time, he had wandered about the desert and Sumeru’s forests, picking fight after fight using the very Abyssal energies he’d been corrupted with. Even with no formal combat training outside teachings he learnt as apprentice mage, his frenzied manner tended to allow him to prove a match for the hilichurls, Eremites, and Treasure Hoarders he encountered, leaving brutalized corpses and wreckages in his wake, and plenty a scar to mar his own body. Some of which healed worse off than others due to his inability and lack of real want to properly care for himself. Eventually, he would be found and formally taken in by the Fatui when he had too grievously injured to fight them off.
Not that he would have wanted to even if he could, considering how much they piqued his interest.
        He had been with them long before Danae had joined, having willingly surrendered himself to be experimented on by Dottore out of boredom and curiosity to see what the man could get out of it. As well as a vain hope to possibly stave off his Erosion and keep his mind with the Abyssal energies eating away at it. Needless to say, Ozzy’s sanity still had taken quite the toll throughout the centuries he’s been alive, and the outright torture he faced through the time he’d been with them had truly not helped in the least. Especially not while being injected with god remains steadily twisted up his mind, more and more. The Abyssal energy he’d already been afflicted with had ironically been what helped keep himself through it though, allowing him to fully assimilate the god’s lingering energy into himself and steady his condition.
         When Danae had decided to desert the Fatui, she broke Ozzy out from containment and left him an experimental Delusion to have him serve as a diversion so she could escape, figuring he would have some exploitable grudge that would prompt him to seek vengeance. And he served his purpose well, slaughtering Fatuus after Fatuus he encountered with the three tail-like, bladed chains he could manifest from it. He did so with great delight and utmost zeal, damn near like an animal in frenzy. But in truth, he really cared not for getting even. He rather merely wanted enrichment, as he called it.
         While Danae had figured the Delusion would simply kill him in the end, his own longevity and the god remains he’d assimilated allowed him to use the Delusion so freely without truly permanent consequences, though still at certain cost to his body after particularly prolonged usage. It severely aggravates the place with the god remains had been injected, low at his right side where the Abyssal energy was at its highest concentration. Due to it also being the place of his most severe wound and one of the ones that truly never healed properly, it leaves him feeling as though something had been gouged right out every time he’d stop its use. Still, in the moment of that first use, all he could think of was the thrill of the fighting and being able to run about, free at last. To this day, that very thrill is what keeps him using it, even knowing the painful consequences.
         The euphoric high he felt back then lead him to completely destroy the location all together, both in his own kills and in tampering the delicate machinery that would consume the rest of the location along with it in the ensuing explosions. He himself made his getaway before the destruction caught him up along with everything else, after finding and bringing along a fellow victim ( not that he consciously saw himself as such ) of the Fatui experiments.
         After hearing tales of Monstadt, her homeland, the idea of a nation whose Archon had no real say in its ruling appealed to him greatly, Thus, he would hijack and man a Fatui ship to gain leave off Inazuma, heading to the Southern side of Liyue, and making their journey back to Mond that way.
         Ozzy’s aim in making the gang had solely been to collect interesting people to surround himself with, nothing more nothing less. Something to help stave off ennui and keep his mind sharp; a little pet project he could maintain or ruin at his leisure when the time came. It only became a formal organization incidentally, but he finds it a decent pastime to run it and especially the business he and Da’Lun came up with as a front.
          Due to past experiences, he has a mild to severely violent visceral reaction to fire based abilities; which is only worsened by his love of deliberately avoiding triggering his own phobia and habit of gambling with extreme stakes, typically involving fire in some way.
         What sort of gambling man would he be if he let something like that stop him, after all?
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Elisabeth “Eliza” Merrimack (18) - A Mondsadt-born girl whose family lineage traces back to the Imunlaukr clan, after the clan had broken up due to a schism. Originally Visionless, she would gain a Dendro Vision ( chronologically set late in the events of the Sumeru Archon Quest ) and take up Catalyst-based combat.
         The eldest daughter of her main family at the time, she had a horse riding accident in her youth that left her paraplegic, exhibiting little to no movement in her legs even after treatment at the church. The fact that it had taken them some time to get her there, seeing as she had been lost for days, was probably behind it. Regardless, her family despaired at the incident, frantically trying everything they could to heal her, even as the church insisted nothing could be done. Even as she herself tried to reason it was alright; that she didn't need to be, having accepted their verdict when her family could not. And they never truly did.
         When she was fifteen, the Merrimacks ultimately accepted an offer from the Fatui to aid them ( though in hindsight, Eliza couldn’t but wonder if it had been seen as an excuse to have them take her off their hands ), and carted her off far from home. Betrayed at her family giving her away so easily, especially after she realized they would not check up on her or visit, Eliza at last fell into despair after seeing what awaited her at the hands of the Fatui. Her parents had been lied to, after all–Eliza had not been taken in to receive care, instead becoming subjected to experiments with god remains like every other subject they got their hands on.
          And no one would be aware of that to come save her. Assuming they would even care to try if they did.
         Things began to change years later after meeting Danae, who was assigned to oversee her. To be precise, Danae had at first been in charge of her post-op treatments, ensuring the effects of the experiments didn’t disrupt her vitals and in keeping her alive overall. They began to know more of each other and interact after the then Fatuus had been promoted and would have her as an exclusive subject, due to her ideas and personal project.
          Even with how callous Danae could be, she and Eliza eventually came to get along well due to Eliza coming to understand Danae’s wordless gestures and tough-love care after the former had begun to get attached to Eliza. Said care usually being in the form of snuck treats and material comforts. It wasn’t until later on in their friendship that Eliza learned it had been because she reminded Danae of her younger brother, that she had specifically requested to oversee her treatments because she wanted to help her like she'd intended to help him. Learning why and how she intended to do that did embitter Eliza rather than endear her though.
That said, they truly became each other’s first real friend and confidante after Eliza had been–even if gruffly–encouraged by Danae to start speaking up for herself and the first thing Eliza did was tell her off for thinking she ought to ‘fix’ her and any other person, for that matter. It had been a gut reaction based on Eliza’s own resentment of how her family regarded her as well as the god remains in her acting up due to her agitation.
         Still, even while the burst of temper had startled Eliza, it had been enough for Danae to not only respect the girl, but also to begin to doubt her own goals. Most notably, it was enough to prompt the Fatuus to pick up her old ideas anew rather than continuing the original experiment plan she’d had altogether, choosing to help make amends in fashioning Eliza a special wheelchair to take her out for enrichment. Not that Danae would ever admit that’s what it had been for, even in present day, but Eliza understood all the same.
            The day Danae broke out, she had actively tried to reach Eliza to bring her along, but was unable to in the chaos she’d wrought and severely underestimated. Thinking her dead, she prioritized her own survival and left without a second thought.
           Eliza hadn’t realized she’d been abandoned once again, rather had been merely confused by the happening and chaos around her. She patiently awaited Danae to come, trusting the Fatuus to soon fill her in and protect her if need be. Instead, it was the newly freed Ozzy who had found Eliza and offered to bring her along after having slaughtered her guards and hearing her request to see the stars outside before he ‘put her out of her misery’ had moved him.
          And especially because she then tried to cut his throat the instant he got close enough to carry her.
          After convincing her he did want to bring her along, not kill her, she at last conceded and let him take her away from the wreckage of the lab. Eliza's tales of her home nation had been the reason Ozzy had chosen to settle there, and she was more than happy to return with him, though flares ups of the god remains in her did pose some problems both were unsure of how to handle. Not that he trusted anyone in Teyvat to be able to take care of her as they should, especially considering how she’d ended up in the Fatui’s hands in the first place.
         Still, she is grateful he took it upon himself to allow her to stay by his side as his ward, even while she couldn’t offer him much in return in terms of fighting skill, money, or knowledge besides that of her home. When he founded his gang, she did find purpose in aiding with the logistics aspect of running the front for his gang, using the learnings of her youth. Without her, it would have fallen apart from the start, Ozzy would always say, leaving her giddy with excitement and her heart full. After finding and enacting a solution to quell the god remains in her ( taken place post-Sumeru archon quest, story-wise ), she would start taking a more active role in the gang as aid to their resident healer. In addition, her wheelchair would be adapted for combat, to suit her needs and her Vision’s abilities.
          She is well aware that elemental concentrations worsen her flare ups, but she still constantly insists upon staying with everyone else in the gang and utilizing a soothing device relying on Elemental energy anyways. She’d rather spend it in comfort and with her friends, even the lot of them encourage her to when she frets what could come out of it. Once the traces of god remains in her would be sealed off enough, she is able to head out with them with her wheelchair from that point on, as well as set at ease her fears of hurting them. She still feels chronic flares up of pain due to her affliction, but with less risk of it going out of control, she can bear it a lot easier.
          After all she’d been through, this was nothing. Nothing, in the face of being able to smile and delight in her life to the fullest once more.
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Tyonna Durene (19): Hailing from Natlan, Durene is essentially a demigodess, born from the union of a mortal man, Jevaun, and minor goddess Oloku, whom he had ensnared with a talisman along with several of his friends and fellow warriors when her tempests had threatened their home village.
          Bound to human form, Oloku had been content in their union at first when the man had been kinder to her than the others, up until her husband began to get exceedingly paranoid and possessive of her following being imbued with several of her blessings. She began to grow miserable, cursing Jevaun and unable to do much to fight him as her powers had become considerably weaker, especially after Durene’s birth. And it didn’t help that it was especially so because the man kept her away from the sea, an important source of vitality for her. Still the goddess did not fault her daughter upon her birth, teaching Durene the ways to be a soothsayer and healer so she could properly go through the initiation process and her actual training in the village once she was of the apt age.
          Durene took to her learnings quite well, eager at the thought of being able to contribute to village this way. She particularly excelled in serving as an herbalist and healer, though she did work hard to improve her skills when it came to divination to impress her mother. It always did seem to put Oloku in a far better mood whenever she did, as well as when she would listen to her mother’s tales of gods and places she’d been, of her life prior to being confined to mortal form. Of their Archon, and her great deeds. More than anything, she loved singing for her mother, songs she learned from her and the others in the village, seeing how her voice seemed to bring the goddess some semblance of solace, when she felt her weakest.
         At twelve years old, Durene learned the full story of her mother’s plight. Horrified and moved, she would elect to repay her mother all she’s taught her in concocting a clever plan to gleam out from her drunken father the location of each piece of the talisman needed to complete the needed ritual and free the goddess. With this knowledge, Durene was able to find and bring them to her mother, who would aid her in completing the necessary steps. As her bonds would break and her strength returned, Oloku lamented being unable to take her child with her. Promising to return with a means to ascend her as soon as she could, the goddess would transform into a pillar hundreds of crabs that would scatter into the sea and leave Durene standing alone at the outcropping. Bittersweet and all-too brief as their parting was, she felt content in knowing her mother would be happy at last.
          The good mood would not last long, as Jevaun flew into a deadly rage in realizing what had happened when he awoke to the sounds of a howling sea storm after she returned home.
          His rage did not frighten her, even as he demanded answers. Did the she not care about their village? Of what the goddess would do to them, now that she was free? Of why she’d been confined to mortality in the first place?
Durene truly cared not, insisting Oloku had borne and suffered enough under his suffocating hold. If they were all to be destroyed in her vengeful wrath, it was for the slight they’d done against her, and thus truly fair.
          Her answers would brand her a traitor in the eyes of her father and, to his claims, their people. To ensure the goddess wouldn’t completely destroy them, he locked Durene away and made sure the goddess could never find her, and no one would in turn ever think to help free her.
          She couldn’t say how much time had passed since he’d left her there. Days went by languishing in her prison, in the presence of no one else but her father, whenever he would stop by to bring her food. If her refusal to concede to his pleas to betray her mother and attempts to break out didn’t enrage him enough to leave her to her own devices the next few, that was. It wasn’t until she’d exhausted every attempt at escaping that Durene formulated a plan to escape.
          The next time Jevaun came to see her, he found his daughter seemingly unresponsive. The man freed her from her bonds and frantically attempted to wake her, only to find his daughter conscious after all, taking advantage of his closeness to grab hold of him. The man was only able to catch a brief glimpse of her newly bequeathed Anemo Vision mere moments before she would sap the breath from his lungs. Her face twisted in every trace of hatred and resentment she felt towards him was the last thing he’d ever see as he would succumb. Durene would hold no remorse for her actions, even as the village people would come to find her and try to seize her in retaliation.
          Escaping their clutches and leaving them to the mercy of her mother’s wrath, Durene would take to travel about Teyvat as a wandering soothsayer, making a pretty coin on divination and healing. Truly, that whole time she had been seeking a way she may ascend to join her mother, sparing no expense wherever she may go. She'd even forged a binding vow for herself, giving up her tongue, and thus ability to speak in exchange for power. Through her journey, she fostered a particular resentment born in her in Sumeru and the way the Akademiya had gone about managing knowledge at the time ( the reason for having rejected entry for her, thinking her to be of the desert folk ). Which lead to her resolving to ensure that place would be the first she may pay a visit to once she reached her goal, to tear it asunder for the offense, seeing as its god would surely not be able to match her when the time came.
          It was in being found by Ozzy in Liyue and being requested to come with him, Eliza, and Da'Lun along the way that she came to have company once more. The final founding member of his gang, she would happily settle in Mond with them. But by no means does this mean she had given up on her goal. With Da'Lun and his influence, as well as the addition of Danae later on, Durene would find use in the team’s members to further seek the information she required for her own ultimate goal. Who knew, perhaps she would just need to be a little more patient, just a little bit longer.
           Well, fine by her. That, she had plenty practice in.
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Jaeda Purmizra (18): The daughter of an affluent family in Sumeru and the most recent addition to Ozzy’s gang. She joined them after running away from home and continuously hitching rides on caravans then later merchant ships that guided her to Mondstadt, where she’d been caught stealing from Ozzy’s tavern. Danae had nearly left her bound and at the complete mercy of Treasure Hoarders as punishment, had Eliza not intervened and personally pleaded her case to Ozzy. He accepted only because he knew it would piss off Danae in the process, and because he was intrigued by her Vision in particular,
          Born male and then named Jahar, she had been the family’s sole heir and was raised into the role accordingly ( read: impossibly strict ) by her mother. It was thanks to a young servant girl who tended to her every need that she even began to experiment with and realized her actual gender identity. All because the girl had wanted to play dress up and needed a friend to help her, not realizing all the decorum she was breaking in daring to ask the heir, of all people, such a thing.
          It had been quite the relief in realizing it, though, even when she hadn’t been actively searching for it. But to her, it meant everything from then on. And it meant despair, as she continued to masquerade as her mother’s precious only son and heir. She didn’t want to upset her mother, after all, especially since the woman banked so much of her bid for power as head of the family upon her. So she kept that her little secret, playing with the girl and growing up happily alongside her over the years.
         Up until she and the girl had been caught playing.
         The girl had been punished severely for her ‘crime’ and Jade was forced to bear witness to the bloody ordeal for humoring her. Only after the girl was left near death did Jade face her own punishment, the horrid humiliation her mother enforced upon her before an audience of the woman’s closest friends and advisers.
          The anger she felt in seeing the life dwindling in her friend’s eyes and the cruelty she faced ignited a single-minded determination to make every last person in the room pay for her beloved friend's pain, enough to for her to black out, coming to only when her mother had screamed.
Snapping back to consciousness, Jade felt bloodcurdling horror and cathartic relief in realizing she’d burnt her mother’s lovely face beyond recognition, every other cruel person who’d participated in her torment left as naught but charred corpses in her wake. In spotting the gleaming, blood-red gem clutched tightly in her hand.
          She didn’t stay long, stealing her friend away and running away from home with an intent to bring her along. They could make a life together away from them now, she was sure of it. She had a Pyro Vision after all, she was no longer powerless to protect them!
            With the severity of the girl’s wounds though, her friend had little time left. With her last breath, the girl made her promise to live life for the both of them and to be happy. To stay safe, and never let anyone dictate how she may live her life ever again.
          That day, Jahar died along with the servant girl. In his place and bearing the name of that girl to carry on her memory, Jaeda would set off to find that happiness she’d promised.
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Mako du Raie (16): A Visionless young heir to a prolific merchant family in Fontaine, and the member who had joined the Snake-Eyes gang before Danae and Tua had. His father, Benshi, had been a doushin from Inazuma and met Mako’s mother, Marie, while she learnt the trade from her father, prior to the Sakoku Decree being fully enacted. Mako is their illegitimate child, though he was claimed to be his mother’s younger brother to save face for the family. As such, he was raised primarily under the strict watch of his grandmother and even stole the title of heir to the family from Marie, due to the story they’d given him.
         He took to his studies like a fish to water, being quite bright and precocious for his age. And in his eagerness to pursue his grandmother’s approval, he went far above and beyond the efforts his mother had ever put into her own. The family agreed he was definitely a far more suitable heir than she as a result, though he avoided his mother’s jealous wrath by asking she be involved in everything he did. Like this, the woman’s temperament was appeased, her going as far as to even take credit behind his talent and boast of him to all who would meet them.
          In all honesty, he would have been content enough handing her the reins of the family, had a business venture to Mondstadt not changed his mind entirely. His mother’s boasting lead to drawing Ozzy’s attention, the man having been seeking a nice, convenient little liaison for his gang’s front. With the boy being as young as he was, not only would he be easy to exploit, but his talent and influence would absolutely prove worth the effort to draw him in, just as he'd hope.
          As such, Da'Lun would be the one to meet and gain his trust. To persuade him to join Ozzy’s gang as their merchant contact. And, to ensure Mako’s position and control over his family’s affairs, Da'Lun would even go as far as to encourage Mako to eliminate each and every family member that could possibly stand in his way of managing it all himself.
           Mako couldn’t help but give in, even with how complacent he’d been before. All it took was being given the affection and doting he always wanted, rather than praises for his potential, stolen credit, and empty words he knew better than to believe. It took one friend, who cared and spoiled him so, to make him turn his previous wishes before and pursue a more ruthless ambition without a qualm. Even as he gazed into his mother’s dulling eyes, he would only feel a strong sense of satisfaction as Da'Lun would ruffle his hair with praises aplenty before carrying him back to Ozzy’s little haunt.
           He knew full well he was to be used by Ozzy’s group, having realized it early on in Da'Lun’s attempts to worm his way into his heart. But once he’d met with the others and Ozzy himself, there was no longer a single trace of lingering doubt in his heart. Looking at the lot of them gathered to see him, all varying shades of proud of what he’d accomplished, no matter how horrific, he determined the excitement and validation that came with what they did was a lot better than living his life within conventional rules.
            Where else could he feel like he was at the top of the world like this?
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Tusitala / Tua (20): Originally hailing from a coastal village in Natlan then migrating to and settling in Liyue due to his father’s relentless pursuit of riches and lack of interest in the wars that ravaged their nation, Tua had been a Treasure Hoarder well before his coming of age. He is rather proud of the fact, often boasting of his own successes compared to other factions, especially after he’s fought his way through a group of them. 
At first it had been at his father’s urging that he joined and stayed with the Treasure Hoarders they’d joined up with. It was only to serve as something to make for a side hustle while his father took care of other business dealings at first ( taking care of logistics for that gang while Tua himself got to take on the more dangerous aspects ), then it became Tua’s obsession as his own greed grew, right along his addiction for every victory and bounty he secured them.
         He was quite content with this life, thinking himself the luckiest man in the world to have this chance. Even if he did have to surrender near all of his share of the spoils to his father, to quell the man's avarice. But with what he was allowed to keep or what he squirreled away to pass off as such later, Tua would take to decorating himself handsomely to show off his successes. As such, he’s got several piercings ( many of which he did himself ) along his body, as well as bits of gold embedded in his skin, particularly about his shoulders. He also has a few tattoos to commemorate his victories and his comrades, which glow whenever he uses his Vision.
          Speaking of, his Geo Vision came to him in a show of his conviction to protect his Treasure Hoarder ‘family’ by all means and any costs. In this case, it had been in protecting them from a squadron of Milileth by the skin of his own teeth then later its aid, having chosen to cover them on his own to ensure they could make off with a particularly rich score. Because of it, he became quite popular among them, with the lot thinking he would lead them to great success and eventually become their leader.
          The thought strongly appealed to him, enough that he resolved to make it a reality. As leader, he would have a greater right to a bigger share of the spoils, and he could be independent enough to break away from his father, too. And of course, being able to protect his comrades and look after them with greater responsibility and authority. That was his greatest desire above all else, one he would swear before them during the celebration of his blessing by the Lord of Geo.
          Though he did eventually fail to keep his promise to them when a conflict with Fatui, and severely underestimating them, left his group all slaughtered or near death, himself included. With his last lingering traces of full consciousness, he lamented not being strong enough to protect them all, and expected to meet his shameful end along with them.
          However his survival had been ensured when Danae had stumbled across the massacre. Though initially focused on eliminating the injured and resting Fatui and with her own hatred of Treasure Hoarders having her near ready to ditch them all as it was, it was due to her having determined his potential usefulness upon noting his Vision that prompted her to nurse him back to health.
          Deliberately leaving all the others to their fates, as she didn’t need them.
          When Tua would ask later after awakening, she would swear they were all goners by the time she had found him. That Tua had supposedly been the only one strong enough to survive because of his Vision.
          Grief would take hold, but he wouldn’t linger on that feeling too much. Not enough for it to consume him, anyways. Not when his savior made him an offer to come with her, a suggestion to carry on in his comrades’ names and honor their memories in continuing to plunder and seek the treasures they'd so craved. Feeling both indebted to her and a thrumming need to protect someone once more now that he was without a family ( he dared not return to his father nor join up with a new Hoarder faction after such a harrowing defeat ), he would choose to follow Danae to Mondstadt.
          Along the way and upon reaching their destination, they would take up mercenary work and end up wrapped up in the group they currently associate with now, after participating in an attempt on the young head of the Snake-Eyes gang alongside others like them. Said hit actually having placed by the young head, Ozzy, himself, using it as a ploy for recruitment to test if Danae had been worth Da'Lun's recomendation to his group. Tua likewise making it out alive alongside her and having demonstrated his immense strength and capabilities had been the icing on the cake. He was more than happy to accept the offer to join after that, no need for incentives or anything.
          Well, okay, maybe the pay grade and further chances to seek riches while with them was a pretty good incentive. That, and being able to take part in a whole new gang he could protect and grow stronger with. Those who didn’t need to depend wholly on him and could defend themselves should his strength fail them. But he refused to do so again, swearing the very same oath he gave his late comrades before.
          He will protect his newfound family, with all he has. Whatever it takes.
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Mason Ennosigaeus (17): Sidon’s actual biological child. He was stolen away from his family by Morjena when she had found out of his existence, snatching him during the chaos she'd set off after tricking Eremites into looting the caravan the man's wife had traveled with on her way to the main city. It was a move meant to ensure Danae had no competition to being the man’s heir, especially after the woman and her attendants had been killed in the ensuing struggle. Danae was supposed to kill Mason upon being left with him, as Morjena had thought she’d thoroughly beaten the heart out of her. When it turned out the she hadn’t and even wound up with an attachment to the boy, Mason became an opportunity for Morjena to ensure Danae stuck around.
           Mason was frequently abused by Morjena while Danae was gone and quickly came to rely on the latter for everything. Not that it necessarily meant he was entirely helpless. His weak constitution left him helpless as it was, sure, but in truth, Danae never failed to endlessly dote on him every chance she was home to see him, even going as far as to sacrifice her own meals for his sake. She would even forgo sleep to guard him against Morjena as best she could, and when she did, she would deliberately sleep in a way that if the woman pulled anything, she would be the one to take the brunt of her mother’s abrupt assaults. Every little thing he could ever want or need and THEN some was his at his command, and without hesitation. He need only ask. She couldn't offer him comforts like reassurances and gentleness, but this, this she could do for him. And he was wholly all for it, appreciating the one good thing he had amid the horrid life he was stuck in.
             Inevitably, her boundless devotion and their environment twisted him up as badly as it had her, albeit in a different way. The one who truly wound up heartless and cruel, through and through, just as Morjena was, had been him.
          He may come off as shy and unassuming but in truth, he is twice as vicious and self-serving as Danae, behind the gentle demeanor. He is the one person who can ask of her to do anything at his whim, no matter what it is, no matter how hurt she would end up in the process. And he's used that, time and again to sic her on whoever it was he so chose, be it strangers for his own amusement or even people he's realized she started to get a little too close to, in selfish need to ensure she wouldn't start giving away her loyalties. To test that she truly did mean her loyalties to him, and act accordingly if she hesitated or doubted. He still needed her to survive, after all.
          At the same time, he is also the person others could use to strongarm Danae into damn near anything if they hold him captive, as any threats to him lead her to be all to eager to comply for his safety ( though woe betide those who lose him as a bargaining chip at any point during ). He is the One and Only Thing she has left to lose, but the feeling is not mutual. It hasn’t been from the moment she’d left him at the Akademiya on his own.
          Even having been left in the lap of luxury when she'd been forced to flee, being torn from her side and the endless doting, from his greatest asset, left him stewing in a resentful rage. His bitterness and broken heart earned him a Cryo Vision amid the enraged outburst within his room, gleaming enticingly within the wreckage of her final gift to him. That Vision, however, he deemed the greatest gift of all, and one he thoroughly believes was the Tsaritsa’s personal wish to him and show of support.
         As such, as of earning his Vision, he swiftly abandoned the idea of staying at the Akademiya. Instead, he sought to join the Fatui, using his power as incentive to be kept of use to them alongside the Cicin Mages. Though he was sure to mask what he did, telling Danae he got to travel for his studies so she never suspects. So her constant stream of money and gifts from afar never end, having them brought to him by agents he roped into his whims that happened to be stationed in Sumeru.
          In learning she had also once joined the Fatui only to abruptly disappear, he never once believed her dead as many assumed her to be. Knowing her well and the lengths she would go through to survive and how much she loved her freedom, he assumed she truly ran away. Though he keeps this fact to himself. He has full intentions to help hunt her down and make her face her the full consequences for abandoning him. And the Fatui, too, of course. But if possible, he would like to be the one to bring her end himself. To look her right in the eyes as he would use his Vision to make of her a pristine statue for himself to keep.
         Maybe then she’ll actually keep her promise to never leave his side.
#hc#v; intertwined fates (genshin verse)#long post for ts#//Ok; lots of notes on this one#For Da'Lun: Ironically; staying w the gang makes the influence of his father’s karmic debt worse; esp the more he kills for em.#Working with Danae yielded the same result; he didn’t realize it then; but when Ozzy made him aware he just#tends to conveniently Ignore that fact; thus he’s become more tempered and sadistic than he was before meeting her.#Absolutely Not making him a ticking timebomb at the rate things are going; No Sir. Luckily; Durene’s there to keep him balanced. Sometimes.#For Oz: If it's not clear; Oz’s Delusion weapon is basically akin to a xenomorph tail kjfnkfjg. Bc YES.#He scarcely uses the Abyssal abilities he has after getting his Delusion. Considers the thing a lil' gift from one of his favorite allies.#Only uses those powers in Emergencies; esp bc he doesn't want to reveal his heritage. Not out of real secrecy or anything.#Bc he wants to wait for the right TIME to drop it on his gang. Like the dramatic bastard he is.#To clarify for Eliza; she really had been baiting Ozzy to get him close to defend herself; not actually resigned to die.#That aside; I like to think her wheelchair post-Vision resembles comes to resemble like#The sealchairs in Witch Hat Atelier. Has one that looks & works like a regular one; then uses the sealchair-like one for missions.#Deffo uses her Vision to move about without help once she gets it; not too frequently bc it does take energy to manifest the vines and such#But being able to do so makes her happy even still. In regards to Durene:#She is their BACKBONE. They would all fall apart or Mcfreakin’ DIE without her around. Is also v fed up with them all & v fond all at once.#When she ascends; she has no idea if she’d rather smite or bless them; when all’s said and done. She'll figure that out then.#For Jade; None of the group know she is trans except for Durene/Danae; both due to accidents. Durene bc Jade accidentally hurt herself and#needed the treatment; Dani due to Jade accidentally admitting it over misunderstanding. Both keep it a secret; which she is v grateful#Aight; Mako time: He’s the youngest yet that makes him no less unhinged than the others; Jade learned that the hard way#Has an unrequited crush on Da'Lun but isn’t fazed about it bc the guy still spoils & indulges his every whim when he gets the chance anyway#He’s usually w them; leaving the family business to be run by two of Oz’s associates. Keeps frequent contact to ensure it doesn’t go under.#Occasionally travels back to deal w things. Like getting tickets to a certain magic show in Fontaine when they all decide to visit.#//Extra Tua notes; he was briefly infatuated with Danae after they began traveling together & she Definitely used that to her advantage.#After getting to know her & the kind of person she truly is; it’s since died down & he even has become more wary of her intentions.#Notably; he is right up there with Eliza & Durene as the group's sweetheart. Even w his avarice; he truly cares & is kind to them.#Mason. Oh boy Mason. He essentially is a Cryo Cicin Mage. Genuinely chose it bc it was easier to move about; being one#Dani wouldn't be Aware of him until around Fontaine. The resulting fallout will Not be pretty. The lad would make Sure of it
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sexbot300 · 2 months
Text
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telling them they have a small dick!
pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)
⤷ 18+, MDNI
tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.
a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)
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Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary
Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’ 
Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.
Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it. 
A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”
With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.” 
In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.
“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.
Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.
He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.
My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to. 
Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”
He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.
“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?” 
Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?” 
“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.
Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.
“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”
“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.
Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.
“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary. 
Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”
With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”
A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”
“W-what?” Your voice croaked.
“They’re unreliable.”
“Want to know something else funny?”
Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.
He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”
-
On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar. 
Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek. 
Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.
Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.
“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling. 
It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out. 
“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.” 
Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.
“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”
All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression. 
“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”
“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”
He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”
“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“
“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”
Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.
He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”
-
You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.
Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.
“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”
“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this. 
Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.
“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”
Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull. 
“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.
“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”
“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl” 
“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.
Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.
“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.
Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.
“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.
“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below. 
“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.” 
Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.
Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.
“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”
═════════════════════
Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date
“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.
Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort. 
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Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was. 
Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.
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Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand. 
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A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.
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Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight. 
My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.
His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more. 
‘I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’
Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before. 
“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end. 
“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor. 
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Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.
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Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard. 
“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”
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Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.
Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.
Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.
“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.
“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body. 
Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core. 
While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.
Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own. 
“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands. 
Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?” 
Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”
Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.
Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.
Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”
-
Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs. 
It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.
Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.
Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”
Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you. 
He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.
For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been. 
Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.
“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”
3K notes · View notes
hoshigray · 3 months
Note
Hey 🫶🏻 Can I request having sex with Sukuna when he is extremely jealous? Like reader is kinda popular and other guys always tryna flirt with her and shit (she is not interested ofc) So when Sukuna saw another man shooting his shot he needs to blow off steam by fucking you dumb 🤕 and he saying shit like “what a good little cocksucker, maybe I should record you and send this video to all those bastards, so they would know who’s dick you’re gagging on” 😭 I’m so sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore 😭
Love your works 🥰
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc ofccc !! and ty for loving my stuff~
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and Sukuna are college seniors - rough sex - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - oral (m! receiving) - dumbification - choking - backshots + legs-up positions - degradation (cocksucker, dumb bitch, slut, whore) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - pet names (dove, little girl, princess, woman) - possessive behavior (it's sukuna, duh) - use of a phone; sexual photography and videography - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of tears and spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k
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“—Khaahh, oohhh!! Sukuna, pleasee, it hurts—Ahhhnn...!”
“Who said you’re in any position to tell me how to handle you, woman?… Fucking shit, you’re tight as hell…”
Everyone knows that you are off-limits. Knowledge of this fact is the bare minimum when dealing with the one known as “Sukuna’s girl” — no one should dare lay a finger or bat an eye on his woman. And yet, somehow, Sukuna continues to find strays that think this rule doesn’t apply to all. 
He saw it not too long ago today when a guy came your direction at the hall, concealing himself in the shadows to eavesdrop. The junior was dumb enough to invite you to some get-together, foolish enough to think he should even be speaking to the partner of the cold and intimidating Ryōmen Sukuna. 
You were the most popular girl in the class year — expected as Sukuna wouldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t [barely] on equal footing as him. However, unlike him, you carried a much kinder cadence. You greet others with sweet words, converse with professors in a mutual light, and engage with everyone with a compassionate and tranquil soul. — the complete opposite compared to your boyfriend. So, of course, it would be hard for you to turn away people when they come to you for guidance or opinions. 
In this case, you had expressed to the junior that you weren’t interested and had plans to study at your boyfriend’s apartment later. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet a respectful diversion that was expected of you and pleased Sukuna observing.
However, the dull-witted brat put his hand on your shoulder and continued to press on, emphasizing that you’d miss out on people wanting to have a good time with you. A ballsy thing to remark as if saying your boyfriend holds no priority over some boring party. Besides, the man had to stop the itch of coming out of the shadows to strangle the kid for laying his hands on you.
Nonetheless, you gracefully pushed his hand aside and apologized again for declining his offer before heading on your way. The situation was disentangled, both parties carrying on with their days. But that wasn’t enough to calm the salmon-haired man. 
Especially when you were in his apartment, protected under his gaze the entire time; you were sitting across from him at the coffee table while sorting through your coursework, unaware of the fixed look of his red eyes on your frame. Because all he could do was look at you, replaying the interaction from earlier today. 
It all angered him deeply — how the junior said your name so casually, the laughs you shared with him, and the touch on your shoulder. Everything from that moment added fuel to the fire scorching in his gut. He couldn’t relax, knowing there were still imbeciles who had the gall to act so familiar with you, his princess. 
The twitch of his brow couldn’t cease, same with the bounce of his knee – his nerves having an inner battle of maintaining a low profile. And being the caring piece in this relationship, you noticed. You blinked up to where he sat, “Is everything okay?” 
Of course not, woman. As much as he wants to put all the blame on the guy, Sukuna felt that you also played a part in this charade. To him, you were just as worse as that fucker. How could you, his precious dove, allow such trash to be so close to you? Allowing that thing to touch you was such an insult to him, downright disrespectful to the man you call your boyfriend. And the fact that you didn’t think of telling him — believing that you could keep this as a small matter insignificant to his awareness — left a sour taste in his mouth.
In his philosophy, Sukuna knew you were in the wrong as well. And for that, you would also have to be dealt with by him, to be reminded of your place in all this.
“Ohoooo! Ooof!! ‘kunaaaa, your fingersss…! Too fast, please slow—Daaahhh!!”
He’d smack your wet cunt, forcing you to grip his satin sheets. You’d instantly try to close your legs, but Sukuna wasn’t having any of that, quick to pinch the skin of your inner thigh to correct you. 
“Dumb bitch,” he throws insults, void of caring that you were on the brink of tears. He brings a hand to your throat, resulting in you gagging from your circulation being cut off. “I told you to keep those legs open. First, you let some fucker touch you, and now you can’t obey me when necessary? Do you enjoy disrespecting me like this?”
“Ahck! I–hic–I’m sorryyy,” he could feel you clench on his fingers, gripping them as if you refused to let them go.
It humored Sukuna, who effortlessly removed his digits to give your slit another harsh slap that made you gasp for air. An action proved difficult with his whole right hand constricting your airways. “Are you? How can you be sorry when you’re latching onto my fingers like a slut?” His hold on your neck goes tighter; your hands claw at his forearm, a desperate plea that doesn’t sway him. “Say it like you mean it, Y/n.”
“Khh..Ahh—Please, forgive me, Sukuna…!” Your apology came through wheezes, tears now welling up to fall on your pretty face, yet you knew it wasn’t enough. “I should have…Never let that junior tou—Mmmph! …Touch me… I’m your princess, only yours.”
A pink brow is lifted, but his expression remains unchanged. With one last slap to your leaking chasm, Sukuna lets go of your throat for you to cough and gasp as much air as you can. While you do that, he removes his turtleneck and unbuttons his dark jeans, bringing his briefs down to spring his erection out before lying back onto the pillows against the bed headboard. “Prove it then,” his voice has you turn to listen. “Suck me off the way I like it.” 
You are in no position to resent him, crawling towards him on all fours and immediately going to work. Your tongue greets his reddish-pink glans with swirls, licking his frenulum and nibbling on the skin before taking the head to your mouth. You lather his cock with your spit as you bob your head, hallowing your cheeks to take in every inch while your hand glides up and down his shaft. 
“Nnmph, fuck,” Sukuna groans at the feeling of your feverish sucks of his cockhead, your hand stroking him while you tend to him with your mouth feels too good. He peers down to watch you suck hard on his tip, and you return his gaze with a hooded look while sucking on his balls, causing him to hum. You then bring the tip back into your lips, making raunchy noises as you take his girth and lick his precum. 
“Heh, what a nasty little girl,” he comments after you exude a trail of spit onto his dick before hurriedly slurping him back inside your warm mouth. “I outta take a picture of you…No, a video is better.” He’s pleased to see your watery eyes twinkle with dread when he pulls out his phone from his jean pocket. He slides to open the camera application, “Maybe I should show that fool how such a good cocksucker you are for me.”
“S–Sukuna, please, anything but—Mmmm!” Again, no one said you were in a position to speak out of turn. Hence why, your boyfriend grabs your cheeks roughly with a single hand. Crimson eyes pierce through your fragile skin, and your figure fills with fright within milliseconds. 
“What did I say about giving me orders?” His tone is enough to send shivers down your spine, his nails denting your cheeks. “Does my woman want me to expose them for the filthy whore they are? Cause I couldn’t care less if I one day start leaking these shits and have your reputation crumble in seconds as a lesson.”
A tiny bit of you wants to believe he wasn’t serious; however, the single tear shed from your unblinking eyes tells a different conscience. You reply with a shaky breath and a quivering lip. “No, Sukuna...Please forgive me.”
He releases your chin with a push of the thumb. “Then get back to it, dove.” The sweetness of that pet name wasn’t present as he smacked your cheek with his length. You listen to him, taking him back into your throat with a euphoric mewl while cupping and kneading his balls. He sneers and presses the record button, “Just like that, princess.”
And don’t think that it ends there — because it doesn’t. 
“Ahhhnn! Oooooh, my God, ‘Kuna..’kunaaaa, I can’t—Ahahnn!”
“—Nngh, that’s right, Y/n; scream for me…Fuck, this tight ass pussy…”
Sukuna now has your face down ass up, pinning you to the satin mattress by the shoulders and hammering his bare cock right into your messy cunt. Your cries are muffled by the sheets you bite into, tears streaming down hot cheeks as your boyfriend plows himself deep side your core. The commotion coming between your sexes fills his bedroom outside of the squeals that bounce against the walls.
Your figure jolts with every thrust, Sukuna’s pelvis smacking on your ass that stings with hot skin after taking onslaughts of slaps from his hands. Your clitoris, exhausted from the constant tweaks and pinches, rests with the cool air treating the sore button. Sweat is covered all over your nude body, evidence that you and your boyfriend have been going about this for a long while, and of course, you’re getting a bit fatigued and overly sensitive to his every touch. But you know he doesn’t care; this is all for your punishment.
Sukuna throws your butt another smack, having your vaginal walls instinctively contract around his girth. He hisses with a grin, “Damn, I love seein’ you like this.” His eyes trail down from your sweaty shoulders, following your spine and hips, down to your ass, where he sees the insertion of his dick being swallowed by you. Seeing the white, soapy ring shielded around his cock makes him bite his lip. “All sore and dirty for me…Mmmph, gripping on me like a slut, going dumb on my cock.”
His hips then propel erratically, having your howl with eyes shooting up. You were too far gone to think of proper thought, with your brain churned into mush and your head pounding nonstop. The heat on your face is just as unbearable as the throbbing sensation down south. Your trembling legs try so hard not to give in and slump, yet you can’t lie; you’re tired, sore, and sticky all over. 
“Nmaahh! OhhhJesussss, ‘kuna, pleaseeee, lemme cummm—Mmaahh!” Another smash to your ass, followed by a pinch to your clitoris to juxtapose with the slow strokes he uses to massage the delicate spots of your walls.
“Why do you think I should let you cum, woman?” He swipes on your clit, listening intently to the whines that climb higher with the brush of his finger. 
Your words come out in slurs, yet you must answer to him. “I’m shorryy, I didn’t mean to—oh, fuck…do you wrong. Yer the only man who can touch me, wound me,” You peer over your shoulder to see Sukuna, an action that has him release your clit and hear what you have to say. “And love me…just as I love you, and only you. No one else can have me like you…Hahhh, I’m yours, both in mind and body…” Salmon brows furrow as you continue. “I love only you and want only you to touch me, ‘Kuna..Please forgive me, I won’t do it again…”
He was already sold once you turned to look at him, you little minx. Your watery eyes suddenly struck his heart — you are the only thing in the world that could do that, his little dove. He can tell by your heaves and pants that you wish to rest, that you had enough of his lesson and want to be in his embrace. 
However, no unpleasant deed shouldn’t go unpunished. Within a second, Sukuna has you flipped on your back with your legs brought up to his left shoulder. He brings out his phone once again, swiping to put on the camera after inserting his length back inside you.  “Hey, princess,” he calls to you. “Why don’t you say hello to the camera for me? Want something to look back to.”
You gulp with a dry throat, sheepishly smiling at the camera phone. “Hello, I’m Y/n—Ooohh!!” He surprises you with more ruts to your chasm, clamping onto him as if your life depended on it. 
“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He calls out to you with a steady breath, as if his pelvis wasn’t poisoning deep to grind your insides to evoke pretty moans to escape puffy lips. 
“Hahaaa!! I—Hnnph..I belong to Sukuna Ryō–hic…men…”
“Who does this pussy belong to, Y/n?” Ruts become harsher with every word.
“—Mmoohhh, fuuuhuck, it’s yours, only yoursss,” you voluntarily take up your legs and hold them from behind your knees, bringing them to your chest. “Me and this pussy belong to only Sukuna, no one else can touch me…!”
Sukuna pans the phone down to the union of his dick, moving to and fro from your slit. The white essence painting both sexes was making an erotic mess, strings of his come covering his girth with every push and pull. He chuckles to himself. “This right here is all mine, ya hear?” He looks at you to see you nod your head hurriedly. “Don’t you ever forget that, understand?” You nod again, clenching around him when he drops the phone and leans towards you to place his hands on yours.
It’s here that he finally finishes with you, pounding his hips into you as hard as he can. Your voice gets higher and higher, your headache getting intense with the ruts on your cunt. And with how he stretches and grazes your walls? Jesus, it was terrible to control yourself, your orgasm increasing by the second. “I wanna cumm, ‘kunaaa, let me cum on you, pleaseee….!!”
“Heh, desperate to tighten some more for me, huh.” He adds more weight onto you, forcing you to submit to him. You shudder under his bow, “You may now cum, dove.” 
As if on command, you let yourself loose and allow the climax to finally be free, wailing during yet another crescendo as your vagina flutters around him for the fourth time that night. And Sukuna relishes the feeling of you tightening on him, doing excruciating slow strokes to enjoy the moment. 
“Hmmm, that’s it, just like that…Remember this, princess,” He bends down to lick the tears on your cheeks before kissing them. “Know your place.” He then brings the phone back up to close this session.
“Now smile for me.”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ header edit done by me, dividers by @/benkeibear.
4K notes · View notes
lavender-devotion · 3 months
Text
The Radio Demon has a WIFE??? And She was a WHAT??? (Alastor x Fem!Reader)
Summary: Mimzy stops by and brings up a little detail that Alastor forgot to mention: he has a wife...oh yeah, and she used to be a nun. How the fuck did that happen??? -Or- I was watching 'Call the Midwife' and got Alastor brainrot ideas while watching the romance between Sister Bernadette/Sheila and Dr. Turner.
Tags: Fem!Reader (for obvious reasons), She/Her pronouns, No Use of (Y/N), everything I know about being a nun is from a TV show (don't kill me pls), Husk is...so fucking tired, also I couldn’t find a midwife house in New Orleans so I made one up (don’t kill me pls x2) TW: None, other than my possible terrible idiocy regarding nun shit and Catholicism, I feel like me being the author should also be a TW in and of itself ngl Word Count: 2.4k Read it on Ao3 <3
"WHAT?"
Husk winced as Angel's voice echoed throughout the lobby, loud and full of indignation.
"There is no fuckin' way tall, dark, an' creepy is married," he insisted, staring down Mimzy as she took another swig from her glass, "you've gotta be fuckin' with us, right Husk?"
Husk pointedly ignored the question, turning his back to the two idiots and their quickly gathering crowd of spectators—the other residents of the hotel. Alastor didn't like people talking about him unless it was with hate, fear, or admiration- (the arrogant fuck) -and he liked people spreading his personal business around even less.
He wasn't stupid enough to get involved in this conversation, even if Mimzy and Angel apparently were.
Mimzy laughed, "oh please, that's not even the best part! Alastor's sweetheart actually used to be a sister!"
"A sister?"
"Yeah-"
'Don't fuckin' say it-'
"-like a nun!"
'Motherfucker.'
That statement had Angel choking on his drink, everyone else letting out various exclamations of disbelief—all of which only made Mimzy's smile widen. She was enjoying the attention.
"Yeah," she continued, "the pretty thing was actually part of one of the few nunneries that were up and running back in our day—although hers also served as a sorta home base for the midwives in New Orleans before it all became a hospital affair."
"So not only did Smiles somehow manage to get 'imself a sweetheart, but he managed to bag a fuckin' NUN?!" Angel asked incredulously, "how the FUCK did that happen?"
Mimzy grinned mischievously, "well-"
"Mimzy," Husk said, caution and warning in his tone. It was one thing to drop a couple facts and then shut up—Alastor was fond of her- (as "fond" as the bastard was capable of) -so she might be able to get off with a warning—but to start telling stories about his life? Spilling all his carefully guarded secrets?
Yeah, that'd get her killed. Or worse.
Even so, Mimzy either didn't know how secretive Alastor was- (doubtful) -or she was just under the delusional belief that he wouldn't hurt her for her slight- (bingo) -because she just waved off Husk's warning.
"Hm...where should I start?"
---------------
What everyone in Hell tended to forget was that the cruel, bloodthirsty, "Radio Demon" they all feared...used to be a man, used to be human just like all the rest.
Quite the human he was, though.
Obviously he did his fair share of terrible things, he didn't end up in Hell for being a saint, but before any of his...transgressions came into the public eye, people truly thought he was. He'd come from a poor home, his father ran off when he was young, and yes he was an odd child—but all of that seemed inconsequential the older he got.
He worked hard in school and worked his way up in the world until he finally became a famous radio host, the crown jewel of the French Quarter. Even so, all of the attention never seemed to go to his head. His mother's son, always his mother's son, he was the picture of a true gentleman—always polite, always chivalrous, always helping others. It certainly didn't hurt that he was handsome too, and his charm was unmatched by any other man in the city.
As such, it was no shock that he attracted all manner of attention from people vying for his affection, but no one seemed to catch his particular eye. That was, until he met her...
---------------
“Now, keep in mind, I don’t know very much about his missus before they got together,” Mimzy admitted, “but, from what I can tell, she'd always been a mystery, so I don’t think it really matters-“
“Obviously it matters!” Angel interrupted, his drink and everything else long forgotten, “for someone to get together with Smiles willingly, they’ve gotta have some of their own skeletons in the closet! C’mon toots, you gotta know something.”
Mimzy circled a finger around her glass, playing coy, “well…maybe I might know a thing or two…”
Husk wanted to bash his head against a wall.
Fine, fine, fine. It was one thing—one really fucking stupid thing—to talk about Alastor, but to talk about his wife? Especially to fucking gossip about her?
Yeah, no, these morons were definitely dead as soon as Alastor found out.
“Well?” Angel pressed, looking downright desperate for more information.
“Well…”
---------------
Alastor's sweetheart had always been an enigma since the day she arrived in New Orleans, every bit of her covered in that modest black and white clothing—all except her face and hands, of course.
By all accounts, she was a sweet girl—kind, attentive, always willing to help—but she was also very…secretive, one might say. It wasn't that the other nuns weren't reserved, because they were, but she was especially so, and her brand of reservation came across as more underhanded than anything else.
She never talked about her hobbies, her family, her life before taking her vows—hell, she never talked about her life before she moved to New Orleans. So it was no surprise that a fair amount of rumors followed her around, no matter how sweet she appeared to be.
Some said that she was a runaway, trying to escape an abusive father; others said that she moved there to get out of a loveless marriage; and a few even claimed that she was on the run from the law. There was never any evidence to support any of those rumors, of course, but people loved to talk.
One might think that Alastor was drawn to her because of all of those whispers, just chasing down another story for his radio show, but it was actually a mix of pure luck and her work as a midwife that brought those two together.
You see, midwives didn't only deliver babies, but they also offered all sorts of medical assistance to anyone who needed it. These services eventually brought her to his mother’s home one day, and it just so happened that Alastor was also visiting his ma at the time.
The two started talking and, between his magnetic charms and her sweet demeanor, it was no surprise that the two got along like a house fire.
From then on, every time she visited his ma to take care of her, he was there too. Then he started showing up at all of the events hosted by Saint Charlene’s, always finding his way to her side. And there even came a time where he started visiting her frequently, always welcomed by her fellow sisters and the other midwives with open arms.
---------------
“Wait a minute,” Angel interrupted, “I thought nuns weren’t allowed ta be in relationships. It goes against the whole point of bein’ a nun, don’t it?”
Mimzy huffed, “I was getting to that part!”
---------------
Obviously nuns weren’t allowed to have relationships, romantic or sexual, and most people of that time didn’t believe that men and women could simply be friends—so the friendliness they both shared fell under quite a bit of scrutiny. Everyone that knew a thing about that sweet girl knew she would never betray her vows, and everyone that knew a thing about Alastor knew that he’d rather die than be anything less than a perfect gentleman. 
But, like I said, people in New Orleans liked to talk.
Neither of them paid any mind to it, though. Alastor was already dealing with the bullshit that came with showbiz and his sweetheart already had a bunch of rumors circulating about her, so what did they care if a few more whispers were added to the pile? But eventually, a painfully long time after the two first met and became friends, there came a day when something that wasn’t quite platonic bloomed between the two of them. 
Obviously the two of them were horrified by this; Alastor, because he would never ask her to forsake her vows for him, and her, because she was worried that she was betrayin’ her God by feeling that way. 
Eventually she talked to the other nuns, though, and got some help figuring out her emotions and what she wanted to do, and Alastor talked things through with his ma—who was, frankly, overjoyed that he’d finally found someone who he fancied.
Let me tell ya, even with all of the others helpin’, it took fuckin’ forever for those two to finally get together. Between their shared emotional constipation, everyone’s expectations of them, the worry that the other didn’t feel the same way, and the fear of crossing each other’s boundaries…yeah, it took over a year after the two of them figured out they liked each other for them to actually say something. 
By the time they finally got their shit together, Alastor’s mom and the other midwives were already planning their wedding. Hell, the nuns were just about ready to rescind her vows themselves, they were so sick of the pining!
Everything worked out in the end, though. The two confessed, his sweetheart did the whole dispensation thing, and the two eventually got married.
----------
“Blah, blah, blah…they got a happily ever after and a white picket fence,” Mimzy finished with a lazy wave of her hand, “so, that's the story."
Angel just stared at her, mouth hanging open slightly, “huh, I didn’t know tall, dark, and creepy had it in ‘im.”
Mimzy hummed, “yeah, he might seem all big an’ scary, but underneath all that he’s a total doll!”
Husk shuddered as the prickle of static suddenly made his hair stand on end, signaling Alastor’s entrance into the room—along with Charlie, Vaggie, and Lucifer himself. His eyes immediately found the small group that had gathered by the bar, and it probably wasn’t hard for him to figure out what exactly drew everyone there.
“Now, now, Mimzy, what have you been telling everyone about me?” Alastor chastised, making his way closer to their group. His tone was teasing, but it had a subtle warning at the end—one that said he wasn’t asking for shits n' giggles. It made Husk want to disappear into the wall, to get out of the way of what would follow if Alastor found out the subject of their conversation. Hopefully Angel and Mimzy would have enough sense to keep their mouths shut, but he doubted it.
“Oh, nothing you need ta worry about!” she said, waving him off playfully, “just a couple old stories from back in the day.” 
“Is that so?”
Mimzy hummed her affirmative, finishing off her drink, and for one blissful moment Husk thought that the subject would drop and everything would be fine. He was wrong.
“Yeah, and I gotta say I’m surprised atcha Smiles,” Angel snarked, “who knew ya had a missus back home keeping ya on a leash.”
The room went dead silent.
The lights suddenly flickered, a dark red glow casting across the room as they did—mangled shadows dancing on the walls. Husk shrank back, trying his best to blend in with the bottles of alcohol that lined the shelf behind him.
Alastor’s voice was pure radio static, barely restrained rage filtering through, “w̶͚̫̰̰̟̌̆̓̚̚h̵̩̤̹͓̗̾̔͗̇̉å̴̱̩̝͚̎́̐̔̏͜†̸̡͔̲̠͔��̎̆̀̕ ̸̲̠͔̟̗͗͑̾͐͘Ð̷̡̠̥̞͚̔̾̋̋͘ï̶̩̼̻̱̣̓̀̅͆̑Ð̸̣͍̞̬͖͋͑̽͗̚ ̶͈͙̤̺̲̒̒̒̎̀¥̷̭̻̥̘͈̇̓͑́́ð̵̢̲͕͈͇͐͊̓̀̓µ̴͕̬͕̟̟͊͊͂͗͘ ̵̪̲̫̳͍͑̑͒̔͐j̶̨̦̹̪̟̄̽̽̄͘µ̸̧̭͖͇̞̈́̔̀̒͒§̵̺̠͚͓͓̓͂̚͘͝†̷̛̖̤̰̗͓͋̄̇̑ ̸̢̩͙̙̫̊͗̃͘͝§̷̻̣̼̼͙̎͋̂͆͝ą̸̡̛̱̣̻̊̈́̈́̑́¥̶̢̟̼̘̲̃̿̐͑͠?̴͉̞̠̞̦̒͌̋͗̓”
‘Fuck.’
----------
You hummed quietly as you sat on the couch in your and Alastor’s shared home, sketching whatever came to mind in one of the small notebooks he’d bought you—working away the time and trying to ignore his glaring absence. It wasn’t often you were left yearning for your husband’s presence, finding plenty to do during the times he was gone, but today you wanted nothing more than for him to walk through the door. Luckily, you got your wish, although things certainly weren’t how you expected. 
As soon as Alastor walked in, you could tell he was pissed. It was in his posture, his strained smile, the violent crackle of interference in the air. Even his shadow seemed agitated, flitting from one spot to another as if it simply couldn’t sit still. 
 “Al?” You asked carefully, “is everything alright?” 
He turned to you, obviously trying to pass off the illusion of placidity, “everything is fine, my dear, why do you ask?”
“Well you just seem–” the lights around the house flickered, and you could hear a few of them bust in the other rooms, “...tense.” 
He kept up the mask for a moment longer, still trying to fool you, but it dropped soon enough and he let out an irritated sigh.
“...certain people need to learn to keep their insignificant little mouths shut.”
You set aside your notebook and gestured for him to sit next to you, a request he obliged. Almost immediately your hands went to his shoulders and you began massaging them, trying to alleviate some of the tension practically radiating off of him—drawing an almost relieved sigh from his mouth. 
You pressed a barely-there kiss to the back of his neck, “what happened, love?”
“Mimzy stopped by the hotel today and during her stay she decided to fucK̶̝̥̘̪͍̉͋́̈̅Ḭ̴̛̭̪͇̀͋̐̍͂͜ñ̷̡̤̩̖̰̈́͂̑̐͝G̴̞̯̭͈̘͋̒̑̅̚ ̵͇͕͓͕̗͆̃͛͊̂Ġ̶̝̱̪͈̘̽̌͗͝Ö̶̼̲̬̪̟̏̌̄̚͝§̴̺̱̲̫̝̍̈͆̃́§̶̧̞̣̼̮̂͊͋͌͠Ì̷̲̰̹̰͚͌̀̌̇̂þ̴̢̥̰̖̬͒́͌̏̿ ̸̝̺̪̟̈́͊̅̏̆ͅÄ̷͎̘͓̬͇̋̍͑̏͠ß̵̢̫͇̣̻́̊͆͆͝Ö̸̡̤̤̤͙̀̎̿͛͝Ú̸̟̯̺͈̪̇̓̊͐̊†̸̘̺͎͖̣̂̍̽̋̚ ̷̪̺̖̜͇̀͂͒̚͝Ö̴̮̯̗͙̑̆̽̄̚ͅỨ̸̫̯̰̺̼̈́̄̐͝R̸̨̢̧̭͓̒͊̋̇͘ ̵̧̥̗̰͖̅̌̒̿̃þ̶̦̞̫̙͕̈̒̀̿̚Ȩ̵̞̖̲͖̀͗̂̎͝͝R̸̢̪̟̜̮̉̌͒̉̃§̴̢̣͇̠̫̓̀̈͗̽Ö̴̟͕͓̤̀̈́̒͘͜͠ñ̶̛̙͍̼͖͔̎̓̐̋Ä̶̢̬͇͙̟̌͌̃̈͌L̴̨̪͎̟̦̄̇̈̓̿ ̶̨̧̰̼̮̈͒̀̒͝L̸͖̬̙̮̗̂̓̀͘̚Ì̴͙̠͈̺̣͌̓͊̓̓V̷̯̭̞̙͖͆̐̾͗̔Ę̴̪̻̤̀̾͑͆͜͝͝§̷̛͚̤͇̫̘̑͆̾͘.̵̡̥̪̫͇̽̋̑͝͝ §̶͎̣̝̳͓͋̊̀̌͆ð̵̢̼̖̝̭̏̇̕̕͝ ̵̘̜͚̠̫́͊̈́͐̽Ì̷̢̧͖͚͙̆̔̌̓̏ ̸̻̩̪͓̞̀͑͒̇͋†̴̧͉̯̻̳̒̽͋̾̋ð̵̟͙͍̳͈͒̈́̑̍̑ð̸̲̤̞̞̙̄̅͛̓͠k̷̖̪̩̭͇͋̒̀͘͘ ̶̢̛̗̞͍̱̒̅͐͘ï̸̢̢͕̩̰̍̍̽̈́̈́†̵̠̥̖̗̌̌̾̿͠ͅ ̵͙̹̦͎̬͆́̈͗͛µ̸̧̼̲̮̙͊͂̑̓͌þ̶̹̬̫̥̹̓̑̆͘͝ð̷̡̺͖̣̇̅̔͐͑ͅñ̸̼͙̦͕̼̏̐͗͘̕ ̵̢̱̺͖͋̄͌͊̊ͅṁ̸͉̜͙͖͍̓̍͗͝¥̶̨̠̜̮̜̑͑͗̎̌§̵̧̜͉̣̓́͛̇̓ͅḛ̸̠̲̝̤̂̓̎̓͌̈́ĺ̵̛̻̭͚̝̹̽͐̍£̵̠̫̲̹̬̍̊̾̍̕ ̴̧̭̘̞̀̀͋́̄͜†̵̨̰̠̫̖̎̋̃̂͘ð̴̨͍̭̤̙̄̑̎͝͠ ̴̯̟̟̖̜͒͂͌͒̉§̶̪̜̙͎͎́̒̍̾͝h̷̝̻̞̖̄̅̔̆̕͜µ̵̨̨̛̣̬͓̍̑͋́†̶̨̢̰̤͙̌̀̈̈́͆ ̴͔̟̻̫̐͊̓͑̉͜ĥ̴̢̯͔̯̈́̇̑͋͜ê̵̡̳̠͖̺͋͒͐̍̇r̸̝̘͍̙̂͑́̃͊ͅ w̷̸̼̠͓̟͍̣͓̪͚͊̈͗̉̄̊̍̍̇̀͜h̵̥͓͕̲͉̋̓͊́̈́ð̴̨̡͚̲̦̄̃̄̓͋r̸̖̲̮̮͐͌͑́̃ͅę̴͖͇͙̥̂̐͛͌͒̽ ṃ̷̨̱͈̭̀̃͂́͘ð̵̧̛͎̗̟̒̇̈̊ͅµ̴̨̛̖͈̱͈̑̋́̕†̵͚̝̜̟͍̔̈̀̈́̆h̵͚̞͔̗̖̀͒̀͛͘.̴̳̙̞̗̬͒́͆̂͂”
The sudden surge of static and shadow didn’t phase you, even as Alastor struggled to not shift into his demonic form—sharp cracks of green light appearing on the walls.
When you’d first found out about his…extracurricular activities, you had been afraid and confused, but now it was nothing more than background noise. He was still the man you fell in love with, still your husband, even if he occasionally killed and ate the degenerates of the world and anyone that pissed him off.
All things considered, you were just glad that you’d ended up in Hell with him, even if the things you'd had to do to ensure that were...distasteful. 
You wrapped your arms around him, nestling your head into the crook of his neck. A luxury that no one else enjoyed but you. 
“That does sound stressful. Is everything handled now, at least?” 
“Yes,” he drawled, leaning back further into you, “unfortunately I was unable to get rid of the other l̷̡͈̼̘̩̾͌̉͝͠ï̸̗̭̝̥̺̈́̓̐̿̚†̴̢̡͕͖̹͌͌̋̈́͗†̸̢̣͖͚͔̓̌̉̾̐l̶̡̪͙͕͗͐̍́̕͜ę̴̡̦͕̜̂͋̏̅͘͝ ̵̰̥̩̺̪̀̋̉͑̍§̸̖̥̦̗͓̏̋̉̈́̃h̶͓͙̯͔͇̎̏̾̕̚ï̴̧̡̱̗̻̈́͗͆̃̀†̴̣̖̯̭͉̂͐͒̍̀§̵̧̡̹̼̹͒̿̍̋͠, as Charlie has taken a liking to them, but I trust that I got my point across.” 
“Good.”
You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.
“Now…when do I get to meet these ‘little shits’ that get on your nerves so often?” you teased, drawing an amused chuckle from him. 
“Don’t even start, darling.”
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moondirti · 2 months
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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.
if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.
and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.
so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.
it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?
granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.
jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.
until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.
because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.
by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.
it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.
and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.
johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?
he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.
"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.
"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."
he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.
besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.
but–
"are you a doctor?"
"n-no."
"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."
he just can't help himself.
over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.
his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.
on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.
then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.
"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?
"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."
"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."
and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:
you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"
ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.
"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.
"hm."
"is this how it usually-"
"sometimes."
"oh."
"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.
a few moments later, you speak up again.
"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."
he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.
"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."
you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."
and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.
if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.
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audisive · 2 months
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♪ SAD GIRL. pretty when you cry alternative
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: another bad day calls for another solution. simon knows best, after all.
tags: smut, mentions of crying, comfort, self-indulgent, dumbification ??, dirty talk, a sprinkle of breeding, unedited filth
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      You're not entirely sure how you got here.
You know why; you'd been stressing your precious head off for the whole week. These past few days seem to be worse than the past ones that had you crying your eyes out in Simon's arms. University has taken its toll on you, and your work is anything but helpful. You don't even have time to cry now! At some point, you barely even had time to spend with your beloved boyfriend, so he took matters into his own capable hands.
Still, you don't know how. You try to remember, but it's hard to think when Simon's even harder dick is stretching out your – in his words – pretty little cunt once more. It's no use trying to work your brain, he claims, not when your shoulders are slumped, your head is leaning on him, and he's rubbing his thick cock against the walls of your pussy just right.
Really, you tried to deal with your stress in a more appropriate way, but you knew it was futile. You admitted defeat when you felt his hands slip from your waist to your hips, when his lips found your neck, when his cold fingers played with your clit and when he'd eased you down on his cock with praises and whispers.
It's just not your fault that he knows the right buttons to push, and he seems to love turning your brain off. What's going on in that brain 'f yours, lovie? C'mon, 'nough of that. Leave it all t'me. If he had it his way, he'd have you drop out of that awful university you always complain about. Please let him provide for you.
"Y'don' even have t' do anything, baby," he grunts in your ear lowly, hot breath hitting your skin. So you don't. You pant against him like a pathetic thing, but you're so far gone in the pleasure that you just can't bring yourself to be a little shy about your state of mind, or rather, the lack of it.
"Such a good fuckin'–" he moans out loud when you clench around him a little too hard without warning, "girl. That's m'girl, tha's it."
You moan his name back, the only thing you can think of. Whining when his thrusts become rougher and harder, he coos, "I know, I know. Almost there, baby, I got'cha."
His pants aren't even all the way down. Shameless bastard! He opted to slide them down his muscular thighs to let the noticeable bulge slip out of its enclosure. His hands have long since shoved themselves under your clothes, not bothering to take them off either. It makes you feel icky, desperate, and utterly pathetic, but the way his cold skin freezes the surface of your bare hips while he moves you up and down on his leaky cock is enough to take your mind off of it.
You're a bit too loud for your own liking, and Simon's dirty talk isn't helping. He laces the lewd sounds of your bedroom with his own groans and grunts that your neighbors are sure to hear and complain about. And when he finds that spot of yours, he pounds you into the mattress like your lives depend on it. You'll just have to ignore the weird looks and glares they give you when you step out of your house.
Oh, but what can you do? You're at his mercy; all you can bring yourself to do is whine and moan for him, but don't worry, he'll take it as a reward for taking such good care of his pretty baby. He's hell-bent on finding ways to comfort you. If he can't fix you with sweet pecks and warm cuddles, he'll fix you up real good with sloppy kisses and his leaky cock. :3 
You'll be a good girl and not complain when he cums in you, right?
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    divider by @cafekitsune !
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itostea · 1 year
Text
hot things bllk boys do as your boyfriend (rin, shidou, nagi & chigiri)
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warnings: suggestive in shidou’s part, reader is called pretty girl in shidou’s part
credits to whoever did this idea first! and repost bc i forgot tags oops
rin:
poking the side of his mouth with his tongue whenever you’re showing him a new outfit 🤭🤭
“So what do you think?” You beam with a grin, doing a twirl for him to get a 360 of your clothes. A half-empty bag is disregarded on the side of your shared bed. You can see your reflection on the side mirror and how the fabric fits around your waist. The dress isn’t anything special in design but its intended use is to be frame flattering–the kind of dress that you can wear on any occasion. It’s one of the few things you came to really like from your online purchase and insisted Rin see. In the end, you ended up forcing him to sit through your haul (not that he really minds).
Teal eyes flit from side-to-side and subconsciously, his tongue pokes the side of his cheek. The scrutiny, though it shouldn’t, makes you nervous. You don’t think he’s yet to understand the effect he has on you. Comically, you straighten up when he’s about to speak, making him raise a brow in question. “The dress’s a bit short.”
“But it’s cute right?!” You whine, doing another twirl for emphasis and stepping closer to him.
“It’s not bad.”
“Huh? Are you sure? I thought this was one of the better picks…” You frown, your spirits dying as you were excited to show him the dress.
“It only looks good because you’re wearing it,” he speaks frankly, leaning back to observe you again. Like before, his tongue probes at the inside of his cheek whilst studying you.
You try your best not to react and try not to squirm underneath his gaze and how effortlessly good he looks. “H-Huh? Yeah thanks…”
“Why are you acting shy now?”
“I’m not!”
shidou:
hand placement. that’s it.
“Ryu! Get off of me!” You sigh for nth time, helplessly writhing underneath him. “At least take a shower first before you hug me…”
“You complain too much baby,” he taps the side of your cheek with a boyish smile. “Can’t believe my girl can be so mean. After a day of tiring practice too.”
“Uh huh, I’m pretty sure it was only tiring since you’re always butting heads with Rin.”
He ignores your insult and instead leans up. “When were you on first name basis with that bastard?”. Little strands of hair fall over his forehead and his pink eyes glow above you. From below, you can really see the product of his hard work. His sweat still clings to him but that only draws more attention to his biceps and muscles. You see a smug smile on his face, realizing that you were caught gawking at him.
You avert your eyes with embarrassment written all over your face. “Shut up, I wasn't looking. And besides you literally call him Rinrin.”
He only bursts in laughter. “I didn’t say anything yet! Awh I didn’t think you’d get jealous!”
“Huh?! Aren’t you the jeal–!”
He interrupts you with another pat on the cheek. “Well don’t worry I won’t call him any nicknames reserved for you. Alright sweetheart? Or did you like baby more? Or was it pretty girl?” He teases leaning closely to you, pressing kisses over the crevice of your neck with a coy grin. His grin only widens when you gasp and whisper-yell his name when he bites down softly on your neck. “You wanna join me in the shower?” He breathes against your neck.
You’re not a fool to miss the hidden meaning behind that offer, well aware that the two of you weren’t just going to shower. “I gotta run some errands,” you say half-heartedly, not really convinced that you want that.
“Yeah?” He chuckles close up to your neck before he props himself with his arm bent while the other pushes your lips closer to his. Your body jolts as his hand creeps down to rest on your neck–with his thumb rubbing little circles over the fresh mark he just left. When he disconnects from your lips, a familiar gleam in his eyes draws your attention. “Still don’t wanna join me?”
“My errands–” Another kiss. A gentle squeeze to your neck as he deepens the kiss. You can’t find yourself to be mad when you feel his grin against your lips. In vain, you try to muster up a glare as you purse your lips. “Ryu–!”
Again. Only this time that hand slides down to rest at your hip. The sound of his lips against yours is enough to make you hide your face in embarrassment. And he doesn’t seem like he’d be backing down either.
“Okay fine! I’ll join you in the shower, you demon!”
“Knew you’d come around.” He pulls you up and only returns your glares with a cheeky smile.
You pout as he gathers you in his arms, not finding much in your heart to push him away. “You did all of that on purpose didn’t you.”
“So what if I did babe? It always works doesn’t it?”
nagi:
literally lifts you like it’s nothing 😭😭😭
“We gotta go pretty…C’mon, get out of bed.”
“Don’t wanna…”
Nagi finds the situation to be amusing, seeing as the roles are reversed with you being the lazy one and him trying to pry you awake. He’s not usually one to wake up early but after the release of a new game he’s been wanting to try, he wanted to get his hands on it before it sold out. Again, he tries to gently shake you awake, suddenly gaining a newfound respect for you–seeing as you dealt with similar situations involving him.
“Why can’t you just go alone?” You whine, covering your face with the blanket.
“You said you wanted to try that bakery’s pastries, didn't you?”
“Can’t you just get them for me after you finish buying the game…” You mumble.
Nagi sighs. He could. But he doesn’t want to. Call it selfish but he doesn’t want to go alone. It’d be such a hassle if the line was long and he’d be waiting by himself–without you to talk to. “Nope. Can’t do that.”
“Why not?” You complain for another time, your voice muffled by the blankets. You hear the ruffling of the blanket and how the bed flattens with his knee. Your hands come to cover your eyes from the early sun streaks peeking into the room, scowling once you see your boyfriend holding the blanket in between his hands.
He looks at you blankly. “Don’t make me carry you…”
“Huh? As if. You’re too lazy to do all that work–! Sei?!” Suddenly, you’re a few feet up, face-to-face with a fluff of white hair. Your look of shock brings a small smile to Nagi’s features and he can’t help but pinch your cheek in between his fingers, positioning you so you could fit in his arm.
“I wouldn’t really call this work. This wouldn’t even count as a workout either…” he glances at you, proceeding to carry you to the restroom so you could get ready. “Let’s get you more awake ‘kay?”
You blink. You’re awake now. Completely. Sometimes or maybe too often, you forget the extent of your boyfriend’s strength and that’s always given him an advantage in the element of surprise. Even now, you gape as he continues to handle your body in his arms as if this was just a stroll in the park.
“Hey…I can walk there myself…” You protest weakly, opting to cross your hands rather than resist.
“Nah, don’t want you running away from me. Of course if that happens, I’ll just have to carry you again.”
chigiri:
maintains eye contact with you all the time 😩😩
A hand brushes over your shoulder as you’re doing your skincare, applying the moisturizer carefully over your face with your eyes fixed on the mirror. Glancing at your boyfriend, you tilt your head. “Yes?”
“Don’t apply your moisturizer like that. Do it like this,” he motions with his fingers, only smiling when you only blink. “Here let me do it.”
With a nod, you face him, allowing him to massage the product onto your face. “Feels nice, Hyoma.”
“I bet,” he mumbles quietly, lightly chuckling as you make a noise of displeasure when he rubs a spot too hard. Rosy eyes watch you carefully as his nimble fingers continue to massage in the residue of any leftover product. You feel yourself getting a bit bashful underneath his gaze, preferring to just avert your eyes to the side while he continues to apply the cream on you. “Not gonna look at me?” He teases, collectively deciding to just finish your skincare routine for you.
His fingers reach over to grab onto your lip balm, unclasping the container and gathering a reasonable amount on his finger. With his thumb and pointer finger, he holds onto your chin and smooths the substance over your lips. You try not to tense from his hold, still stubborn in ignoring his gaze. “I am looking at you.”
“Right,” he laughs. “Anddddd there. Done.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally peeping a look to gaze at your boyfriend. He’s still smiling, only this time his eyes crinkle at the sight of you looking so meek.
“You’re pretty cute, you know that?”
Your hands cover your face as a sound escapes your throat. “Please stop, you're gonna kill me here.”
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momotonescreaming · 4 months
Text
STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night
“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker. 
“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.” 
A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker. 
“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted. 
He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend. 
Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest. 
“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.” 
“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light. 
“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up. 
Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar. 
“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.” 
“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.” 
“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.” 
“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.” 
“Not hard,” Jeff laughs. 
“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”
By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. 
“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer. 
“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”
“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him. 
[Part Two]
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konigsblog · 2 months
Note
You just know ghost is a cold hearted bastard.
Mf doesn’t take his clothes off during sex just pulls out his dick through the zipper and expects you to ride him and bounce your tits💀
simon riley adores clothed sex, or at least, him being clothed and you being completely bare beneath him.
he likes how vulnerable you are when you have absolutely nothing to shield and cover your beautiful body, naked and spread open in front of him, presenting your swollen pussy to him while he begins to undo his military-issued belt for a quickie with you. your soft thighs are coated in a glimmer of your sweet arousal and sweat, and your cunny drools with excitement and anticipation as he begins to release his hard dick from his tight boxers, slapping it against your sensitive clit teasingly before pushing against your tight, slick hole.
your eyes glisten, in dire need to be filled and stretched out by simon. you listen to the sounds of his huffing and puffing, his balaclava pulled over his lips, and his office table creaking as he quickens his already rough pace. simon's grip is firm, leaving indents on your waist from his tight grasp, your flesh spilling from his fingers.
simon cups your tight rear with his calloused and large hands, massaging the soft, supple fat between his fingers as he works himself into your slick cunt. the sight of your wet heat coated in his creaminess leaves simon feral and debauched, ignoring and brushing off your pleas for him to pull out as he gets rougher, signifying he's getting closer to his orgasm. he feels his muscular and trained core tighten and ache, releasing milky fluids of his thick and potent semen. it's selfish and entitled, but it feels so much better and leaves simon much more fulfilled and satisfied to finish the job inside of your warm, wet pussy, preventing a creamy, hot mess.
he admires the sight of your nakedness, how exposed you are, how you're under his perverted gaze. :(
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natalievoncatte · 3 months
Text
Lena didn’t have time for traffic. She looked up from her phone and glared at the back of her driver’s head.
“Frank, why is it taking so long?”
“I’m not Frank, Ma’am. He called out this morning.”
Lena sighed. “And your name?”
“Vincent, ma’am.”
“Vincent, why is this taking so long?”
He signed. “Traffic, ma’am. Sounds like there’s a few blocks downtown closed. Supergirl is fighting some monster or alien or something.”
Lena stopped herself from smiling softly. “Ah, well then. Anyway, might as well see if you can find us a way around. I just don’t like to stand still.”
The driver nodded.
“What do you think about Supergirl, ma’am?”
Lena sighed. “Forgive me, Vincent, but I do have some work to concentrate on, here. I’m not usually one for chitchat. I hope you don’t mind.”
She sank back into her seat and flicked to the next email. There were a lot of fires to put out. Upcoming product launches, grant applications, university partnerships, charity events, plus her own work. She was becoming so strained lately that she was seriously considering stepping down from the direct CEO role so she could spend more time in the lab, where her real passion was.
Sometimes she almost sympathized with Lex; the life of a CEO could easily drive someone insane. Lena would rather spend her days in a labcoat or doing charity work than listening to another entitled silver spoon-
“You’re going the wrong way,” Lena said, sharply.
“I’m finding a way around,” said the driver. “You know, you never answered my question, before. What do you think of Supergirl?”
Lena stuffed her phone in her pocket and thrust her hand in her jacket, freeing the concealed revolver she carried in a shoulder holster under her left arm. The partition was already going up, sealing her in.
“What are you doing?”
“Answer my question,” the driver said, through a speaker.
Lena swallowed hard. “I think she’s a hero but I don’t fully trust her. I work with her when I feel it will help people. That’s all.”
“That’s not what your mother thinks.”
“Isn’t it?” said Lena. “What does she think?”
“Are you fucking her?”
Lena barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s her question?”
“Are you fucking her like you debased yourself with that little tart in boarding school?”
There was silent beat.
“She told me to say that. She made me practice saying ‘tart’.”
He sounded almost bored.
“Fuck you,” Lena snapped. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it.”
“Nothing personal,” said the driver.
Lena sighed, almost annoyed at the hiss as a thin, chemical smelling gas hissed into the car, rising around her. She forced herself to stay calm, stoic, even her pulse raced.
“I’m not afraid of you, or her,” said Lena.
She coughed twice as the world irises shut around her, dragging her down into a cold, dreamless sleep.
When she snapped awake, she was alone. The partition was open, but the gun was gone from her holster. She felt around for it, then decided to clamber into the front seat, rolling over the seats facing her. The driver was gone, of course. Heavy chains were padlocked around the car, pinning the front doors shut.
There was a tape recorder sitting on the front seat. Lena ignored it as she looked around. The car was surrounded by metal walls, and a creep sense of dread rose up Lena’s spine. She fought the panic down, dropping into the driver’s seat.
Placing the tape deck on the dash, she pushed the okay button.
“Hello, Lena,” Lilian said, in her smooth, posh tones. Lena could hear that smarmy smirk forming around her words.
“You’re probably expecting an ultimatum or an offer. There will be none. I’m through trying to bring my husband’s wayward bastard back into the fold. When you betrayed Lex again, you burned your last chance. It’s time to take out the trash, Lena. I wish I could have throttled you in the cradle, but I didn’t know about you and your mother until it was too late. It’s time to correct that. It’s too bad we won’t be there to watch.”
Watch what?
Lena sat and waited. Whoever was sent to murder her had no sense of dramatic timing. She began rifling through the car, trying to take stock of what she had, what she could use to effect an escape. Breaking the-
A sharp shriek of metal cut through her thoughts. The side walls inched forward with a screech of metal, and Lena froze, terror piercing through her like an icy spike.
Oh.
Oh God.
The walls moved slightly more, and the rear view mirrors on both sides of the car exploded. The mechanism pushing the walls strained and groaned, and that was the only mercy she had.
She was in a car crusher. In the car.
The armored structure of her town car was too heavy for the machine to simply crush, but she had minutes at most. Metal groaned in protest, shrieking around her, and the glass quivered in the doors.
Oh God. Oh God.
She wasn’t going to panic. She wasn’t going to panic. She ripped open every single compartment and cubby she could find, but found only monogrammed glassware and a bottle of champagne. There was nothing.
A random, forgotten Lexosuit would be really useful right about now.
With a sudden shriek, the car began to collapse. The bulletproof glass buckled and shattered, pelting the front seat as she rolled into the back, and the doors buckled in, tearing loose from their hinges as the floor and roof began to fold.
A sudden, ringing, frankly stupid thought came into her head, but it was her best play.
Lena Luthor filled her lungs. She took in the biggest, deepest breath of her life, a breath worthy of a championship deep diver, and screamed at the top of her lungs, until it hurt.
“SUPERGIRL!”
She had to scramble into the back seat as the engine began pushing through the dashboard, ripping apart plastic and leather, splintering buried wood. Lena ducked as the roof crumpled and dove in, like the roof of a dragon’s mouth crushing down to pulp her. She closed her eyes and curled in on herself, hoping it would at least be over fast.
A single ringing thought bit through the fear.
Oh God. Kara’s waiting for me at the restaurant.
Around her metal shrieked, and she heard the vast clang of rending machinery. The inexorable crushing stopped, the bucking limousine going still. Lena opened her eyes, peering through her fingers like a terrified child, and watched in awe as one of the crushed plates tore loose from its moorings and went flying off into the afternoon air.
Hands, strangely delicate, punched through armor plating as if it were cobwebs and ripped the broken shell of Lena’s limo apart, spreading it in every direction.
Lena had never seen Supergirl so panicked. Her eyes were too wide with abject terror, and she seized Lena in her arms, winding her cape around her, and rocketed loose from the car.
Lena’s words were lost to the wind. Supergirl was blasting into the air, flying incredibly fast- too fast. Helpless, she clung to the hero for dear life, feeling woozy as the blood drained from her skull.
She thought, oh, come on, as she passed out again.
When her eyes drifted open, Lena was lying on the ground. Groaning, she sat up slowly, feeling every movement, and realized she’d been lying on a spread red blanket with her suit jacket piled up under her head for a pillow, and she was in the woods. The sun had yielded to the sky, and someone had started a roaring fire a few feet away.
Grateful for the warmth, Lena edged closer. As she did, she realized that she was sitting not on a blanket but on Supergirl’s cape.
Blinking, she looked around.
Supergirl had her back to a tree, curled up on herself with her head hanging between her knees, arms wrapped around to cover her face, and she was sobbing quietly. Lena stared, open-mouthed.
“Supergirl?” she breathed.
Supergirl didn’t respond. Lena rose to her feet, wobbling, and discarded her heels before walking across a bed of soft leaves. She crouched in front of the weeping Kryptonian, stunned when the other woman flinched.
“Supergirl?”
“Lena?”
Her voice was small and soft, all the bravado and righteous authority gone. She sounded strangely human.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
“I think I am,” said Lena. “What about you? Are you hurt?”
“No,” she sniffed. “A Tauraxian hit me in the head with a greyhound bus. Tuesday afternoon at the office.”
Lena laughed softly, and sat down. “I’m sure. What just happened?”
Supergirl swallowed hard as she looked up. “I panicked. I saw what was happening and I lost control. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt you.”
Lena put a tentative hand in on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“More than you realize,” Supergirl sighed.
“I’m here,” said Lena.
She sat down. Supergirl looked away from her, staring I to the fire a few feet away. In starlight, with the firelight caressing her delicate features and sparkling in her blue eyes, it was impossible to miss how hauntingly beautiful she was… and how haunted herself. Supergirl looked older than her years, a deep sorrow in her eyes that Lena had never seen before.
“I’m claustrophobic,” Supergirl explained. “Not the kind of thing that you advertise.”
“We all have our fears. I have some of my own.”
Lena pushed down thoughts of a pale hand sliding beneath churning black water and shuddered.
With teary eyes, Supergirl looked at her.
“I can’t. I can’t have fears. I’m Supergirl. I have to be perfect, set an example, all that crap. I’m the perfect woman who came from the sky to do only good.”
The perfect woman, Lena thought, consuming the firelit beauty before her. No one would debate that.
Well, Lena would, maybe. There was someone more perfect, someone soft and kind with a devastating smile and laughing eyes tinged with strange sorrow. She hoped Kara wasn’t worrying about her.
It was funny how Lena always thought of Kara when Supergirl was around. Guilt, maybe. Foolish guilt; Kara was a far shore that Lena would never reach, even if she’d gladly sink in the attempt.
“Before I came to Earth, I drifted in the phantom zone in my pod. There were things outside. The pod was the size of a coffin, a tiny space to spend all that time. The phantoms would claw and slash at the canopy and the walls. I was awake for days hearing them trying to get in. Sometimes there were bigger things out there, wrapping arms around it and trying to crush their way in.”
Lena nodded. “That sounds beyond terrible. It’s okay for you to be scared after that.”
Supergirl nodded. “I can barely handle elevators sometimes.”
A jolt went through Lena, something familiar, like a word on the tip of her brain.
“I get scared when other people are enclosed, too,” said Supergirl. “When I saw something trying to crush you, I just lost it. It’s different when it’s you.”
Lena swallowed hard, trying to suppress the shiver that coursed through her body and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end.
“Back in high school, the other girls used to bully me,” said Supergirl. Once, they locked me in a closet in the locker room. I screamed and screamed until until someone let me out. Alex was furious, she…”
Supergirl went quiet, trailing off. Her eyes went wide and she jolted back.
Lena sat there for a second, unsure why…
Wait.
Alex?
High school? Supergirl went to high school?
With Alex? Alex Danvers?
Lena choked down a gasp, the wheels whirling in her head. She looked over and met Supergirl’s eyes, studying them. Her. The way the light played across her soft features, her honey hair, the little scar above her eye.
“Hi, Lena.”
“Hi, Kara,” Lena whispered.
Neither of them moved. Lena wondered briefly if Kara had ever planned to tell her, how she might have planned it. Probably not like this. Her throat bobbed.
Lena shifted closer, until they were hip to hip in a seated hug, Kara crying softly on Lena’s shoulder, powerful arms wrapped around her.
“I was scared,” said Lena. “I was afraid I was going to die and you’d be sitting at the table at the restaurant waiting for me.”
“Never,” said Kara. “I’ll always protect you.”
“And I’ll always protect you. Nobody is ever going to shove my Kara in a closet ever again.”
Kara let out a little gasp.
“Can we stay here for a while? Talk? Just you and me?”
Kara nodded. She stood and gathered up her cape as Lena moved close to the fire, and sat down, wrapping it around them both. Lena let her head fall on Kara’s shoulder.
“This makes a nice blanket.”
“It is a blanket. My cousin was swaddled in it when he came to Earth. Don’t worry, I washed it.”
Lena laughed softly, awkwardly trying to decide where to put her hands. She settled on being bold, and put her arm around Kara’s waist. Kara slipped her arms around her shoulder and pulled her in, and Lena hugged her back, tucking herself into Kara’s shoulder.
They sat for a while as the fire burned down low. It was full dark and the fire was nothing but coals.
“I was going to tell you. I wanted to.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Okay,” Kara sighed.
Lena swallowed hard, trying not to feel her blood rushing in her ears.
“You know,” she said. “You could kiss me right now, if you wanted. That seems like the kind of thing the hero does after saving the girl.”
“I could?” said Kara.
“You could.”
“Like this?”
Kara was trying to be smooth, and it made it hard for Lena not to giggle. She tipped Lena’s chin up with soft fingers and guided herself in, bringing their lips together. Kara kissed her softly, tentatively. Lena kissed her back just as softly, afraid this moment would shatter if she pressed too hard.
It was easy to shift herself into Kara’s lap, even before Kara lifted her there. Lena knew she was strong but not Kryptonian strong, and it it sent a thrill through her. She liked it.
She liked touching Kara, too. Liked feeling the bunching muscles flex under under hands, the softness of her hair, the way she gasped when she felt Lena’s lips on her throat.
“Never have I wished so badly for a tent and sleeping bags,” said Lena.
“And marshmallows to toast!” said Kara.
“Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Lena giggled.
Kara looked at her intently, and Lena shivered, not from the cold. She’d longed for Kara to see her like that, look at her like that.
“Sometimes,” Kara whispered. “Sometimes I think about other things.”
“We should probably go back,” said Lena. “We have people who are probably looking for us.”
Kara nodded.
“Do you want this to be… do you want us to be?”
“Kara,” said Lena, “I would have asked you out a year ago if I thought I had a chance. I thought you just wanted to be friends.”
Kara swallowed. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?”
Lena smiled softly. “Yes.”
Kara rose and clasped her cape to her shoulders, then gently brought Lena to her feet and lifted her from the ground, holding her close.
“Not so fast this time, okay?”
“Okay,” said Kara, lifting them back into the sky.
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servicpop · 2 months
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✶ ﹑ㅤspring break flingㅤ﹏
NOW STARRING : deliquent (still not yet) bf Adrien x good student m!reader
「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤSpring break is around the corner and the school plans a trip to the water park! Adrien and reader are still on tough terms but Adrien can't bear another moment to see you with anyone else!
✙ warnings — reader is kinda pervy and is suggested to take interest in their friend | jealous Adrien, risky/semi-public sex, bite marks, degradation, he's very possessive, dubcon(?), slightly overstim
notes ,, mushed both requests for Adrien together
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It had been a week or so after the whole cockblocking incident with Adrien, but you've learnt to shake it off. Besides, the more important thing was the trip to the water park that was planned by your school to congratulate the seniors for their hard work in studying! Of course, being the student president, you were assigned to assist in the event and help everything go as smoothly as planned. Unfortunately, this meant that you had to sacrifice your time to actually get in the water and swim to help out, but you didn't mind as much knowing how many little kids have peed in the pools...
On the day of the trip, you were given a badge that adorned your name and the smaller letters of 'helper' underneath it as well as a corny custom shirt with your school's logo on it that was made by your teachers. Getting onto the bus didn't require much from you since your real job was to walk around the park aimlessly and stop any of the students from accidentally— or purposefully— committing a crime that would get the whole school banned. As you ushered your friend to sit on the window seat of the bus, like the gentleman you are, you opted for the isle seat so you could stretch your legs throughout the 3 hours it would take to reach your destination.
One by one your classmates shuffled through the bus, picking and choosing their ideal seats with smiles across their faces; it wasn't often that the school provided a field trip like this. Your eyes locked onto a few of Adrien's friends walk by your seat, but none of them were the man himself. You figured someone like him would rather skip school trips, in fact, you can't remember the last time you actually saw Adrien whenever there was a school trip. It would be nice to have him around sometimes though, just once. But you couldn't think like that! Not after all the stress he's caused you, and— speak of the devil; you hear that familiar rumble of Adrien's laugh as he walks onto the bus. You take the iniative to turn your head away from Adrien in an attempt to ignore him, your friend picked up on your actions and giggled at you.
A lingering brush of warmth against the skin of your forearm made your hairs rise and your body shiver. That bastard purposefully used his calloused fingertips to tease you. Your head whipped back and you caught a glimpse of Adrien's smirk before he turned his head away from your direction. He always found ways to make your heart race, and you couldn't tell if it was endearment or anger.
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The sun was harsh against your skin as you wandered the premises of the water park. The whole process of trying to get a shitload of people into the water park was a nightmare and feeling Adrien's piercing gaze on your back 24/7 wasn't helping either. But finally, after that agonising hour, you were left to the peacefulness of your own thoughts as you ventured the park. You felt a tingling sensation of regret in your heart from seeing all your classmates splash around in the water. It must've been heavenly in this heat.
One of your friends must've noticed how flushed you were getting from the heat and called you over to the food court, "You look like you're dying, prez," having your friend call you 'prez' in a shortened version of president was kind of corny but you dismissed it nonetheless. One thing good about this heat was the fact that you could see the builds of all the guys, and your friend was no exception. "Is that the heat making your eyes wander or...?" Your friend let out a light-hearted chuckle when he saw the way your eyes drooped down to peak at his body. Damn, were you really that much of a pervert? You playfully nudge his shoulder in embarrassment before he offered to buy you icecream from one of the food stalls, and you follow him more than willingly.
"Who's that?" Adrien witnessed you get swept away and he couldn't help his jaw from clenching. Without a word, he left the wave pool almost immediately to tail after you, leaving his friends confused by the sudden mood change.
You and your friend bought ice-blocks and sat down together on a nearby bench, unaware that Adrien was watching from a distance. The bystanders shuffled away from him and some mothers even pulled their children away from Adrien. You bought the raspberry flavoured one and your friend bought the pineapple, and surprisingly it was better than the ones you bought at the store. "Hey, let's switch, I wanna taste yours," and before you knew it, your raspberry flavoured ice block was replaced with his pineapple one. You didn't mind too much since you were friends so you shrugged it off and tasted his, the tangy and sweet taste twirled on your tongue with the hint of sourness pricking your taste buds. Not bad, but the raspberry one was better, "I like mine better—" a hand grabs your collar and tugs you off the seat like a kitten being held by its scruff. You knew exactly who it was from the way your friend's eyes widened with slight fear — he was a deliquent after all, people were naturally afraid.
"What is your problem?!" You struggle in his grasp as Adrien dragged you into one of the bathroom stalls, slamming the door shut and locking it. You wince when your back is shoved against the wall and caged in. Adrien really did have a thing for pinning you to a wall in public places huh... "What are you doing with that guy?" You can hear the anger rumbling in his voice as his eyes pierced straight into your soul, his hand gripped your jaw, preventing you from looking away, "Sharing saliva like that? You know that's an indirect kiss right?" You could hear the sand on the floor crunch under the weight of Adrien's foot and you only really noticed now that he was wet. Droplets of water hung at the tips of his hair and created a layer of shine that glossed over his abs.
"If you want a guy so bad, I'm right here you fucker," Adrien's breath hitches at his own statement and he found his hand prying off his swimwear, groaning at how the water stuck to his skin and made it a slight bit more inconvenient to take off. He was impatient, could you really blame him? "He's just a friend," you retaliate, doing nothing to stop him but nothing to encourage him either, "Are you really upset over that—" And once again he's cut you off, flipping you so your back pressed agaisnt his chest. You grimace at your clothes getting damp from the water on his body and you flinch at the sudden coolness that pooled at your back. He doesn't respond to you, rather, he clasps your belt and slides it off. Was he really planning to fuck you in the bathroom of a water park?
"You looked at that guy like you were dating him, are you?" Adrien bit back. Literally. He latched his teeth onto the curve of the side of your neck to your nape, sinking his teeth into your skin, laying his tongue flat agaisnt it. You wanted to respond, you wanted to tell him that you were dating him and that you weren't exclusive. But were you really in the position to speak up when Adrien's pulling your boxers down and rubbing his cock along the line of your ass? As much as you tried to contort you body into turning to look at him, his body pressed you flush against the wall. You couldn't see his face but from the little groan he let out, you could tell he craved this as much as you did if not more.
He spat on his fingers, coating them in his saliva as make-shift lubricant before lining the tips of his fingers to your rim. "Does he know your body like I do, huh?" He skipped the initial step of 'one at a time' and pushed two fingers inside you; the slight burn caused your body to squirm uncomfortably. Your palms lay flat against the wall for stability as Adrien rocks your hips along with his fingers that curl inside you, eliciting a small groan. The way his fingers have already found your prostate was insane and he certainly wasn't going to let this discovery go to waste. Repeated thrusts of his fingers bullied your prostate, your voice spilt out like water, filling the room with lewd sounds. "Fuck," You cursed under your breath; your teeth catching on your bottom lip, biting down in a futile attempt to muffle the noises.
You couldn't see his face but you knew damn well Adrien was grinning like a Cheshire cat. He removed his fingers from your ass, slipping them out with a small pop before slapping his dick agaisnt the curve of your ass connected to your back, "I don't care if we aren't together. I don't care if you don't want me, I want you more than my next breaths and no one can take that away from me." Adrien's voice was heavy and sultry as he spoke to you, and his breath fanned your ear, causing goosebumps to run down your spine. The shuffling behind you indicated that Adrien was moving and suddenly you felt a hand grasp your nape while another found its comfort on your hip. You could barely make it out through Adrien's heavy breathing but he whispered under his breath, "perfect."
The anticipation was eating away at you. You knew Adrien loved taking his sweet time to savour you. Adrien seemed to read your thoughts — or the way your body involuntarily rocked against him — and he finally prodded his tip at your entrance, sliding in slowly with a low growl that reverberated in the tight bathroom stall. Fuck, it felt heavenly. He was able to fit inside you so perfectly, like you were moulded and made just for him. A whine ripped through your throat from both the pain and the pleasure of Adrien thrusting into you. He buried himself to the hilt, circling his hips when he was filly sheathed inside you before pulling out just to pound back into you which pulled out another moan from your lips. All these embarassing noises were saved for him. Just for him.
Adrien had pressed you so close to the wall that every so often the underside of your cock would brush against the cold wall, sending a shock of pleasure up your body. At first Adrien was confused, almost concerned how your body would jerk and his hips stuttered, unsure if he was hurting you. But he later found out the true reason behind it and a grin plastered across his face, "Is it too cold for you?" He cooed with faux concern, "I'll help you warm up," Adrien's voice dropped an octave as the hand that was placed at your nape snaked down to your cock, sliding it between the wall and your poor dick. The sudden warmth was no better, in-fact it was probably worse as now your cock was engulfed in the heat from Adrien's palm. Your mind began blanking when he slid this thumb over your slit, rubbing it repeatedly as he pounded into you from behind. The slow, gentle movement of his thumb contrasted with the harsh and fast thrusting of his hips which didn't help the overstimulation. "Adrien— not both," You whined, trying to pry his hands off your dick weakly but ultimately failing in the end as he pinned your hand back agaisnt the wall, intertwining your fingers with his, "You can take it, c'mon, I know you can," he groaned loving the way you squirmed, trying to escape from the pleasure but also not doing anything to seriously stop it.
Except... you couldn't take it. Adrien rolling his thumb over your tip while he hit your prostate at the same time made you see stars and you couldn't stop yourself from cumming on the spot; white fluid spurted onto the bathroom wall and your moan came out high pitched and shaky. Your voice had always been a turn-on for him so naturally he came too at the sight of you reaching your climax. His hips stuttered before he wrapped both arms around your waist, bear-hugging you as he held you close to his body while he stuffed you full.
The bathroom was now filled with heavy breathing and the slight musk of sweat and sex in the air. "Can you let go of me?" Your words broke the awkward silence and you found yourself unable to move from Adrien's iron grip, "Mm... I wanna stay like this," he groaned like a needy little kid, tightening his grip around your waist as if you were a teddy bear. Adrien grabbed your chin and turned it to the side, allowing him to lean in for a quick kiss which you groan at. He pulls up his swimming shorts and helps you put your clothes back on too, "Don't do that again if you still want your full ability to walk," Adrien warned before swinging the door open and walking out without turning back. Another frustrated groan leaves your throat as you follow him out but in the opposite direction with a slight limp.
"God, do you see him limping?" "What do you think he did for Adrien to beat him up like that?" "Damn, I hope he's okay, that looks like it hurts." You could hear the soft murmurs and whispers of your classmates when you walked out of the stall, they really were clueless, huh?
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notes ,, long awaited... more adrien...
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inklessletter · 3 months
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The first time Steve hears Eddie singing that song, it's nothing but a absent-minded humming while he's doing something else. Writing something down, he thinks, for the campaign, probably.
Steve knows that song, that's why he smiled when he heard the soft, muffled tone falling out of Eddie's throat. Steve's heard Will singing it, and it's so painfully Jonathan, that song wears his signature all over. Maybe it's because it's The Smiths, and The Smiths is Jonathan.
Steve holds a smile and keeps himself busy, away from Eddie's eyes, because of course, that's what he does. No need to cause a scene, he could go on with his day without Eddie asking him "why are you smiling like an airhead?" Nah, thank you very much.
It's not his music scene, but Steve admits that it has been a favourite since it came out. It was just so goddamn relatable. He first heard it when Nancy dumped him, and sometimes, when he was working at Scoops, he could hear that song coming from the rock station Robin liked, coming from the backroom. No surprise she likes that song too.
Those were dark times for him. Summer job at Scoops, that is. It was a disappointment after another; no university, no high school anymore, no girlfriend, no status to hide after, no friends but the kids he drove all around Hawkins (and yet, three weeks away from Dustin, who was the only one who actually went to see him without asking for anything in return), the most embarrassing dry spell and having absolutely zero idea of what to do next. And that song just randomly filled the air and he indulged himself for two minutes to sulk on his own misery and he felt surprisingly less depressed right after.
So, yeah, that song holds a special meaning for him, a soothing balm for his broken heart, a good nostalgia from his darkest period.
And it comes back to him, from Eddie's voice, and it comes to stay the rest of the day. The rest of the week.
It makes him sad. A good sad, Steve guesses.
He's not really better than a couple years ago, but he's less scared, which is undeniably a victory.
He lets out a sigh and walks away from Eddie, leaves him there, happy and focused and begging.
Steve comes to notice that Eddie sings that song a lot, and he's making it his business not to ask, not to sing along, not to say or do anything that may reveal that Eddie's version of that song is becoming so fast the best he's ever heard.
The day the older side of the group go to see him play with his band, and at some point, he just sits and grabs an acoustic guitar and sings it, that one song, the world turns around. It's hard to keep a straight face, and to breathe regularly. A prayer, a begging in form of ballad, the room is in respectful silence, or if there is any background noise his brain makes the greatest job ignoring it.
Feels Robin's hand slipping through his palm and lacing fingers, but he doesn't look at her.
He can't.
His lips, disloyal and treacherous bastards, shape the last sentence of the song.
Lord knows it would be the first time.
The last chord fills the negative space and the bar noises are there again out of the sudden, and some of his friends are shouting nice things, and Eddie is graciously discarding the acoustic guitar and grabbing his sweetheart again and Steve is hoping to go unnoticed when he wipes his face in a quick movement.
He knows Robin sees it, but she says nothing, merciful and elegant.
The gig goes on for a couple of more songs and it's far too soon when Eddie is there, letting himself fall on the stool next to him, all pleased and content and full of black smudged eyeliner and Steve knows he has to say something to him, so he opts to go with, "I really like that song."
It doesn't need any more saying, because Eddie grins and fucking bites his bottom lip, and looks at the floor like it's the most interesting thing in the world, leaning on the bar next to Steve, and Steve knows, he just knows Eddie knows which one he's talking about.
"Yeah. I bet you do."
He doesn't tease, doesn't go with the rancid bUt YoU lIsTeN tO tEaRs FoR fEaRs In YoUr CaR aLl tHe tImEeE shit like the kids like to whine. He doesn't pretend not to know which one he's talking about. Steve smiles at him, buys the guy a beer.
"So, Robin told you? About, uh, about the song."
He tries a bit too hard to look unaffected, but the label of his cold beer bottle has seen better days. Steve feels Eddie going still and turning his head to face him, wielding such soft, almost pitiful expression that makes Steve's inside go still, lungs not working, muscles tense, blood frozen in his veins, and somehow scalding in his cheeks. He dares to look at Eddie, who whispers, "She did not."
The time stops, or so Steve thinks, when he turns his head to look at Eddie, not really moving an inch.
The question goes unspoken.
The answer is one second too long of both their gazes taking residence in the other guy's lips.
And the song comes alive in Steve's mind, and his lips move again.
So for once in my life
let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
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