Tumgik
#same goes @ his readers
yorshie · 5 months
Text
Pea Brained Bounce House time. Was thinking about the earlier Mikey bit. Then I started thinking about Warm Coded. And then:
Raph’s got like. This thing, when you’re working out with him. He uses the cover of coaching you to stare.
It’s not until he’s got you doing chairs against the concrete wall, and you look up in pleading askance on how much longer you’ve gotta hold the position, that you finally catch the way his attention is trained on the swell of your stomach. The uncanny focus of his gaze on your thighs as the muscles start to tremble and seize up.
Raph likes to stare.
#……. hm. is this gonna be a blood orange fic?#are they gonna converge?#looks at the blurple fic I’m already planning. fuck. this might be a blood orange fic#but how would that even work?#Mikey is so much harder to set a boundary with than Leo and Donnie#and what about my head canon of Mikey sneaking into Raph’s bed during nightmares?#I could just see. raph wakes up and readers all against him all warm and cuddly#he goes for the sleepy morning action#but his hand knocks against Mikey’s shell and there’s like the awful dawning realization that his little bro is cock blocking him#cue Mikey waking up cuz you smell all warm and he wants action too#only for the same realization to have th both going >:[ at each other#raph gets up like fuck this I’ll be a good boyfriend I’ll go get breakfast. you want pastries doll? I'll get you fucking pastries#and Mikey’s like fuck that I’ll be a better boyfriend I’m gonna go make homemade juice#and then reader is like. wtf where are my cuddly buddies? Why is everyone so pissy this fine morning?#<- zero clue they are in the middle of a pissing contest#goes to take a morning shower and gets interrupted cuz Mikey doubles back#youngest sibling gotta take advantage of the older one being out and all that#I could just see him all annoyed halfway to the Kitchen before going *wtf am I doing* and backtracking to corner reader in the bathroom#raph drags reader back in his room and closes the door in mikey's face when he gets back with pastries#cuz personal space (nest) privileges and it was cold outside and damn it he's was a good boyfriend he deserves cuddle time#also he didn't get mikey any pastries#proceeds to show reader there's more than one way to enjoy a pastry#……… have to think about this one actually plot poly is hard#raccoon rambles
25 notes · View notes
Text
Might be a hot take but a major character’s death is really only as good as the weight and the treatment that the narrative gives it. Sure, any author has the ability to write death as they see fit. But whether the consumer (of any given form of media) is actually able to emotionally connect and resonate with the departure of someone who has occupied a good chunk of narrative space very heavily depends on how it’s treated within the story. If it’s a major character, the narrative needs enough built-in breathing space. As in, the consumer doesn’t have to fill in the blanks as to how the death impacted the plot or the remaining characters. Let the narrative do that for them, and that would actually allow the consumer to better react and relate to that major death (sadness, anger, joy, etc). Allow the rest of the characters (who were impacted by the deceased) to react to their parting. Let them engage with the death in a manner that helps justify the character’s inclusion in the narrative to begin with. Make it clear how the character’s life and (especially) their death relate to the larger themes of the story. Because most consumers aren’t stupid. We don’t want our hands held at every waking moment, but we also don’t want our investment in a story to be insulted just for the sake of a cheap shock. Give us time to breathe and grieve. And respect that we have put in a lot of emotional investment in a story and its characters, and we deserve to have that acknowledged.
#recent developments in a very popular ip have forced me to think about how creators treat the deaths of major or main characters#and the discourse of ~ohh we don’t need to see every single thing~ has got me thinking#like sure we don’t need to be spoon fed everything but consumers have varying emotional investments depending on the characters#a side character it’s passable if we don’t get any fanfare but a MAIN???#we’ve invested so much into their journey and the themes in their arcs and how they affect the world around them#is it too bad to want that to be actually acknowledged by & within the narrative?#so that whole thing got me to think about main characters whose deaths were well done in fiction#ned stark imo is a really good one because the immediate payoff of his death is the start of the wot5k and long term effect was#that the stark kids now had to fill in their father’s shoes and rise and become leaders in their own right and while we still have twow an#ados we can also tell as shown in adwd that the long term effect of Ned’s legacy is that house stark will be preserved even when it’s on th#brink of extinction#so that’s a well done imo because we also see throughout 4 books just how much his death meant to the kids#his death hurts because we see how his kids are hurting - jon arya sansa bran are GOING THROUGH IT AND IT HURTS!#I’d argue MCU did a pretty good job of showing tony’s everlasting legacy after his death and they did that through Peter who was the proteg#we can love and grieve for tony though peter whom we love and have come to relate to so Tony’s death has a lot of narrative weight#and how it’s handled is satisfying even though we’re hurt that he’s gone#same with sirius and dumbledore in HP - sirius’ especially hits sooo hard because Harry goes absolutely apeshit in ootp and then has to#pick up the pieces in hbp + dumbledore’s life and death is given quite a good amount of narrative space for both harry and the reader#the recent developments in jjk have me worried that a certain someone’s departure won’t be given the narrative weight it deserves#and part of that is gege’s pacing being wonky because oops it’s another big fight that will take god knows how many chapters idk#I’ll wait and see but as of right now….i feel like fan complaints about it shouldn’t be brushed aside because they’re super valid 😕#asoiaf#harry potter#jujutsu kaisen#mcu#marvel#comics#manga
17 notes · View notes
kakusu-shipping · 16 days
Note
Hello!!! I'm here to drag you back to those fanfics you wrote back in 2022 for a bit, specifically those three at the top about a DND ex-player challenger.
You think if that challenger forgot their life was at stake before Leshy could monologue about being sad they have to go, ect ect, and the challenger just assumed the game was going to be reset, you think Leshy would play along?
I got this ask like early in surgery recovery last month, read it once, and then promptly forgot about it oops sorry anon kfgjfdkjgd
To answer your question uuuuh... No.. But also yes?
For one; Reader never knew their life was on the line. They're a DnD player they assume the whole spooky atmosphere and Leshy playing up the Sacrifice thing is just immersion. They Stupid just like me fr fr and never really question much of anything around them.
For two, I don't think they were thinking that far ahead. They might not have even thought the game had an end, but if they did I doubt they'd think about it Resetting. They're more in the moment than that, at least that's how I wrote them. But that might not be how you, the Reader, might read them or want them to be, as a you in stand in.
Thus, I never wrote that fic series a boss battle ending because I wanted to leave that part to you, dear reader, really.
So what do you think? When you finally sit down to continue where you left off, to face that final boss Leshy had planned just for you, what happens next?
Do you win? Do you lose? Does it matter? Will he snap the shot or simply reset the board? Does it Matter? Are you even the same person? Does It Matter? You sit at the devil's table and are dealt a hand of cards. You've been here before. Other's have been here before. Their photos are on the wall. Your photo is on the wall. You don't recognize yourself
It doesn't matter.
You're playing a game you love, after all, with someone who loves you very much.
2 notes · View notes
yuwuta · 2 months
Note
inuokko.... yuu2... yuwuta do i dare ask you how you feel about okkofushi next?
ofc you can but be prepared for me to be very unnormal about everything mentioned in this ask 😁😁🤒
#anonymous#can you..... tell i like yuuta :/#i also love to think about how all his pairings pan out + reader bc its very <3 to me why have one when u can have fun!#i think inuokko is the most fair/even they both approach u at the same time and want the 3 of u to work#yuuji and yuuta.... bites hand.... gathers myself...... how do i say this......#feels like yuuta thinks yuuji is way too cute for his own good + youre cute with yuuji#and yuuta leans very quickly that he likes the feeling of having u both admire him... having people to protect and want to keep to himself.#ANYWAY! okkofushi rise but theyre tough i feel like it takes a while#lots of dancing around each other and dancing around you#megumi swears he's over his crush on yuuta bc he has a crush on you (which he will deny and take to his grave if he can help it)#but somehow along the way you and yuuta become friends and it's. a lot for megumi lets just say that#think u and yuuta have to find a way to make a move on megumi because hes..... special <3 lets say that#anyway...........................#in general tho im not picky or have particularly strong feelings about ships in general so in addition to loving yuuta#thats part of the reason i like all of these <2#as far as jjk goes there's only two ships i would say i dont like/dont care to talk about but it's like. im not gonna rag on it either yk 😭#honestly tho... even tho i am biased and the most informal about yuuta and yuuji at least u didn't ask about itafushi...#the things i could say... lord...
3 notes · View notes
tvrningout · 5 months
Text
y'all remember when i said maybe cyrillo dies?? i take it back. he's faking his death and retiring to some village by the sea bc i said so uvu
#and actually i think that would be a more fulfilling end to his story for both cyrillo and readers#bc his thing is that he pretty much is living to help others and doesn't give himself that same care#he doesn't neglect his health or anything but the dude never goes on vacation#he throws himself into war when he swore he'd never do that again but it's like!! someone's gotta help the free army!!#so i really like the idea that maybe there's a situation in which it /appears/ cyrillo died#but nah he lived and he retired and became a no one like he was before everything happened#and he's happy he's finally living for himself and taking advantage of his second chance at life /for himself/#for both cyrillo and rin i think a big character-defining trait of theirs is that despite what they've been through and will go through#they love life they love the world they're in they love people and so i think both of them are gonna have that choice#go rest or go back to work#and workaholic cyrillo chooses rest in the form of disappearing to a lil village#and rogue rin goes back to work bc she can't help it. she can't deny that people need her#and hers is a lil more serious bc sunna is like 'i don't gotta resurrect you again. you could die and be reborn anew'#but no rin loves her life despite everything. she's not ready to go yet#AAAHHH SORRY FOR THE RAMBLING I'M :' ))))))#i wanna try to write a lil more before bed so let me stop asdfg#headcanons | dórverold#headcanons | cyrillo#i don't wanna lose this just in case bc of the tags uvu
4 notes · View notes
arklay · 2 years
Text
because i’ve made some new mutuals recently i’ll post about it again: i track #userarklay and you are more than welcome to tag me in your gifs and creations!! i’d love to see them all and reblog them for you ​​♡
#leah.txt#also not limited just to like gifs but mutuals you can also tag me in your art and writing (and really any oc creations) if you’d like to#because i do want to see them all and sometimes miss them!! i haven’t been as active on here in terms of scrolling through the dash so i’ve#definitely missed things. but also just a side note with this please do not tag me in hp stuff ever or i’ll flat out block you. and please#trigger tag spiders/insects/pregnancy/infertility/child death/incest :) if that’s not so much to ask ofc#(can't believe i even need to say that last one oof)#just a little reminder if you post those things and if i don’t interact with them then that’s why!! i am not just ignoring your things i#promise!! also if you make oc things and don't feel comfortable tagging tracked tags because i know the idea of doing that makes me a bit#oughgh then you can always send them to me in dms because i love to see them!! with some filtered tags (mainly pregnancy) i will brave the#storm at times cause most times i'm okay with it if i know that content is being talked about but if it hits me out of nowhere and i wasn't#ready for it or if those topics are talked about particularly insensitively then i will get a bit weird about it idk#oh and i also never like and don't reblog just so creators know!! if i do like something and don't reblog it (which i rarely ever do)#then it's in the queue!! and same goes for if i don't reblog something for a few days. it's either in there or my tag ate it and in that#case you can send it to me and go hi hello hiiii. same goes with writing. i might just need a bit cause i'm a slow reader so it will take#me a bit to get to it!!
15 notes · View notes
saturnsorbits · 2 years
Text
See, the problem with having a load of finished, but unposted fics blocking up my drafts is that now they’ve been sat there for that long I’ve decided I hate them all again and lack the proper abilities to decide if they’re good or not.
5 notes · View notes
soomanymoths · 20 days
Text
Tumblr media
Hey remember how crink made a big stink over asking questions abt the world/characters? Yeah, he made it SOOOO clear he didnt enjoy it. Definitely never asked me specifically to ask him questions, not even once /s. Same thing applies to drawings, AU's, OC's, everything.
0 notes
bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
Text
Government name vs Military callsign
Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: none
Tumblr media
John Price
Government name.
Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.
“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”
Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.
“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”
“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”
He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.
“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”
When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.
Tumblr media
Simon Riley
Military callsign.
When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.
“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”
“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 
Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.
“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.
“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”
Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 
A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.
Tumblr media
Kyle Garrick
Government name.
He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.
“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”
Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.
If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?
“Kyle Ga-”
“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”
You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”
He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”
“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”
He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 
“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.
Tumblr media
John MacTavish
Military callsign.
He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.
Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.
“SOAP!”
Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.
“JOHNNY!”
“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.
“C’mere, c’mere.”
He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”
You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”
He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”
“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”
“You called me Soap.”
“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”
Tumblr media
Posted: 2023 Dec 10
13K notes · View notes
katsukiizmoon · 1 year
Text
╰┈➤ ꒰🍓💌🌶 ┊Katsuki fucks like he can’t live w out you
『♡』 unprotected sex, spitting in mouth, cum eating, pussy licking, creampie, squirting, f!reader, reader has acrylics, biting
Katsuki fucks like he’s going to die without you. His hands shake despite his rough grip on your hips, yanking you down onto his cock. You gasp and moan every time he does it, fingers desperately searching for something to grip onto.
His mouth finds yours, tongue invading your mouth, like he’s hungry. It’s like he’s trying to devour you. He wants to take your soul and keep it. Make it his- make you his.
“Fuck fuck fuck-“ He gasps, face tingling and shaking with pleasure.
Your pussy is squelching, frothing at the base as slick juices run between the two of you. His thick hand reaches to your jaw, thumb pushing between the plush of your lips.
He pries your mouth open and spits, a long string of saliva drizzling into your mouth. Your head throws back against the mattress and you squeal. The coil in your stomach begins to grow taut.
Your hand reaches to blond hair, tugging him lower and you push his spit back into his mouth with your tongue. He groans into the kiss before pulling back.
Katsuki snatches a pillow from his side of the bed, hooking his arm under your knees to lift your ass. It’s placed under your lower back and he shoves your knees to your shoulders, folding you in half.
The angle makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Thick, hot, heavy dick slamming into you with long strokes. He’s got to be in your stomach- you can feel it. The head pushes against the spongey spot inside you and squirt gushes from your pussy onto the both of you.
“Give it to me, y’feel like- oh-“ Katsuki babbles, watching you frantically nod your head.
Your pussy clenches around him and he’s on cloud nine. Acrylic nails dig into his shoulders, your teeth clamp down on the side of his throat. It’s raw- needy and desperate.
He can’t get enough of you. Stray hair sticks to the side of his face, sweat beads at the nape of his neck. His muscles are almost sore from fucking into your tight cunt. And he can’t stop.
He’s addicted. You begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. How he’s god, that you’re in love with him, no one’s gonna ever compare. And the coil in your tummy snaps.
Because he presses his cock against that special spot and stays. As much as it pains him he doesn’t move, waiting. And you explode, clear juice spurting from your pussy and all over his cock and pillow.
Your head throws back and you scream, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He’s the closest to heaven he’ll ever be when you tell him to cum inside you.
And god, he does. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh and he clamps his jaw, teeth marking your shoulder. His hips stutter and he slams his length into you. His entire body goes taught and he fills you. Katsuki starts whining at the thought of what he’s doing.
He can feel his cock head pressed against your cervix now. If there was a way, he’d go further. But for now his cum fills your pussy, drenching the inside of your walls. He pushes your hips up.
“Don’t let it out, fuck- don’t.” Katsuki rasps, fingers running through his hair to move it out of the way.
He laps at your pussy and you squirm in his grip. He’s slurping his own cum out of you like it’s his last meal on this god forsaken earth. Licking at the squirt on your ass, his white ropes, sucking at your clit. You buck up and fuck into his mouth a bit, trying to ride his tongue and escape all the same.
You cum like that, shaking and writhing. He leaves a smack to your ass and shoves his cock back into you, fucking the cum that’s left back in. He’s got one more in him.
You get flipped over to your chest, where his cock is bullying that same spot again. And you just can’t stop squirting. It’s everywhere. The bed is soaked, you’re soaked, he’s soaked.
He finishes in you again after you’re drooling all over the bed and desperately begging for it. He thinks about another round. He doesn’t know how long he can go without you.
Cause to him you put the stars in the sky and your pussy tastes better than water to a man dying of dehydration.
23K notes · View notes
barnbridges · 7 months
Text
which one in your relationship is the girl-matron and which one is the manchild
0 notes
tojipie · 6 months
Text
toji x crybaby reader <3
content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !
˚ ✧ ───────────
toji is a flawed man. 
short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.
he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear. 
you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.
his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.
he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.
you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him. 
he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.
it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.
it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?
he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge. 
instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.
you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands. 
physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.
his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.
toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.
you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul. 
he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words. 
“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours. 
“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”
and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.
he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over. 
the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.
you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.
toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start. 
9K notes · View notes
slttygeto · 7 months
Text
SO, YOU GOT A BOYFRIEND? | GETO S.
Tumblr media
synopsis: when watching a certain scary movie gives your husband, suguru, the perfect idea on how to ruin you.
c.w: p0rn with plot, fem!reader, reader is referred to as “good girl” “pretty girl”, mask kink (hehe<3), slight fear play, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, suguru talks you through it, praise kink, strength kink if you squint, im obsessed with suguru's arms, clit smack, multiple orgasms.
word count: 2,1k
note: i am BRICKED after writing this. happy halloween hehe.
ghostface suguru! ( @aurelianamu )
Tumblr media
In a dimly lit room, at around 10PM—it was a bit cold outside, the perfect weather to snuggle up and watch some movies. Romance movies? No, you did that last week. Action movie? Eh, you were not in the mood for that—oh, Scream. Your thumb presses on the movie before you put the remote control down and walk towards the kitchen to grab some snacks.
“Sugu, I picked a movie!” you announce as you make your way out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Your husband marches down the stairs in a lazy manner, his long strands messily sticking out of his ponytail that he has to stop and tie it up again. He sees what movie you picked and he stands behind you on the couch.
“Scream?” he questions, hands resting on your shoulders.
“First movie, pretty iconic.”
“I don’t think it’s that scary though,” he doesn’t really say that he would rather watch something else, simply joins you on the couch and pulls you towards him with the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap.
The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.
“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.
“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.
“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.
“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.
“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.
“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.
“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.
“Just saying.”
You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.
“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.
A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.
“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?
“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.
You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.
“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.
“Sugu—“
“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”
Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.
“Do you like scary movies?”
“Mhm,”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.
“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.
“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”
“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”
“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.
“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.
“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.
“Nightmare on Elm Street,”
“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.
“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”
He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.
“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.
Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.
“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.
“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.
“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.
You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.
“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.
“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.
“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.
“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.
He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.
Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.
You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.
Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.
“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.
“Let’s do it again, yeah?”
Tumblr media
2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
—💭 if you like this, leave a tip!
14K notes · View notes
criminalamnesia · 3 months
Note
Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!
And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.
ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.
you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.
your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.
you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.
one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.
you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.
one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.
the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.
he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.
“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.
the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.
well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.
you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.
apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.
simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.
“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.
“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.
the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.
you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.
the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?
“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”
“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”
“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.
“points to you.”
“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.
he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.
“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.
you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.
“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.
“or should we take off another?”
you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”
“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.
“ghost!”
it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.
“what, mactavish? im busy.”
“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.
the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).
“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.
“it’s fucking shepard.”
it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.
you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.
“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.
you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.
you pass out.
when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.
“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.
your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.
the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.
your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.
“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.
you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.
“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.
“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.
“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”
he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.
he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.
just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.
“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.
you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.
“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.
“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”
“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.
“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.
“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.
“and whose fault is that?”
the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.
“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.
you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.
simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.
your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.
“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.
“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.
the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.
“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.
spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.
john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.
when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.
the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.
there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.
it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.
your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.
when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.
“how’re you feeling?”
you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.
“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”
the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.
the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.
“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.
no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.
you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—
you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.
that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.
your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.
————————————————
authors note:
I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.
thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶
7K notes · View notes
sttoru · 7 months
Note
Could you do a scenario where megumis daycare teacher is hitting on y/n and toji and meg get really overprotective about it <3 love you parenting series sm
⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. themes containing jealousy / protectiveness.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
you were stunning. that much was known and evident to toji and others around you. your looks were captivating — however, you always seem demanded to deny that fact. even when you have a husband who reminds you of how good you look on a daily basis.
but with good looks comes male attraction; something toji greatly dislikes since you’re his wife. it isn’t like he’ll be mad at you about it — no, not at all. in fact, toji feels a surge of pride every time someone tells him how lucky he is to be your husband.
the thing is: he gets a little. . . too jealous and overprotective every now and then when the harmless compliments turn into blatant flirting.
“oi, megumi,” toji grumbles as he holds his son in his arms, looking out in the distance. specifically at you talking to megumi’s daycare teacher for a bit way too long to his liking, “ya see that? mommy’s being hit on right in front of us.”
the little boy stops chewing on one of toji’s hair strands, seemingly understanding whatever his dad had said. megumi lets out a small ‘oh!’ noise and stretches his arm out in your direction, pointing at you, “mama.”
you were too busy answering the questions megumi’s teacher asked you to even realise that your husband and son were looking at you from far away. toji’s menacing aura, however, only seemed to intensify the more you talked to that man.
“tsk. . . all right, kid—listen up.” toji narrows his eyes at the scene before putting megumi down on his feet, crouching down to be at eye level with the boy. he puts a hand on megumi’s shoulder and whispers a plan in a ‘baby-language’ his son could understand;
the two are being the perfect partners in crime right now (they always have been; since megumi’s birth to be precise).
megumi’s daycare teacher was telling you a fun story about what your son had done to which you politely laughed at. in that same moment you could feel someone tugging at your pants lightly — as if wanting to catch your attention,
“oh — hi, my baby.” your face lights up as you see megumi standing behind you. his big eyes were staring up at you, fingers curled around the fabric of your trousers still — not a clue of what he wanted of you,
you tilt your head to the side in slight confusion and when you wanted to crouch down to be at eye level, the little boy suddenly starts to scream and cry as if he just experienced something traumatic. when in reality, nothing in the current scenery had changed to provoke such a dramatic reaction.
“woah, woah, hey. .” you were startled by the sudden switch in megumi’s mood — his face going from a neutral expression to one of pure despair as he (fake) cried. not only you, but also the daycare teacher seemed to take a step back from the sudden screams echoing in the area.
you immediately pick megumi up and try to calm him down, not pressing him for answers on why he suddenly decided to have an-almost-mental-breakdown-like outburst.
another switch was flipped in the toddler once your attention was diverted from his daycare teacher to him and him only. your eyebrow raised at how easily megumi shut up and went from a state of distraught to one of content in your arms.
that’s when you glance over at your husband who stood near the exit of the daycare, leaning against the wall with his bulky arms crossed, a proud and smug grin on his face — his plan seemed to have succeeded. all credit goes to his son for succeeding in catching you off guard.
“damn, seems like the brat needed his mama’s attention, eh?” toji calls out with an ‘innocent’ shrug, snickering after that, “like father, like son — they say.”
it took you only a few seconds to realise that toji had probably asked megumi to catch your attention by faking to cry near you — knowing you’d drop anything to comfort your child at any time, no matter what you were doing.
“oh, you little . . .” you bite your tongue to refrain from scolding your childish husband out in public. you look down at megumi, seeing him stare back at you with happiness in his blue eyes. you certainly couldn’t be mad at him, “you. you’re lucky you’re cute, ‘gumi.”
you chuckle and kiss your son’s forehead, bidding the teacher farewell quickly (leaving him disappointed by the rushed ending of your conversation), before walking to toji.
megumi squirms in your arms and when you put him down, he instantly runs to his dad, expecting something in return for his performance. toji did seem to have promised him something in exchange for accomplishing his mission—
“papa! papa! candy!”
you raise an eyebrow as toji takes out a piece of candy from his pocket, reserved just for his son. toji was beaming with pride, ruffling megumi’s hair before handing him the delicacy, “here ya go. good job out there, kid.”
you roll your eyes, as that was the only thing you could do after walking right into their trap like that. as per usual.
the cherry on top was that your husband was mocking you like an annoying manchild on the way back home — recalling how worried you reacted when megumi successfully acted like he was crying.
megumi giggled along with his dad, leaving you entirely defenceless. at least you could laugh with them as well.
they got you good.
Tumblr media
11K notes · View notes
sednas · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
ও best friend's big brother!choso x fem!reader
Tumblr media
choso who knows it's so wrong to lust over the best friend of his little brother but he can't help himself. he's glad his little brother is so oblivious sometimes, anyone else would have noticed that his distraction arrived at the exact same time as you when yuji welcomed you to their house after you got kicked out of your apartment. and honestly, choso is praying for you to never find an apartment ever again.
choso who grips his cup of tea a little tighter when he sees you in the morning, hair all messy, quickly walking towards the bathroom while rubbing your sleepy eyes, your tits moving freely under your shirt and your nipples piercing through the fabric. choso often goes to the bathroom after you, desperate to rub his hard on after seeing you walking while looking like that.
choso whose room is right next to the guest room where you sleep...
choso who happens to hear you every time you touch yourself late at night, and he tries to be respectful, he tries to go back to sleep with his earphones on like any normal person would do, god he really tries to... but soon enough he can feel the stinging ache between his legs begin to rise and he blushes as he pictures your naked body under the covers, your fingers coated in your sweet juices. he bites and licks his lip, wondering how you'd taste like against his tongue, rubbing his rock hard cock through his boxers while thinking of it.
choso who cums so fucking hard while thinking about you that he lets out a high-pitched moan that echoes in the silent night. it's already too late when he shamefully slams his hand against his mouth, he's sure you heard him.
choso who can't even look into your eyes the morning after, stuttering as he says good morning back to you and... wait did you just smirk and wink at him??
6K notes · View notes