#that ends up fucking a donkey

[daisychain-unchained]

Bless you, Bonzo, for going absolutely ape shit on In My Time of Dying

#😩🙌 #still the best workout song #he understood the assignment and then some #that moment where robert’s vocals line up with his rhythm on ‘yeah…that’s my jesus’ #fucking perfection #i’ve always wondered if some of the end was ad libbed #and they just started jamming #anyway picturing bonzo’s head on the body of donkey kong now #rambling on #led zeppelin #john bohnam #in my time of dying

[traitorsinsalem]

goodness gracious mama mia

#succ speaks #fuck the bts team for not showing them divorce court btw. #i never thought i would see such a disappointing mianite-related stream. and i watched all of isles! [old man laugh track] #somehow this was the greatest video game event i have ever taken part in thanks to the awesome community (including the one ending in mc) #but this stream sucked absolute donkey dick. glad we can get back on the server and this wasn't the end of it. #not the streamers' fault though i think. the event was just nothing like promised. i'll be honest i was an isles apologist until now. #something something they worked so hard to make it happen and keep it running why the unnecessary hate....i can't lie to myself anymore man. #a lot of us thought the stream was going to be more lighthearted and not hardass objective build judge w/ half the plots taken out for time #like sure the prize was a good amount of money but tom and jordan were clearly trying to have fun but felt like they couldn't that much. idk #the absolutely brilliant times we had building and having fun and talking and helping each other on the server felt like they were erased... #...from this stream. EVEN THE END was super watered down and dec definitely did his best to give them the background of it all. #idk. madspy and dec were super cool i feel like some other factors and/or people behind this caused it to flop with the community. #the mods can only do so much 'your build was amazing and unique you should be proud of it' or whatever without showcasing the things... #...we were all talking and laughing and excited about while on the server. it feels like this wasn't an event that was meant to leave... #a certain circle. this is just my view but personally i would have enjoyed this way more if there WASN'T a streamed judging. #or that the judging was a couple of days long so they didn't have to rush through it and everyone could be seen. #i think the mods should take our gripes into consideration rather than trying to cheer us up or act like it's our problem. #but hey. [old man laugh track] thaaaaat's our good ol' mianite! #the event itself though was incredible and i'm really happy it happened. like the actual building part. i got a lot out of it and got to... #...meet so many people. we all had a lot of fun and put in a lot of time and work but it didn't feel like a burden to partake in it yk! #having dec and madspy and wh (i forget his name all the time) on a lot was really fun too! they were really kind and fun to be around... #...and we got to learn some cool little bits of bts info. finding out that dec was 16 when mianite started was INSANE especially. #and like i'm not just salty cuz my build wasn't featured. being able to make it in the first place was enough for me bc it was my first... #...serious build! and the other people on the server really enjoyed it and to me having the community appreciate it is so much more... #...heartwarming to me and makes me happier than if this would have been a 'private' thing and the streamers looked through every bit... #...and praised it. i loved being able to take part in this event but honestly i wish i wouldn't have watched the stream. it made me upset... #...to see so many INSANE builds and aspects of builds i got to watch people work on and help them with get mere crumbs of recognition. #i know tom in particular appreciates mianite fan content so splitting this up into multiple streams so they didn't get bored or tired or... #...have to rush would have been a pretty obvious solution. but again you can always count on the mianite bts team to make things... #...unnecessarily complicated or simple while ignoring the very clear best paths! [old man laugh track]

[isaacathom]

i do think florian gets a kind of happy ending, ultimately, but it's not because of what happened in the campaign, its in SPITE of what happened there. its him looking at what he's done, the measure of his actions since taking that job in Vizima, and going 'wow! i have left the world worse' and deciding he has to do Something.

He goes north first, to find Zeke's family, because they deserve to have any fucking idea what has happened to him and his twin brother. they deserve an apology. they deserve SOMETHING for this, because that's florian's fault, isn't it? he'd certainly think so

then he heads back to temeria. and he does survive the war. i dont know how the war ends, or what role he plays, arriving as he does in its latter portions. he finds some way to be there, something small he can try to do.

in one of his au versions, he adopts a child. i imagine he might do so in canon too, during this time. some way that, he hopes, he can try and make things better. look after those who have noone looking out for them anymore, the same way he felt as a kid (in very VERY different circumstances, mind).

i dont know if he goes home properly. if he returns to his noble's estate, laden with pre-war debt, to which he is due to inherit on the death of his father. is that estate even his anymore, or did a nilfgaardian captain seize it long ago. would anyone even recognise the claim of the de Kasimir heir on that building? would he recognise it for himself? i dont think he would. though he still bears the name, he does not go back. if the spot was open, he does not want it. let his uncle claim it, or his cousin. if someone chases him down about it, concoct some story. maybe even fake his death, if its so necessary. he doesn't want that

he'd settle somewhere, possibly avoiding places he'd travelled through before if he could. pseudononymous. some people might recognise his name. if temeria becomes nilfgaardian ultimately, people may have even heard about him from the tourneys. too bad. he's settling somewhere, doing the sort of small work that a former soldier might be suited to. back to escorting farmers to the next town to sell wares. back to helping the old man down the road plough his field, taking advantage of the fact he owns a donkey still.

he avoids grand adventure. its small scale. its little. anyone asks him about his life before he came there, he'll tell them he was a soldier, a sword for hire. he lost his arm during the last war. noone needs to know he lost it to a beast in the woods of nilfgaard, rather than at sword end. noone needs to know he fought vampires. noone needs to know he won the open variety tourney. he's florian, a veteran settling after a bloody conflict. he doesn't have to be anything else.

#florian de kasimir #my friend did joke that he ends up as a sort of Ged figure. which is to say he's a man with a long reputation #and people could come to find him. please! sell your sword once more! lend us your aid! #and he looks at them from his haphazard porch and goes 'and who the fuck is gonna look after my donkey if i do that?' #my pumpkins? artur down the road? #you've found this former soldier with a swordsmanship unmatched by most #and hes a greying 43yo man with a missing arm and a chronic stomach condition who wants you to fuck off #hes not even up to teach you swordsmanship. go away. ill pay you to get the fuck off my property #you're asking after a man who is not here. the man who would do those things died in wartand #aaaAAAAAAAAA

[heavenknowsffs]

.

#so fucking useless i can't even fathom this night #i feel like shit #my friends were targeted by this fucking asshole and all i could do was try to talk to them and amenize things #my best friend couldn't even talk to me out of anger and i just left to give her space even though i should have stayed #and endured her anger and been there for her #and literally fucking kill that guy because he doesn't deserve the air he breathes #i just don't know i can't do anything and i was justthere witnessing things happen and couldn't even help at all #and then i cried like it was even anything to do with me when it wasn't but i am so tired of everything #personal #if i see him again it's on like donkey kong i might have drank a lot of beer but i this is not just today this has been going on #since months bc he's an abusive fuck and this is what he wanted all along to strike up shit with us #because he KNEW it would make a spetacle in front of a lot of people that don't know him #and would take his side and say we are the crazy ones #but at least my entire village came together to try and stop violence and put and end to it before it escalated further #but tbh that asshole should have his ass beat so badly he ends up in the urgencies and stays there for weeks #i wish killing without repercussion was legal for abusive pricks like this one fuck him i hope he dies i don't even care + #if that makes me a bad person #you mess with mine i will throw the entire malocchio i can think of on you

[sserasin]

fwb!heeseung

cw nsfw under cut, female reader, infidelity, jealousy, almost choking, public sex, exhibitionism, possessive!heeseung, maybe a little toxic!heeseung too, anal (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), taking pics/videos during sex (and then sending them to bf), boyfriend ends up unintentionally cucking, squirting, this is more like headcanons cause i’m lazy sorry

nsfw link

this is the type of shit heeseung would send to your boyfriend 😵‍💫

fwb!heeseung who starts off as a friend at a party. you don’t even really remember what led up to you being naked in his bed the next morning, but you do remember every moment of him railing you in his bed. so when he offers to continue fucking, like a fwb, you accept.

fwb!heeseung who finds himself falling in love with you as your relationship progresses, sneaking kisses when you’re not even having sex, just because he can kiss you.

fwb!heeseung who is so surprised that you suddenly have a boyfriend, who is so blindsided and hurt that he fucks you on the floor, not really caring if you got bruises in the midst.

fwb!heeseung that refuses to stop seeing you even when you end up getting a boyfriend. he pretends he’s listening when you tell him why you can’t fuck anymore, and then he’s right back to being all up in your personal space, leaving kisses scattered across your body.

fwb!heeseung doesn’t know when to stop, and he’s a very persuasive guy. it doesn’t take much for him to convince you that you two could ‘still lowkey fuck’.

fwb!heeseung who knows no boundaries, still acting the very same in front of your boyfriend. he’ll grip you by the waist, hug for a second too long, say flirty comments to you right in front of said boyfriend. your boyfriend isn’t stupid, he knows heeseung likes you, but he trusts you too much to think it’s going any further than heeseung’s ‘failed’ advances. at this point, you don’t know how your boyfriend hasn’t caught on yet.

fwb!heeseung who takes every chance he gets to fuck you, pulling you into the backseat of his car as the parking lot is completely stranded save for a few other cars. he’s too big to have car sex, but he also really doesn’t care. he doesn’t really care to keep you quiet, more so does it just to placate you, and is always egging you on to be louder. “come on, tell me who’s fucking you this good,” he chuckles breathlessly, rutting up into you as you bounce on his cock, whimpering his name and little begs for him to help. “fuck, let everyone else know.”

fwb!heeseung who takes you at every party, leaving your boyfriend downstairs alone for however long heeseung wants. he’s not letting you go until he’s done with you, that is for certain. he bends you over the bathroom sink, hand gripping your hair and forcing your back against his front, “so you can see who’s ruining you. not him, not anyone else,” you whimper as his cock hits at a specific angle, slamming against that soft spot that heeseung knows like the back of his hand by now, “me.”

fwb!heeseung who is always trying to find something on your boyfriend for you to break up with him, even coming up with the silliest accusations. “he shit himself in the eighth grade at an assembly.” “i heard he’s actually part donkey.” because really, your boyfriend is an angel, and it frustrates him that he’s seemingly perfect.

fwb!heeseung who convinces you for a quickie in between classes, in a quiet, lone hall. his hand is shoved against your mouth and nose, almost totally constricting your airway. your breaths are short, almost like a gasp for air as his hips slam into yours with his other free hand circling your clit, “you gotta be quiet, remember?” he croons, his breath heavy in your ear. “don’t want baby to find us,” he snickers, using the nickname you used for your boyfriend earlier. you blink, saying through his hand despite the spots in your vision, “who?” he grins at your response, pace quickening to reach your orgasms.

fwb!heeseung who takes advantage of the fact that your boyfriend is always at basketball practice, thankful that he’s always so busy, he doesn’t have time to take care of you. but heeseung? he does, and even if he didn’t, he’d skip it just to be with you. he always uses this against you, too. “he’s not even here to take care of you,” he hums, head between your thighs, placing small kisses on them. “what would you do if i weren’t here, hm?” before you can even answer, his mouth is already sucking on your clit.

fwb!heeseung who sends nudes to you when he knows you’re out with your boyfriend. you both know he hopes your boyfriend sees them so you can finally, completely be his. he first sends a picture of his clothed crotch, hand gripping his hardened cock, sending a ‘wyd?’ when he knows damn well what you’re doing. when you don’t respond, he sends another picture with his sweats off, his cock threatening to slip out of the waistband of his boxers. when that doesn’t get a response, he texts, ‘wish u were here :( wouldn’t have to take care of this by myself’ and another video of him palming his cock, slipping it out of his boxers and slowly starting to jerk off. he always makes sure to leave the audio on, just for you.

fwb!heeseung who always overstays his welcome at your apartment, staying for so long he either narrowly misses your boyfriend arriving or he’s still there, stuck in your closet or under your bed or wherever else he’s decided to hide this time, as your boyfriend is none the wiser. you somehow manage to sneak him out, always sending a long text that you two should finally stop. but he refuses, always convincing you with a press of his lips on yours. the thrill and his love for you is too exhilarating for him to stop.

fwb!heeseung who takes videos and pictures of you; pictures with his dick in your mouth with your eyes teary, looking up at him. pictures with him fully inside you, a bulge from his cock protruding from your lower abdomen. pictures with his cum leaking out of your hole, others with his cum on your face, your stomach, your ass, wherever. there’s pictures of him, too, head buried between your thighs. “what would your boyfriend think if i sent all of our little memories to h—him? show him the you that sluts it out for dick, so desperate for it that you fuck other men instead of your boyfriend.”

fwb!heeseung who gets tired of the back and forth shit, who decides that you must love him, too, if you allow him to fuck you without a condom, if you allow him to fuck your ass, if you allow him to cum inside you. if you’ve stuck with him this long, you have to.

fwb!heeseung who sends a video to your boyfriend while he’s at practice, no words, just the video of him fucking your ass with the audio still on with you moaning his name.

fwb!heeseung who decides just showing your boyfriend pictures and videos of you on his cock isn’t enough, still fucking you through your orgasm just as your boyfriend comes through your door. heeseung pulls you up by your neck, back against his front like so many times in a stranger’s bathroom. he squeezes, capturing your attention, “we have a visitor.” when you gasp in horror and try to get away from him, his hand tightens around your neck, making your body contort in pleasure as your airway is blocked, different colored spots appearing in your vision. your back arches against him, head thrown on his shoulder as he continues hammering into your ass. “go on, tell your boyfriend how you were never really his— you were always mine, weren’t you, baby?” he laughs, “we were literally still fucking when you got together, and we never stopped.” and your boyfriend stupidly stands there, watching in a mixture of hurt but arousal. heeseung can’t help but cruelly make fun of him, releasing his hold on your neck to force you to look at your boyfriend, “look, your boyfriend enjoys seeing you get fucked by another man, probably ‘cause he k—knows he’ll never get you like this. not like i can. tell him i’m better than him. tell him he will never know your body like i do.” you’re already shaking your head, grinding your ass back against him when he slows down. “tell him you love me.”

fwb!heeseung who is so pleased and happy when you finally scream out through your sobs that “i-i love hee—heeseung! i love you, heeseung.” and he finally lets you come, helping you out with a hand on your clit and his other hand constricting your airway. but none of you expect the gush of clear liquid wetting your lower bodies and your bed. neither of you notice when your boyfriend finally gathers himself and leaves the room to take care of his own little problem— heeseung too preoccupied with slowly pulling out of you and taking care of you, like he always does, and you too preoccupied with heeseung and coming down from your intense orgasm.

fwb!heeseung who is no longer fwb!heeseung and is now bf!heeseung, but is every bit of the menace he was before. definitely still takes you in a quiet hall, in the bathroom of a stranger’s party, in the back of his car, in your bed, in his bed. still the same heeseung, just now your boyfriend, heeseung.

#heeseung.txt #enha.txt #writing.txt #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #heeseung #lee heeseung #kpop smut

[milo-is-rambling]

Thinking about how when my dad was in the hospital they were making a machine breathe for him and there was black junk and like weed resin coming out of his lungs and I made a joke about smoking it because my family can't handle death

#i feel bad for those nurses when I think about it but like looking back it's exactly how he would've wanted to go #me and mom going from crying to joking around #calling her a WILF (widow I'd like to fuck) while next to him in the hospital #I've repressed so much of the hospital experience cause actually thinking about it sucks but it's nice that even in my darkest times we #we're still laughing and cracking jokes through tears #I've been thinking a lot about my dad dying recently cause of the holidays and it sucks massive donkey balls #but like can't do shit about it baby that's life and it ends and it sucks but you move on and laugh and shit gets better #idk just weird to think about #grief is hard #but like it's fine #grief is also something that doesn't go away and there's no wrong way to do it #so like whoops if I make other ppl uncomfortable cause that's just how I deal with it #and I don't mean that as like a suck it up edgy thing but more like I tell myself to suck it up so often that if I can force myself to deal #with it by laughing than I'm gonna do that

[agoodomenssideblogiguess]

I dont think I'll ever be able to get over the "I work in Soho, I hear things," line Aziraphale says in 1967. Cuz like if you exam the scene background for more than a couple of seconds you realize how fucking ridiculous Crowley and Aziraphale are being.

Because, Crowley KNOWS where the bookshop is. Crowley was probably there when Aziraphale came up with the idea and when he chose the property and for sure was there for opening day. Crowley KNOWS it's still there in 1941, they go back at the end of the magic show for wine.

The fucking Dirty Donkey is established as being across the street from the bookshop with a perfect view to the inside during s2e4.

See how the crossed out windows the zombies are looking through are visible through the window over Crowley's shoulder. If Aziraphale were heating up the tea kettle on his little parlor stove, he might even be able to see the pub's entrance or any cars coming up the street.

And I doubt that the pub moved locations in or around 1967 only to be moved back by 2023 so we can safely assume that what's visible in 1941 is visible in 1967 during Crowley's meeting.

I went back to the 1967 bit in s1e3 to figure out where the fuck Crowley is parked and I'm pretty sure the ramp he speaks alone to Shadwell in front of is the same ramp that Marguerite's restaurant has.

And in s2e5, as Aziraphale leaves to invite all the shopkeepers to the 'meeting' we see Marguerite's sign through the windows to the right of the front door.

Which means Crowley's conversation with Shadwell is fucking visible from the front door of the bookshop.

And it also means those fucking strip tease signs that Crowley has parked the Bentley in front of are covering up the record shop and the window over Aziraphale's desk (Which I'll admit, unfortunately means that the ramp isn't visible through the window and might only be seen via the windows of the front door of the shop). Why are these windows covered up? Maybe the set designers wanted to give the illusion that they are on some different part of the street. UNFORTUNATELY I CAN FUCKING SEE THE BOOKSHOP PILLARS IN THE CORNER OF THE SCREEN YOU CANT FOOL ME.

Let's put it all together now: Crowley drives the Bentley, his ICONIC Bentley(no doubt who's fucking Bentley that is if you see it come down the street through the window), just past the bookshop, and parks. He has to get out on the bookshop side of the street and backtrack, PAST THE FUCKING BOOKSHOP DOOR, and to the pub that is in perfect view of one of the (only unblocked) bookshop windows, and has a conversation with a strange man in view of the bookshop's front door.

"I hear things" Aziraphale, baby girl, you didn't have to hear anything you can literally see Crowley at every moment.

And also Aziraphale, you're not off the hook for ridiculousness either. Why the fuck did you teleport into the Bentley. THE BOOKSHOP IS RIGHT THERE. You fucking depraved me of a full cravat outfit shot because you wanted to spookily and mysteriously appear to your beloved demon. YOU'RE KILLING ME AZIRAPHALE.

#good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #gos2 #for the most part you can just sort of rely on the audience's suspension of disbelief to make up for moments of necessary inconsistency #but i think its a lit funnier if we just decide that actually Aziraphale and Crowley are just THIS ridiculous

[girlbossblackbeard]

THOUGHTS AND LAYERS

i spent literally an hour analyzing this trailer at 0.5 speed. this post is long af and these thoughts are in no particular order and are poorly organized:

-there's a big storm (which I think was already confirmed), and ed gets swept overboard by a bucket on a rope:

he then crawls up out of the water onto the beach

then goes into the forest, creates a hut, has a journey of healing and self-discovery, meets hornigold (or his ghost??)

and kills him thus killing the part of himself that he hated the most (his violence) as a parallel to stede finally getting rid of nigel's ghost by accepting and believing in himself

-in the stede/ed split screen, the stede shot is from the first ep of s2 right after stede finds the marooned crew at the end of ep 10 in s1 (you can tell bc his hair and clothes are still clean, there's no gay bandana around his neck, and that's his lil dinghy buttons is rowing)

-they go to shore and wind up at the merchants shop where "susan" overhears they're tracking down blackbeard

and she invites stede's crew onto her ship, cue the outfit change in the BTS photos:

-the way stede makes that little swishy turn in the red coat -

makes me think this may be first time he's been in fine clothes since his "death" and i hope we get a moment of him reflecting on how he gave up everything for ed only to have him hate him :( but then obviously realizing that ed is worth it and he'd do it all again in a heartbeat if it meant getting a chance at spending the rest of his life with him

-izzy and stede team up, and izzy is clearly training either himself or stede on the revenge (?)

soooooo many questions: what caused him to leave ed and join stede's crew? is he fighting with ed and is training to take him out or is he just done having his love be unrequited so he leaves and just so happens to stumble into stede? is izzy thinking that if he can't cut out the longing he has for ed he has to kill him instead so the pain will go away? what, pray tell, the fuck is going on in here on this day

-wee john in the mermaid costume (and olu in a bunny or donkey costume?):

a fuckery? or just a weird acid trip? OR IS IT THE TALENT SHOW THEY NEVER GOT TO HAVE??

-ed really does force everyone on his crew to wear war paint

-all the tally marks scratched into the walls - is that the number of days since stede bonnet broke ed's heart?

-ed in the forest in PEARL NECKLACE HELLOW????????

-the tear in ed's eye as he moves the cake toppers closer together which he also painted to make the lady look more like him he literlaly is in love wiht stede so bad wht the FUCJ

-ed's crew is murdering SO MANY PEOPLE at the wedding wtf (pic not included bc scary)

-delusional moment but i hope anne bonny on stede's lap is looking at calico jack off screen

-stede and ed are running towards each other on the black sand beach (thank you @sluterastede for pointing this out to me wtf!!!!!!)

which evolves my theory that ed in the forest goes through his healing journey and realizes he wants to openly love stede again but then the navy attack and stede just so happens to have found ed at the same time and they're fighting to get to each other and taking out everyone in their way (what if that was okracoke lmao)

-the swede and spanish jackie hooking up in the trailer

makes me think the bts shot of ed and jackie is them looking at stede and the swede, and ed being SO in love with stede obvi but jackie is watching the swede do some weirdly hot shit so she's gotta have him (what if they got married and he became her umpteenth husband in a drunken vegas-like shotgun wedding where she wakes up the next day to realize what has happened lmao)

-also this pic is DEF from the reunited/make up era bc ed's half-up hair, no makeup, soft eyes, and buttons' clothing. i am weeping

-stede in pain - is it an injury or a tattoo? or torture as @sluterastede posits?? he looks down at his lower body before screaming so maybe he knows what's about to happen to him??

-ed in the forest wearing the pearl necklace (see above), ed saying "fuck you stede bonnet" wearing the pearl necklace (see below)

does he pick it up at the wedding??? (theory credit to @sluterastede!!!! can u tell we watched the trailer together 400 times) i can't tell if he's wearing it in the one wide shot of him in that scene:

but regardless of when he acquires it, does he take it bc he remembers stede said he wears fine things well???? and he starts to believe he may deserve them??

-side note about a LACK of something: ed isn't wearing the cravat at all in the trailer near as i can tell, and he's not wearing the pearl necklace when throwing knives at the wall (at least from what I can see, which is not much) which leads me to believe that scene is in the earlier part of the season

-lastly, the most important song lyrics from the trailer (the beautiful ones by prince):

and that's my dissertation on the ofmd season 2 teaser trailer thank you

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 predictions #ofmd s2 trailer

[popponn]

bits and such, about him.

summary: he loves you in his own way. (aka expanded hcs on how he shows his love to you)

note: i want an isagi so bad at this point i will just cry. also i miss sae. nagi is kinda there ig (jk nagi u shojo protag). sometimes thinking about these guys are very comforting even when it comes out as pure brainrot. warning: none, just fluff. isagi is downbad, sae is a house cat variant, and nagi is something else. reader's gender unspecified, implied post canon au.

characters: isagi, sae, nagi

isagi falls in love with you again and again over the smallest things. it could be you rearranging your things, it could be you looking up to the sky, it could be you crouching alongside him, it could be you laughing at something he finds actually unfunny—repeatedly, without fail it keeps happening. in these sorts of moments, it is very obvious too. his breath would come to a halt slowly, his shoulder sagged, his mouth opening into a silent gape, all while his blue eyes would stare at you, filled with feelings that are impossible to word out. his signs are obvious enough that even strangers could know them. the worst thing is that on times like this, it means isagi yoichi's infamously smart brain will go on a holiday for a bit. adding to the fact that his eyes rarely leave you whenever you are in his vicinity, this means it happens a lot in a public setting. after the third time of seeing this happening right in front of them, most of his friends sort of agree that it would be best to leave the lovesick, down-bad isagi alone. more for their sakes because all they get is either a dumb "huh" that is very cute actually or a very angry, on-field tone of "shut the fuck up fucking donkey i'm admiring right now" which unfortunately did happen to a genius, a speedster, and a king. it nearly ended in a bloodbath multiple times but at least you know he is a man that could not be moved.

sae likes it when you play with his hair and vice versa. the annoying thing, though, is that he rather doesn't say shit for three days than admitting this to your face. some call it an acute case of terrible communication skill some call it kuudere rizz—nobody knows which one is the correct term but the good thing is this guy speaks louder through his action than his words. which mean acting like a spoiled house cat with shitty attention seeking tendencies—where you could be working or resting your exhausted leg and without any warning, you will have his head on your lap. don't bother protesting, you will lose the inevitable staring contest. just play with his hair, comb it, pat it, arrange it while praising him—just spoil him. and if he says "your hair is wet" even right after you dry it off, just sit down and let him " dry" your hair. no, it's not an alibi to have you chatter while he listens and touches your hair. no, he does not kiss you on the hair you are imagining shit. and no don't let anyone touch your hair. sae's possessive streak is a rare thing but if anyone touches your hair, that's just asking for it. honestly, it will be easier for both of you if he just says "hey can we forego the hairdryer and have your head on my lap instead this time" but this is an itoshi bloodline elder. the best he could manage is just suddenly burying his face in your hair or suddenly touching it when he is not in the mood to play a game. again, like a cat just taking something he wants. the cat is handsome and loving in his own way though.

nagi turns out to be a very very vocal person when it comes to you. aw, he must be away for a week because of a match? good luck to everyone on his team because he will whine about it every minute or so. some wanted to murder him, but thank god, an "if you look cool don't you think they will be happy?" is enough to shut him up—on camera at least. and wow he thinks you look good in your clothes? you will know it. nagi will say "wear it again", " it suits you", and many other short sentences indeed—he is still not a wordsmith—but simply by the sheer frequency of his praise? everyone and their grandma will know it. one time a brave, poor soul asked him "why the fuck are you so noisy about them?!"—and turns out it is simply because he likes your reaction to his words. you could respond back with cheer, with a calm suave, or sometimes flustered laugh, and nagi eats those up. remember to have special reactions for him though, since he is not above copying a koala or maybe some flirty toucan to have those. nagi has been a tad bit shameless though, despite everything, therefore maybe it's not unsurprising that he kinda of becomes after getting together with you. (in the background, niko nods sagely, "i see. so it's like your oshi character who you want every info of from a dating sim." while barou snaps with a "fucking what?" nagi takes a second to think, and goes, "...kinda." which is obviously an understatement.)

#bllk scenarios #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk headcanons #bllk imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock #blue lock scenarios #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #blue lock headcanons #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #sae x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #nagi seishirou #isagi fluff #sae fluff #nagi fluff #i miss writing sae as some spoiled house pet like ass bf who is cute for all the wrong reasons #started with isagi and end it by going overboard at nagi's. sigh typical me #im SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING A FIC RN BUT yeah have this have this. is this a brainrot im not sure??? but it is what it is #but yeah lets go back to business

[tossawary]

In MDZS, Wei Wuxian is able to look at the sacrificial ritual circle and read Mo Xuanyu's personal notes to guess what happened and also learn the basics of Mo Xuanyu's entire life... And then he doesn't clean it up?

(EDIT: I was wrong about this! Wei Wuxian was supposedly "destroy any evidence of the sacrificial ritual circle" directly before running off with the donkey, at the very end of the chapter. I'm not sure how because earlier in the chapter it says that Mo Xuanyu's shack has "no water" and after humiliating the Mo Family, he just picks a clean spot on the floor to sleep, but he manages somehow! Original post remains below the cut.)

To be fair, Wei Wuxian is shocked and feels like shit, and has apparently tasked with murders he doesn't want to commit, and is also a little bit hangry. Shortly after his first foray to get his bearings and embarrassing the Mo Family, he gets dragged out of that blood-stained shack, accused of murder, involved in a fight, and then has to skedaddle when Hanguang-Jun shows up. He didn't have much inclination to clean (he didn't make the blood circle! Why does he have to clean it?!) and then didn't get much opportunity to grab a mop and clean up that mess to cover his tracks.

But Wei Wuxian's narration says that Mo Xuanyu "dared to summon him by name". It's also possible that some of Mo Xuanyu's resentful scribbles included more information about the sacrificial ritual and Wei Wuxian didn't find them, or threw his hands up in the air with frustration at the situation before reading those ones.

And I think that this would be a really funny way for Lan Wangji to find out that Wei Wuxian is back, instead of the shitty flute-playing and Wen Ning's appearance. Lan Sizhui describes to Lan Wangji everything weird and terrifying that just went down with the Mo Family, then says, "Oh! Senior Mo has disappeared! We should go make sure that he's okay! (Jingyi, he helped us in his own way, it's only the decent thing to do to check on him.) Let me ask a servant where his quarters are and let's hope he just went to go hide there."

And then Lan Wangji and a bunch of Baby Lans walk right into that shack and the horrifying scene of a sacrificial ritual circle drawn in blood, surrounded by the scribblings of a madman, which apparently clearly says (to those who can discern these things): "I AM SUMMONING THE YILING PATRIARCH'S SOUL AND GIVING HIM MY BODY TO DO EVIL ON MY BEHALF."

Lan Wangji: "..."

Lan Sizhui: "..."

Lan Jingyi: "What the fuck."

#tossawary mdzs #wei wuxian #mo xuanyu #character death #violence #blood #suicide #lan wangji #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #fic ideas #I guess in canon some poor servant had to mop that up with no idea what it was; it was too late to call the Lans back

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It turns out that befriending a dragon is not as terrible or difficult as you would have thought. But people, unsurprisingly, will always still be awful.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

The first week of your internment flew by shockingly fast.

Maybe because you were always at War—a perpetual cycle of making some demand or other (that usually centered around a desire for the barest levels of personal space or agency) only to be met persistently with the ancient, all-powerful, dragon equivolent of >:(

The clothes and toilet situation were already a lost cause. You knew this.

But there were so many other little things. And big things too, sure. But you can never fully realize how much you’re truly under someone’s thumb until you want to head off to do something utterly insignificant and cannot.

For example, your first morning in captivity you’d tried to boil a pot of water. It was nothing fancy, just a small kettle kit you kept in your travel bags for making warm drinks and reheating rations into something vaguely edible. You’d collected some bits of wood from the heaps of debris lying all over the place and gone about lighting a fire. You’d only just barely managed to get the little sticks smoking when a horrific screech sounded from overhead.

And then, WHUMP!

The spiked end of a black tail came crashing down, obliterating your little fire and sending bits of wood flying in all directions.

“What the fuck, man!”

Tsunotarou curled around you to hiss at the flattened sparks like some unholy snake.

“It’s just for my tea! My tea!” you howled. “I wasn’t going to burn your stupid house down!”

He’s shifted into his human form again not long after, and he looked down his nose at you like a fussy parent—arms crossed petulantly across his pale chest.

“Fire is dangerous for humans,” he snuffed, absolutely indignant. “If you find yourself requiring flames for anything at all, call for me and I will lend you some of mine.”

“I would have been fine,” you beseeched, looking at the shattered remains of your little campfire with a grumpy pout.

“Lilia says humans often overestimate their own constitutions,” Tsunotarou grouched, expression dour and stony. You were about to ask just who or what on Earth this ‘Lilia’ was supposed to be, when the dragon dipped his head in close to yours and nuzzled along your throat. You could feel the pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin over your pulse. “Which is why so many of your kind are massacred for their own foolishness. Or fall victim to plague and famine. Or wind up being burned alive. I would prefer that you not succumb to such a fate.”

You gulped, and that had been the end of that conversation.

Another time you’d tried to scale the banister to reach the bathroom on your own. It had been going pretty well, all things considered. There were plenty of nice footholds and it all had sort of settled at a slope, meaning you weren’t really climbing a wall so much as very slowly crawling up an incline like a determined slug.

You’d nearly made it to the top when you were scooped up by the back of your collar and promptly deposited at the other end of the room.

Of all the languages you half-spoke, Dragon was not one of them. But the snarling and snapping in your face certainly seemed like the rather universal ‘what do you think you’re doing?!’

“I was just trying to go the bathroom!” you argued. “No fires or anything!”

Tsunotarou’s large maw ducked down to growl into your much smaller one. He let out a series of exasperated clicks and chatter, the sharper or which were punctuated by sprays of green sparks from behind his teeth. His nostrils flared and the blast of dry heat that followed sent your head spinning and your hair gusting out behind you.

“I wasn’t going to fall,” you finally said, because you had a feeling that’s what you were being lectured about at the moment.

The rumbling growl that followed sounded like it had traveled all the way from the dark trenches of his bowels, or maybe even the very marrow of his bones. You could feel the ground vibrating under your feet.

“Fine,” you conceded. You weren’t exactly worried he was going to eat you anymore, but there were certainly… other things. Many dumb ways to die. “I won’t do it again.”

He harumphed at you, his head bobbing in what looked a bit like a nod. And then he turned and raked a gigantic claw across your little makeshift ladder of debris, flattening it into nothing with one, fell, swoop. You’d groaned and let yourself collapse listlessly back into the ensuing cloud dust.

There was also the time you’d nearly had a conniption because you were sick and tired of camping out on a frigid, stone, floor every night when you were trapped inside a literal castle.

“There are dozens—hundreds—of rooms in here,” you’d argued. “There’s got to be a bed in at least one of them.”

Tsunotarou had simply rolled over onto his side and arched a wing into the air, as if offering you the warm hollow beneath.

“You’re not comfortable,” you’d hissed, and he’d sulked ridiculously for the rest of the afternoon until you’d managed to finally come to a workable solution.

As in, dragging every goddamn mattress you could find into the cavernous ballroom that he’d long since seemed to claim as his Favorite Spot. You’d turned it into a game—see who could find the most comfy things and make the biggest squish pile. Being nearly a dozen times your size and having twice as many functional limbs that were capable of grabbing things, naturally Tsunotarou had come out as the winner. But now you had nearly endless pillows and blankets to snuggle into at night, so who’d really come out on top?

“I’ve never bothered to build a nest before,” he’d mumbled to himself, post victory. He patted gently at one of the thick duvets he’d swiped, expression almost whimsical. “It’s quite nice.”

“See,” you’d grinned, bouncing up and down on one of the springier mattresses. “I told you this was better.”

And so chuffed were you that you weren’t heading to sleep with a rock as your pillow for the first time all week, that you didn’t even complain when late into the evening he sneakily dragged you out of your plush pile and into his—tail wrapped snuggly around your waist and tucking you tightly against his ribs. I mean, his nest was much nicer than yours. It was only practical.

So, as anyone could see, your week had been far from easy.

But after those first days, once you had finally gotten a hand on all his nonsensical rules and you’d in turn concocted equally as many ways to try and circumvent them just enough to make yourself comfortable, things settled into a kind of domestic tranquility.  

And that was when time started to drag.

You’d read the handful of books in your pack a dozen times over. You’d counted the cracks in the ceiling (one-hundred-and-thirty-two of them). You’d counted the stones on the floor (six-hundred-and-five). You’d sorted those stones into piles by shape, size, color. You lolled back against your cozy pile of blankets and thunked your head miserably against your pillow. Once. Twice. Three times. Four—

“What do you normally do all day?” you complained.

Tsunotarou lazily blinked awake. He lifted his giant, serpentine, head and glanced pointedly around the cavernous room before settling back into his mountain of blankets with a contented huff.

“You just sleep?” you frowned, baffled. “All the time?”

He rumbled unintelligibly at you for a moment before digging his claws into his nest with a long, lithe, stretch. And then those scales began to melt away, and soon enough he was pale, and bare, and rolling his way into your lap with a contented little grumble.

“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, voice thick with the syrupy warmth of sleep. He stretched again, like a big cat, and settled his head more firmly against your thighs. “Raid cities? Burn villages?”

“…Ideally no,” you grumbled, hands falling habitually to start running your fingers through the silky soft hair pooling along your abdomen. “I mean, there have got to be other things dragons do. You live for thousands of years.”

He hummed, neon eyes slipping closed. He pressed his forehead demandingly up into your palm and you rolled your eyes before obligingly sliding your digits lower to scratch at his scalp and around the base of his horns. That seemed to be his favorite.  

“I am not wanted much of anywhere, I’m afraid,” he said finally with a defeated little sigh. It didn’t sound particularly self-deprecating, just… accepting. It made something sad and small curl in your gut. “So what else is there for me to do? Other than while away the hours.”

“There’s got to be something,” you pressed, that eking irritation born from boredom melting into something that was a bit too close to genuine concern for your liking. “Don’t dragons keep hoards? Treasures? That’s a thing, right?”

“Oh.” He blinked himself back into focus, as if only remembering in just that moment. “That is true. Would you like to see mine, then?”

“Aren’t hoards, like, private?” you asked, hesitant. Trying not to bring up the glaring elephant in the room that was ‘Hey. Yeah. So my friends and I totally broke in here in the first place to steal from said hoard. Not that we knew there was a dragon here. But like. I did, in fact, come here as an adventurer and a thief.’

“Naturally,” Tsunotarou hummed. You could feel it vibrate all the way up your hip. His lips quirked into a little, crooked, smile. “I’ll take you there now.”

The Treasure Room was as elaborate and expensive looking as the name implied, and it seemed to be the one area of the castle that had been spared the grey desolation that had seeped through the rest of it. It was enormous—certainly larger than even the grand, cavernous, room in which you’d recently been residing. And it was lined wall to ceiling with every variant of wealth you could imagine—precious metals, ancients tomes, paintings from every great master through history, magical weapons, the finest of spell scrolls. You could probably buy the world at least twice over with its contents.

But the thing that caught your eye amidst the endless sea of gold was not a pretty gemstone or a treasure of old, but a little, black and purple, doll—perched atop a looming pedestal of silks and finery like a crown jewel. It was small and plain with curling black horns made of felt. A chubby little dragon miniature that was as ugly as it was round.

Tsunotarou noticed your inquisitive gaze and walked over to pluck the little, cotton, creature from its throne. He held it delicately in his clawed fingers.

“Ah, yes. This is Drago. Lilia gifted him to me after one of his jaunts through the human world.” He turned the doll over in his palms, brow tugging down a bit as he did. “I hope he hasn’t been too terribly lonely. It has been a while since I’ve come down here to visit.”

The great and powerful dragon of the Castle Within The Lava Lake keeping a toy keepsake amongst his most prized possessions was so strikingly adorable that you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the sight.

You brightened and turned on your heel to start making your way back to the ballroom and what remained of your adventuring gear. Tsunotarou made a noise under his breath that was too dignified to be a splutter, but what you assumed was more or less his refined equivolent. And then he was tagging at your heels with a perplexed look on his face.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something!” you chirped, mentally running through the contents of your bag and little sewing kits. Yes, there should be more than plenty to—

“To get what?” Tsunotarou pouted, and you realized belatedly that running off in the middle of him showing off his life’s accumulation of precious artifacts and accomplishments was perhaps a bit rude.

“It’s a surprise,” you said. “Just give me like half an hour to put it together.”

In the end, it really only took you around fifteen minutes of fussing. Drago was hardly a complex little thing, and you’d originally learned to stitch in a panic. Trying to mend holes in pants and leather was a lot harder to accomplish when you were being actively chased by bandits, or a raging Ace. In comparison, sitting merrily on the floor of a collapsed ballroom and shoving stuffing into a little ball of cloth was hardly a challenge.

You held out your creation—equally as ragtag and ridiculous looking as its inspiration.

“There,” you beamed, and pressed it into Tsunotarou’s hands. “Now he has a friend.”

A teeny, flesh-colored, blob. With strips of soft fabric for a cloak and a hastily stitched smile. A miniature bard, perfectly (?) encapsulated in his palm.

The dragon stared down at your offering with wide, green, eyes. He looked positively startled—so caught off guard that he didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone the bewildered expression flitting across his otherwise regal face.

“You said he might be lonely,” you hummed, rocking self-consciously back and forth on your heels.

“Oh,” Tsunotarou mumbled, black-tipped claws flexing around his new gift. He observed it carefully, like an aging academic might study some ancient, arcane, relic. There was still that strange look about him—like he couldn’t quite believe the little trinket in his hand was real. “I did, didn’t I...?”

When he remained silent after that, still staring down at your homemade abomination in awe? Horror? you couldn’t tell, you began fidgeting in earnest.

“It is kind of awful looking,” you rattled off, picking nervously at the hem of your cloak. “You can get rid of it if you want—”

“No,” he barked, and then paused, clearly surprised at the ferocity of what had come out of his mouth. That at least seemed to startle him out of whatever fog had settled over his brain, and he clutched the teeny toy firmly to his chest. He cleared his throat and started again, noticeably gentling himself. “No. I think I’d like to keep this.”

You smiled. “Good! I’m glad you like it! No one deserves to feel lonely—even little, toy, dragons.”

Tsunotarou’s lips curled into an awkwardly lopsided smile—like the muscles there weren’t used to tugging so wide. It lit the entirety of his expression with something so heart wrenchingly warm that you couldn’t help but feel like none of that had really been about the little doll at all.

.

.

You really should have known better.

If someone as illiterate and ill connected as your wandering gang of idiots could stumble upon the location of a ‘secret castle overburdened with ancient treasures,’ surely anyone even marginally more competent would be able to do the same.

You’d been at the tail end of your supply of rations. And while you hadn’t entirely meant to imply that you might just wind-up starving to death, the comment had been more than enough to send your dragon into a tizzy.

“Well, what do you normally eat?” you asked, and Tsunotarou frowned as he considered.

“My guards bring me sustenance when I require it. Ice elementals, goblins, stone giants,” he listed, eyes tracking your expression in hopes that maybe any of that sounded appetizing. Which it certainly did not. His nose scrunched up in thought. “Perhaps I should seek counsel with Lilia. He would know what to do.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, I know what humans can eat. I could just tell you.”

His face brightened. “Meat, yes?”

You nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Like that of a manticore?” he continued, excited at the prospect. “Those are particularly delicious. And there are quite a few nesting in the crags not far from here.”

His merry smile slowly slipped off his face at whatever pinched look had twisted up yours.

“Vegetation?” he tried. “There are ample bushes at the foot of the volcano. Most do have thorns, but I suppose you could pick around them.”

“…Maybe you should talk to Lilia,” you conceded.

So Tsunotarou had shifted into his scales with a promise to return post-haste and many fussy reminders that you should move as little as possible to avoid wasting any more precious nutrients. The great downbeats of his wings seemed to roll through the entire castle like a shudder, and then you were alone for the first time in nearly a fortnight.  

You lazed around in the echoing quiet, drumming bits of random tempos against your stomach and occasionally humming snatches of obnoxiously raunchy tavern tunes that you’d never really managed to bleach from your brain. How had Tsunotarou done this for decades? It’d barely been ten minutes and you were already bored out of your mind.

There was a flash of shadow near the grand entrance, and you sat up enthusiastically—ready to greet your returning host. But it wasn’t a dragon at the door.

“Who the hell are y—” the words died in your throat, and you spat a muted curse. The Silence Spell settled over your shoulders like a grungy cloak. You could feel its sticky film along the back of your tongue like a fine layer of moss.

“Who the fuck is that?” one of them hissed, and you fought the petulant ‘that’s just what I’d been about to ask you, jack ass!’ that wouldn’t have made it past your lips anyways.

There were six in total—a proper party from the looks of their ensembles. At least two people in full plate armor, a waify looking elf with a thick spell book in his hands, and three others in various getups that weren’t quite cookie cutter enough to tell you anything helpful. You rambled at them irritably, silently, gesturing rather impolitely all the while. You mimed teeth, and claws, and wings, and stomped around like a beast in a play.

‘There is a dragon here,’ you tried to say. Because maybe they were just unlucky adventurers like you and Tweedle Dee and Dum had been—not having any real idea what lay beyond these castle walls. You mimed a giant mouth, like a crocodile. ‘And he will eat you.’

“What the fuck?” Armored Dude gaped.

You pointed irritably at Mister Elf Wizard, who was still very obviously concentrating on keeping you encircled in a mesh of absolute silence.

The itchy sensation clogging your throat eased and you let out a breath, which echoed loudly in your ears. Elf-Guy looked at you with something that was perhaps a shade or two off of sympathy.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to leave,” you replied instead, firm. “There’s a dragon that lives in this castle.”

“Of course there’s a dragon,” Armored Lady scoffed. “Why do you think we’re here?”

You looked at their heavy, expensive, armor. At the giant, shining, magical, weapons hanging across their backs. At the thin wizard who proceeded catch you in a Hold Person spell that was so fast and strong you couldn’t have dispelled it if you tried. And of course you tried. What else could you do? These people weren’t like you and your loveable idiots who managed to occasionally stumble their way into an adventure. These guys were the real deal. Warriors. Heroes. Dragon Slayers.

“God-fucking-damn it.”

But of course you’d been caught in Silence once again, so you were left cursing nothing.

.

.

.

[TAG LIST] CLOSED

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Twst Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 3

[cheonstapes]

toji fushiguro stars in... 'PEACH GUMMY CANDY' ☆ ～('▽^人)

a/n ~ i was literally just eating these japanese peach gummies and i felt a sudden surge of inspiration, and i love toji so it was a match made in my tummy. this is a lil self indulgent cause i'm addicted to peaches and just needed an outlet to express that ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

summary; toji never liked peaches. well, not until he met you.

wc; 400+

pairings; toji fushiguro x fem!reader

cw; SMUT!! toji being a hater, reader loving peaches, oral, dom!toji, sub!reader, fingering, squirtin, established relationship, he really loves you, peaches, peaches, peaches, peaches, 🍑, nawt proofread - just peaches

saying you liked peaches was an understatement. 

peach soap, peach perfume, peach shampoo, peach themed makeup, peach flavoured lip gloss, literal peaches. it was kinda overwhelming. toji hated peaches. he’s never had a sweet tooth, being the greek god he is - he refused to eat anything he deemed ‘too sweet’, and peaches were the highest on that list.

it irked you at first. the petty sneer that he’d pull whenever he sensed anything remotely peach related around him, he just couldn’t understand how you were so obsessed with the stupid fruits. but of course, toji could never resist spoiling his sweet baby. soon, you started seeing peachy little gifts all around the apartment.

the fridge stocked with peach tea, a basket of fresh peaches in the kitchen, cute peach slippers by your bed. you thought he had officially lost it. you weren’t complaining though, after seeing how happy you got with each gift they seemingly doubled in amount. 

he would never say it out loud, but toji was starting to like peaches. 

especially after he got a taste of your sweet cunt. he didn’t think it was possible but the sheer amount of peaches you consume made you taste even better than you already did. head between your thighs, stubble tickles your skin as he sucks on your clit - two rough fingers scissoring your tight hole. a fat glob of his spit trickles down your entrance, pooling under your ass as his tongue massages your insides.

“t-toji- fuuhck!”

he doesn’t respond. too focus on tasting as much of you as he could, shaking his head side to side as he makes out with your pretty pussy. his large hands grip your thighs open, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the skin, too gentle compared to the way he eats you out like a mad man. he can feel the way your legs quiver, cunt clenching rapidly on his tongue - your stomach tightening so good, locking eyes with your boyfriend as he looks up at you with smoky eyes from behind your mound.

he couldn’t stop, not even after you squirted that sweet juice all in his awaiting mouth, not after you begged so sweetly for him to slow down - hands weakly pushing his head away from your aching pussy. “move yer fuckin’ hands, baby. ‘s not my fault ya cunt’s all sweet, now let daddy enjoy his pretty girl’s pussy.” 

toji didn’t like peaches. but if peaches taste like your pussy? well, he fucking loves them.

-This one is for my one and only true love Princess Peach

Peach, you're so cool And with my star, we're gonna rule Peach, understand I'm gonna love you 'til the very end

Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches I love you, oh Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches I love you, oh

Mario, Luigi, and a Donkey Kong too A thousand troops of Koopas couldn't keep me from you Princess Peach, at the end of the line I'll make you mine, oh

Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches, Peaches I love you, oh

Peaches, Peaches, Peach, Peach

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji thirst #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x black reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro smut #cheonstapes films!🪷 #cheonstapes

[kingconia]

Can we please please please PLEASE get a Vice Warden version of the "Reader is the characters favorite celebrity"

(obvi, Ortho is a child so if you add him make it platonic. But if you take him out maybe you can add Floyd instead! Plus RUGGIE CUZ HES THE UNOFFICIAL VICE )

Take your time and have fun with the request! If you end up not doing it, now worries lol!

A/N: I actually planned to do that for a while. Thank you for reminding me.

HOW TWISTED WONDERLANDS' VICE-HOUSEWARDENS ACT WHEN YOU ARE THEIR FAVOURITE CELEBRITY

Trey Clover. ❤️

— You are his favourite chef, of course. Who would've guess, right?

— You are a quite popular one, a former student of the Royal Academy, and very controversial figure in the media world, because... Well, you are quite talented, yes, but your attitude is just... Awful;

— Trey doesn't see anything that bad in your character, though! You might appear rude to adults, but he just loves how gentle you are with kids! Gordon Ramsay kinnie, you see;

— He is so. So. Happy, when Riddle accidentally asks you to be a chef for his birthday. A very lucky accident.

•

”Did I make that right?” Ace asks nervously, glancing at the bowl in his hand.

An event that Riddle Rosehearts plans is huge. Thousands of quests from all houses, completely different kitchens for each of them... So, of course, when students of Heartslabyul suggested to help you, you were happy.

Until you realised that they are chronical idiots.

You feel your blood boil, hands curling in fists.

Just how in the world this boy managed to mash raw carrot in fucking puree, when you asked him to cut it merely?! How?!

”You stupid donkey!” A yell that escapes your lips makes another two students, Deuce and Cater, shiver in fear. ”Get off!”

Ace instantly puts bowl on the table, taking a step back.

”M-me?”

”All of you!” You hiss, glaring at three of them. ”Out of this kitchen, idiots. And never, ever, come back here again!”

They shrink, running away instantly. You sigh in relief, but then, catch another figure, a taller one, moving after them.

Trey Clover.

”Hey,” you call for him, calmer this time. ”Where do you think you are going?”

Trey glances at you, completely surprised.

”Y/n-sama told everyone to leave,” he bows his head respectfully.

”Only to idiots,” you huff. ”You can stay, Trey.”

You actually noticed that out all of them, he worked more effectively. He knows how to cook, clearly, and he does so quickly and wordlessly. So, if anyone's help would be truly useful, it is his.

”...That would be a big honour for me, Y/n-sama.”

You smirk.

”Yeah, yeah. Come on. Let's finish here.”

Ruggie Bucchi. 💛

— You are his favourite true-crime blogger, lol. He watches your videos as he eats, and it annoys everyone, which also sometimes leaves him more food;

— You are actually not worldwide popular. You are just a student from NRC, from the Ignihyde, and sometimes, he catches your figure lurking around;

— Ruggie supports you from his side account, leaving a lot of comments, and likes, making other Savanaclaw watch videos, too. There is nothing more soothing that listening a gentle voice explaining how someone's body was dismembered, after all!

— Once, you decide to start a special event week: a true crimes connected to each house of the NRC. And Ruggie is especially exited for Savanaclaw video, only to find out that...

•

”Ah, you are Ruggie, correct?”

Ruggie flinches.

He recognises this voice from everywhere.

When he turns to the sound of the voice, he founds you, his favourite person in the world, standing in front of him. You look shy, as if it is not you, who constantly speaks of murders so eagerly.

”Y-yeah, hello, Y/n.”

...Shit, he shouldn't know your name.

”Hi!” You wave your hand. ”I am so sorry to bother you, but, I am busy with a project right now... It is connected with crimes in different locations that representing houses here. And, I spoke with Leona-sama this morning...”

Wow, you really caught Leona Kingscholar in the early morning? Awake? It is another proof for Ruggie's PowerPoint presentation about how cool and perfect you are!

”...But he told me that if anyone is better informed about crimes in Savanna, it is you, since, well, your class differences... I am so sorry, did it sound rude?”

Ruggie had never been happier to be poor.

”You came to the right person,” he exclaims with the coolest expression he has in his arsenal. ”Don't worry, Y/n. I will be your guide in the most darkest parts of the Afterglow Savanaclaw.”

You beam. He tries look collected, but fails.

”Ah, Ruggie, you are the best!”

It is going to be the best week in his life!

Leona-sama:

Brat

Firstly, she is fucking scary

Secondly you owe me for this one

Jade Leech. 🩵

— You are his favourite photographer. At first, you only share your works at art exhibitions, but recently you created a page in the Magicam, to have more connection with your followers;

— Jade is amazed by the way you see this world. How gracefully you present the nature, how gently you portrait people, and how skillfully you froze time! Ah, you are amazing!

— Jade always tries to see more of the world that was closed to him before, and your works are a great help for him;

— ...He is absolutely stunned, when Azul tells him that payed you to come to the opening of the renewed Monster Lounge as the photographer, though.

•

Jade is... Slightly frustrated.

To think, that Azul had an opportunity to employ a walking talent for a few hours, and he used this chance to take photos of the Lounge... Impossible!

He sighs.

He respects Azul, of course, but sometimes he is such a baby.

”Good evening,” Jade greets you with a polite smile on his face, hoping to conceal his genuine amazement. ”How is here to your liking?”

You are straightening your back, stopping taking pictures of the main hall. As you turn to Jade, your eyes lit up curiously.

”You must be... Jade, correct?”

You know his name.

”Indeed, I am,” he nods.

”Thank you, it is fine,” you shift from one foot to another, and he can say there is something you want to do. ”Ah, excuse me, but... Can I ask you something?”

Jade nods again, tilting his head on the left. What with your great mind came up this time?

”...Am I allowed to take a few photos of you?”

Now, it is his turn to be surprised.

If anything, Jade has never been an interesting subject for others' eyes. But here you are, his favourite person in the world, wishing to take his photos—

”Are you sure?” As you nod vigorously, he can't help but laugh shortly. ”Then, of course. Do as you please.”

But if you see it in him, something charming and breathtaking, then there are must be he something. Because you are never wrong.

...And when on the next morning, Azul asks him to explain why the fuck there is Jade's photos instead of Monster Lounge's, as they had an agreement with you, he shrugs.

’You asked me to show others the beauty of your Lounge,’ you write Azul later, absolutely unremorseful. ’And I did.’

Oh, you can't even understand how happy you made a certain someone!

Floyd Leech. 🩵

— Do you know those accounts of tarot and astrology readers, who constantly goes live to speak with audience and made them an online reading? Yes, Floyd adores you for this;

— I feel that he sincerely curious about all this stuff, and though, at first, it was only an aesthetic interest as he found you pretty, now, he is too deep in this to pull out;

— He listens to your everyday advice videos religiously, and I am not even kidding. He trusts you too much, and at some point Jade starts worrying about him;

— Floyd is absolutely reckless and shameless, so, of course, he decides to make a first move unexpectedly and openly.

•

”Since it is a Lover's day, I might as well today be more focused on romantic readings,” you warn, shuffling cards in your hands, eyes fixated on the chat. ”So, write first name of yours, and, your lover's, and both of your ages. Will see how it goes.”

Tarot cards have been a huge part of your life since you were a kid, watching your mom and aunt doing that, whispering quietly. It was only natural that eventually you became an esoteric, too.

It is not your work or main to-do thing, more like a hobby, and an instrument to help others. And most of the time, you are doing it for free. Unless, someone wants to pay you, of course.

”Hm, who is here...”

You see a familiar username.

Floyd Leech is a quite constant fan of yours, always liking your videos, commenting them ridiculously, and asking questions about this and that. So, you decide to start with him. Just ouf of respect.

”Floyd, seventeen and... Y/n, whatever your age is,” you read out aloud.

As you understand what that meant, your cheeks flush instantly. You almost drop your tarot on the floor.

Is he trying to hit on you?! Just like that?!

”I... Uhm...”

What should you do? You spoke with him a few times, yes, and it has been more or less fine? Yet... Urgh.

You take a random card from the bottom of it.

Lovers.

Shit.

”You have some good chances here, Floyd” you finally manage to say that aloud, looking away from camera. ”Just be more forward. And private.”

There is no answer—or it gets lost in many new comments—and you distract yourself with other followers. Until a notification appears on the top of your phone.

Floyd_Leech:

hi :)

You almost groan.

What an impossible man?!

Jamil Viper. 🧡

— Might be not entirely accurate, but you are his favourite book critic! I feel, like whenever Jamil has some time to himself, he reads, and if he doesn't, he listens to all these podcasts or three hours long videos about why a certain book good or bad;

— He finds you accidentally, and since then obsessively checks out your every video, even the oldest ones. Puts notifications on. Follows on other social media. Loves your content;

— He is definitely a more quiet supporter. He likes your videos, but never comments them. So, there is no direct contact between two of you;

— At least, until he bumps into you by accident. In Scalding Sands. On the summer holidays. How insane is that?

•

Jamil knows that you travel a lot, he has seen your highlights in Magicam, but how could he expect to meet you in the bazar of all places?! This place is noisy, awful and there is nothing beautiful or picturesque! What would you do here? And with a book in your hands, too.

”The sands of Love,” title says.

It sounds ridiculous already.

”Shit,” you hiss, rubbing his shoulder with your free hand. ”I am sorry.”

”Please, be careful,” he murmurs quietly, trying to act normal as if he doesn't update your channel every morning and night in the search of new content.

Anyway, Jamil is slightly freaking out. Just a little.

”I am trying, but this book is so awful, I want to die,” he chuckles fondly, a familiarity of your words that you say so often from the screen on his phone, softening him. ”You know, I bought this goddamn book, and the setting of it is here, like, in Scalding Sands. So, I came here to check some details. Like traditions, and, and stuff. And you know, it is all a fucking bullshit—”

So, you made your way to here just to... Criticise an obviously bad book with even more reasoning?

God, he loves you.

”...And, and...” You stutted. Blushing suddenly, you sigh. ”I am so sorry. I shouldn't be dumping that on you.”

Jamil tries his best to offer you a rare smile of his.

”Oh, but I am interested now. Would you mind continue telling me about this book?” He can't help but notice how cutely your eyes lit up. ”But not here, obviously. Please, let's go. I will find a quieter place for you.”

...Seems, like all his luck was saved just for this moment to happen, because you actually follow him, continuing your blabbering.

What a beautiful day it is.

Rook Hunt. 💜

— You are his favourite opera singer! When Rook sees you for the first time, he is in awe. Your beauty, your voice — it is everything. He knows, just from the first sight, that he will be a Phantom of Opera for your Christine;

— He buys the best, and I must stay, the most expensive places for your opera, but keeps himself hidden away for a while. Doesn't need to be seen, he is in his studying sessions;

— Rook is not pleased if you are not a leading singer. He will make everything for this fact to change in future. Would giggle if overhears you saying how lucky you are... If you want him to be your luck, then so be it;

— When Rook is sure that his work more or less done, and he is ready, he will finally meet with you personally.

•

”It is a shame I never noticed you before,” you shake your head, cheeks darkened from the amount of complements you had heard in past ten minutes. ”And you've been here for me from my debut? I am so flattered...”

A boy in front of you smiles eagerly, pressing another warm kiss on the back of your hand.

”Ah, mon inspiration, it is me who is blessed and grateful for being able to witness something so beautiful and generous... The rise of the angel of Opera, indeed!”

His eyes are shining with a pure awe. You almost squirm, when Rook falls on his knees, cheek pressing to your well-kissed hand. You are fighting a wish to caress his cheek just as you do with your cat at home.

”If Gods ever existed, at least one of them, it must be you, their last creation, a gift for dying civilisation!”

”Ah, Rook,” you giggle, getting more and more shy with each second. ”Please... Maybe, you want to... See with me later? Beyond these walls? I mean... Don't get me wrong, of course, it is just...”

It might be a risky movement, you know. Yet, you can't help but feel attracted to the person, who stares at you as if you are the Creator yourself.

”I would be more than glad, mon ange,” his voice becomes quieter, yet, a little more nervous. ”I love that one café in front of this opera, if you care to know. I often order there their special drink... The fall of the Devil, isn't it?”

You blink in surprise.

”That is my favourite, too!” You exclaim enthusiastically.

”Really?” Somehow, he doesn't really look surprised. ”Well, then, after getting drinks, we, perhaps, could see the Art Gallery... Had you ever seen a whole room dedicated to the minerals from different countries? It is my favourite one.”

Your chest warms.

”Mine too!”

You hope it doesn't look like you try to impress him by mirroring his answers, but it is really this way.

Seems, like Rook just knows everything you love!

”I feel like we are a perfect match, mon destin.”

And, somehow, you can't disagree.

Lilia Vanrouge. 💚

— This man is hard to impress... But, you are his favourite... Psychologist. Alright, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I think, considering the fact that he was the general for a long time, never caring about human emotions before, and then suddenly adopted three idiots, and that with having his own trauma, he takes a great interest in the psychology;

— So, when he accidentally finds your account, where you speak of different problems, navigate people through theirs, and merely discussing different situations in the world from the point of psychology, he dives in;

— I don't think that Lilia goes on appointment, though. I think, he masters psychology through your channel, instead. He is such a self-taught and crazy-ass talented person;

— When you are invited to work as a school psychologist in the NRC, since Crowley realised that overbolts might or might not be because of lacking a one, Lilia is actually really excited. And he doesn't hide it!

•

”Seeing how mature you are, how healthy you analyse all these situations with overbolted students,” you make a small sip of tea, smirking shortly, ”I can't help but feel slightly proud of myself.”

Lilia laughs quietly, extending you more chocolate muffins that he obtained from the cafeteria just for you.

Since from the first day, two of you became a great friends. And, though, of course, it is you who should take care of him—since he is a student as well—Lilia yet can't help but worry about how much you work, skipping meals constantly, because, apparently, everyone wants your help.

”You are great at what you are doing, Y/n-sama,” he smiles mischievously.

Though both of you are quite old, centuries of life long ago left behind, there is a certain childishness inside of you, that you prefer to call a healthy life enjoyment. A term that Lilia now uses every time when someone tries to lecture him about being too immature.

”Thank you, thank you, Lilia-kun,” you bow your head jokingly. ”But, seriously, I need a proper schedule with all of these kids. But they just can't stop coming... I don't know what is so traumatising about this school, honestly. It is about lessons?”

Lilia laughs.

”Maybe. I mean, my genuine wish to start a massacre returns sometimes, when headmaster comes on our lessons...”

You smack him slightly, chuckling softly.

”I see, now. Honestly, after meetings with him, I too, search for the professional help...”

As both of you laugh, Lilia watches you relaxing eventually.

Ah, who would've thought that a person who helped him unconsciously once, would eventually became his friend?.. What a crazy world he lives in!

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #trey clover #trey clover x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucci x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader

[kokushibouthings]

Their reactions to you having the most foul, and horrendous laugh ever

---------------------------------------------------------

Content: SFW/Funny, fluff maybe?, Uppermoons n muzan, Gender Neutral reader

Pairing/s: Character I mentioned above x Reader

Authors note: Got this idea from @weskerspersonalcunt (very interesting user🤔) also idk if I should cringe or laugh from this I have mixed emotions with what I write

---------------------------------------------------------

As you two were having a peaceful conversation... Kind of.

He offered to drink tea with you outside at some random place when it turned night. It had a pretty beautiful scenery.

It was pretty awkward, till you tried to crack a joke but happened to end up be the one laughing at it instead..

As you were basically wheezing, it started to sound like you were a dying donkey hyperventilating

"BWAAAHHAAHAHAAHAHHA, AHHH... EEEEAAAAAAEEEEHH" He stared at you, his mouth slightly agape in absolute shock followed with confusion as a hand slowly raised up from underneath the table, reaching out for you...

"Uu...hmmm... ha, ha, ha?" Suddenly you stopped wheezing, being the one to stare with confusion with him instantly turning to look down at the ground somehow embarrassed.

You were doing some sort of meditation lesson with this cheery hot idiot, and again. It was weird as fuck.

You couldn't take his calm serious voice as he was always the jokester and cheerful one seriously ...and kept trying to contain yourself from bursting out laughing...

Until he said something in probably somehow the funniest tone ever.

"Inhale.. Exhale... Now anyway. Next ste–" The sudden cut off of the inhaling steps, again somehow made the balloon inside of you pop.

You let out a type of squeal, which almost sounded like a tea kettle boiling as you pounded on the wooden floors frantically before him

"...Huh? Are you okay, my child?" His eyebrows furrowed in more of a confused yet sad way... "I–I'M SORRY... AAAEEEHHhhh.. I CAN'T. I JUST CANT–"

You pounded on the wooden floor some more before collapsing on to the ground still wheezing, he was completely confused.

He couldn't tell if you were mocking him or just randomly thought of some weird shit.

When you burst out laughing like absolute crazy, his eyes widened, eyebrows slightly furrowing with his lips slightly parting showing his teeth...

The only thing that went through his mind was; what the fuck is that sound..?

"What the actual fuck is wrong with your laugh." Sternly said, you tried to control your laughter but you just couldn't...

He sighed, his hand pressed against his forehead. "Whatever.. Lets just sleep. I'm tired..."

It was clear he was annoyed by that laugh but he didn't actually want to act super pissed at his beloved partner...

As you were still wheezing trying to stop, he was also trying..to sleep in peace.

And the reason you were laughing, was cause of some stupid story he told earlier..

#muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader SFW #muzan x reader funny #Kokushibou x reader funny #Kokushibou x reader #Kokushibou x reader sfw #Kokushibou #Michikatsu #Michikatsu X reader funny #Michikatsu x reader #Michikatsu Tsugikuni #Douma #Douma x reader #Douma x reader funny #Douma x reader SFW

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bad For Business: Level Ten

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4K] An enemies to lovers AU. Join the team at the Upside Down Arcade, where the machines eat your quarters and the staff have some personal issues. Stay tuned for the Pick Your Own Adventure polls to progress in the story.

“Who’s Logan Duncan?”

You faltered, hands slipping over the buttons of Dig Dug as you looked over at Steve. The game beeped angrily at you as one of the tiny dragons took your last life. You frowned, annoyed, and tried to not let the embarrassment of Steve’s question show on your face. 

You were the last two in the arcade, dealt another closing shift together because everyone else got the chance to reject Murray’s question first. Your name was pencilled in beside Steve’s on the staff schedule and due to recent events, it didn’t really bother you as much as it used to. You’d both spent the majority of closing playing on the machines, smirking at each other at every win and pointedly ignoring the bucket of soapy water you should’ve been using to clean the Icee stain that Dustin Henderson created over by Donkey Kong. 

“Who?” You tried and failed to sound nonchalant.

Steve frowned too, holding up a piece of wrinkled paper that had a phone number scrawled on it, a name underneath with the instructions to ‘call me.’ You’d thought nothing of it when the stranger had slipped it to you across the desk that afternoon. The guy - Logan - had been nice enough, fairly handsome with short blonde hair and a nice smile who’d tried all afternoon to win enough tickets for his little sister. 

But that didn’t matter. 

“This guy,” Steve waved the slip of paper in front of you, scowling when you shoved another coin into the machine. Dig Dug started up again, beeping like it was arguing with him. “It fell out of your jacket when I was cleaning the office.”

You snorted, your eyes back on the screen even though you knew Steve was staring at you. “Nobody cleans the office, Steven.”

Steve ignored this, staring down at the note. The handwriting was much neater than his, he noticed. “So, are you gonna call him? This Logan guy, I’m guessing he wants a date, you gonna go?” He said the strangers name in an exaggerated drawl, like it was a ridiculous thing to be called.

“Are you jealous?” You asked, a smile starting at the corners of your mouth, lifting your lips too easily. Dig Dug was still playing, the digitised beeps filling the silence as you tore your gaze away from your tunnels to look at the boy. 

Steve was pink and glaring, rosy cheeked as he scowled at you. He would’ve argued back immediately if it weren’t for the pit of his stomach turning over. He knew he was flushed, the tips of his ears no doubt red, but he felt fucking green. He’d been hooking up with you for the past month, nothing promised, nothing spoken about. Just the usual teasing and arguments broken up by frantic make out sessions in the back of his car, his fingers slipping under your skirt when you were both still fuzzy with sleep and early for a shift. 

It had been a month of pulling at clothes, little patience had when it came to getting the other one as undressed as possible in a half hour lunch break. You lied easily to your friends, your parents, your co-workers, hardly feeling guilty as you snuck out your bedroom window and into the BMW that was parked half way down the street. The way Steve made you feel was too good to feel guilty over. 

And that was becoming a problem. 

“Jealous?” Steve repeated. “Me? No. No!”

He was cute when he floundered, you realised. Always handsome, but especially cute as he stared at you wide eyed and fidgeting, his hands - and Logan’s number - shoved into his pockets before he changed his mind and crossed his arms over his chest instead. 

“Why would I need to be jealous? We’re not- we’re not like, dating or anything.” Steve swallowed hard, biting back the ‘are we?’ he wanted to add onto the end of his statement. “I’m just, you know, wondering.”

The arcade was quiet as you watched the boy struggle through his words, shyness biting at his cheeks, his skin cotton candy pink under the lights. Once again, Dig Dug died and the game beeped at you, the screen flashing brightly. Steve Harrington seemed determined to make you lose your high score, one way or another. 

“No, I guess we’re not,” you mused, making a face that made Steve wonder what your game plan was. You looked too calm, less concerned about the conversation topic than the boy was. “I suppose I should call him then, huh?”

Steve’s frown returned, a deep thing that pinched his brows together and he wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Logan’s number had disappeared from his hold, and you wondered if it was a scrunched up ball in the depths of his jeans pocket. You turned away from the screen, leaning against the machine instead, the low lights of the arcade turning you both into shades of neon and shadows, inky where it wasn’t bright. 

“He doesn’t look your type, princess.”

You grinned, unable to help yourself. For all the years of poking and pressing and teasing each other, a jealous Steve might just be your new favourite game. You pouted, all dramatic, doe eyed and pretty. “He doesn’t?” You brushed an imaginary piece of lint off of Steve’s chest, just for an excuse to touch him. “Tell me, what’s my type, Harrington?”

Steve was on you before you could stop yourself from grinning, your smile devoured by his lips, an angry kiss that was full of frustration. Steve missed you until you gave in, lips melting between his, a pretty push and pull that had enough fight behind it that it made him groan. You let him back you up against the side of Dig Dug, the buzz of the electronics inside making your skin fizz, Steve’s open mouthed kisses down your neck doing the same. 

It’s why you’d started wearing dresses to work, skirts, all flowy and short, easily pulled up in the same way that Steve was doing now. His hands wandered easily, more than used to what you liked, what you wanted, how you felt against him. One hand was on the nape of your neck, keeping your mouth against his, the other trailing fire up your bare thigh. You were just as ready for it all, fingers fisting his hair, pulling him closer as if to prove some kind of point. Steve was pressed up against every inch of you, already half hard from the way you whined when he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“Someone who can turn you on like this,” Steve finally answered, breathless as he was cocky. His fingers slipped under the cotton of your underwear, barely ghosting over your slit but you were wet enough that he moaned alongside you. “Shit, honey, already so needy, huh?” He tutted, all mock condescension, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as he grinned. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you told him, but your breath was a little weak, wrecked by lust and you were still clinging onto Steve as he continued to tease two fingers over your folds. 

Steve hummed, barely able to keep himself from laughing. It was a warm wash of hair over your neck, another kiss to your jaw. His fingers explored further, Steve cooing softly when you brought one foot up to press against Space Invaders, spreading yourself wider for him. Steve had you pressed between to arcade machines, hardly hidden, but far away enough from the one working camera above the cash register. 

“You like it,” he reminded you, coaxing another pretty noise from your lips as he rubbed softly over your clit. It was a slow tease, something you both rarely had time for, but Steve seemed intent on proving himself today. “Don’t you? C’mon, princess, you’re usually so chatty for me. Don’t you wanna tell me how much you like it?”

You weren’t sure what Steve was referring to anymore, if he wanted to know that you liked it when he teased you, or if you liked what he was doing to your cunt, those slow, lazy circles on your clit that was making a mess of his hand. 

You whined, impatient and bratty and not wanting to give in. So you curled a hand around Steve’s wrist instead, silently telling him he better not stop. But the boy tsked, a disapproving sound that still made your cunt clench down on nothing, and shit, maybe Steve could tell because he was smirking even wider than before. 

“D’you think Logan could make you feel like this?” Steve cooed, voice dropping an octave, a raspy, warm thing that made you shiver. “Hmm? Think he could touch you this good? I make you come real hard, don’t I princess? Tell me.”

You were panting, eyebrows pinched together, body lazy against Steve’s as you trusted him to keep you upright. You knew the boy wanted an answer, wanted you to give in and beg and plead all pretty, doing everything he could to get your voice that breathy way he loved. 

“You’re- you’re alright,” you tried to tease but you sounded pitchy and desperate, fingers scratching through Steve’s hair just to drop and cling to his shoulders instead. 

Steve grinned when he kissed you, a bruising thing that was meant to make you back down but you licked your tongue over his with as much heat as he did. It wasn’t a secret Steve could make you come. Shit, he could make you come embarrassingly fast, his fingers and tongue well acquainted with every part of you now. His ego was far from bashed at your words, he knew what he did to you, ‘cause you did the same to him. Still, he frowned, a mocking pout on his lips as he tried to pretend you hurt his feelings. Instead, his cock jumped in his jeans, pressing against the denim and he tried his best not to rut against your thigh. 

“Try again, honey.” Steve’s fingers fell away from your clit only to dip inside of you, two curled up just right, thick and stretching you out. His voice was sugar, syrup, sticky sweet and falling onto your skin. “C’mon, I know you wanna be good for me.”

And you did. But old habits die hard so you grinned and cupped Steve’s crotch, palming over the denim until you could wrap your fingers around the outline of his hard cock. You watched his eyes flash and his nostrils flare at your touch, hips jutting forward like he couldn’t help himself. 

“I dunno - mmph - think I could be good for a guy who took me out.”

Steve’s mouth dropped, lips parting and eyes going a little hazy, both at your touch and his words. He leaned in, fingers slowing, a lazy drag in and out, hitting all the right spots and making you squirm. His forehead touched yours, breath fanning over your cheeks and you could smell his cologne, that expensive stuff that now clung to your pillowcases, the jacket you wore the night before when he had you pressed into the backseat of his car. 

“Yeah?” Steve groaned, nose bumping yours, eyes fluttering shut ‘cause you were squeezing the hard length of him, smiling every time his cock twitched in your hold. Still, he didn’t make a move to undo his jeans, happy to let you tease him despite the way he thumbed over your clit. “You wanna go on a date w’me, princess?”

“I didn’t say that,” you panted, always wanting an argument. Your eyes fluttered closed, a fight to keep them open as Steve hooked his fingers and rubbed little circles inside of you. “So full of yourself, Harrington.”

Steve grinned, liking the bite, the fight, the bitchy, bratty side of you that kept him hard as a fucking rock. He kissed at your cheek, sweeter than you deserved. “I think you’ll find you’re full of me, sweetheart.” 

You would’ve rolled your eyes, maybe even snarked back, but Steve sped up his movements and put more pressure on your clit, heat hooking in your stomach and windingwindingwinding. 

“Want you inside me,” you said instead, a whimper clawing at your throat, your hands pulling at Steve’s jean button. “Like, right now.”

Steve let out a noise that was a mix between a moan and a whine; a needy, wrecked thing that only made you even more desperate for him. He’d had you every way bar that, had his fingers and mouth and tongue discovering every part of you, in the back of his car, in the staff room, the store cupboard, your bedroom when your parents left for the weekend. 

But something always happened, time ticked too fast, condoms were lost from impatient fingers behind towers of boxes, police officers shone flashlights into windows and co-workers banged on locked doors. But now. Now…

“You’re - oh shit - you’re tryin’ to distract me from my point,” Steve argued weakly, his eyes closing as you shoved his jeans out of your way and pushed your hand into his boxers. He was hot and hard and leaking, finger barely able to wrap around the girth of him but he hissed at your touch. “We were having a discussion, princess - fuck me, do that again - about, ‘bout a date.”

You pulled the boy into you, pushing up to your toes, up against Steve, your free hand fisting the collar of his T-shirt until he took the hint and kissed you. Hands still played with the other, slow teases that faster and more precise the more your lips touched. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered, a salacious plead that made your body flush with heat but Steve just threw his head back and let you nip at his throat. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, fingers slipping from your cunt, leaving wetness against your thigh as he grabbed at you, hitching your leg higher up his hip. He ground into you, pushing his cock further into your hand, crushing his hips into yours. Your dress slipped up, the pretty fabric bunching between you, showing off the wet patch on the front of your underwear and Steve swore down he blanked out, just for a second. “Tell me you wanna go on a date with me, honey. Admit it and I’ll give you whatever you fucking want.”

You weren’t ready to lose this game, this fight. Not yet. So you doubled down and let out a soft whine, a pretty, girlish sound that matched the way you looked up at Steve from beneath your lashes, doe eyed and lips parted, your mouth a pink, pouty thing from all his kisses. You felt his cock throb in your hand and you gave him a little squeeze before you spoke. 

“Don’t you wanna fuck me?” You were whispering, still pressed between the arcade machines and up against Steve, both of you bathed in ultraviolet light. Dig Dug still beeped for attention, an incessant noise, but Steve’s choppy breaths were louder. “Because I want you to fuck me so bad, Steve. Please?”

He groaned, head ripping forward in defeat so you taste the sound on your lips, his teeth nipping at your jaw, your throat. He was losing it, losing the game, losing the fight, losing control. Steve rolled his hips into yours, nudged his nose at your cheek and waited until you met his gaze. His eyes were hooded, darker than ever, burnt caramel under thick lashes. 

“Say ‘please’ again for me,” he murmured, lips brushing over yours, an almost kiss, but you could taste his words and they were spun sugar, they were dripping in sin. “Shit, princess, say ‘please’ again.”

So you smiled, saccharine sweet, pecking at Steve’s lips once, twice before you whispered, “please fuck me, Steve.”

It all happened fast after that, Steve fumbling in his wallet for a condom, the packet falling to the floor before you stepped on the foil, hands pulling at Steve’s boxers, at your own underwear. Cotton and lace got stuffed into Steve’s pocket, his lips kissing a trail over your thighs as he held you pull them off, everything about it messy and frantic. He took a quick lick through your folds while he was on his knees, rough and deep enough that you gasped out, legs buckling, dragging him back up to by his hair to kiss you. He grunted as you licked the taste of yourself off his tongue, his hands grabbing at your waist almost too tight before he told you:

“Turn ‘round, honey.”

The pet names were falling from his mouth too easily, coated in affection because he was too caught up in the way you spun for him, hands braced ok the arcade machine, back arched for him. Even when he called you ‘princess’ now, it was with a fondness that he’d managed to hide before.  

“Fuck, that’s it,” he praised, smoothing a hand over your ass, bringinf your dress up to fist it at your lower back, holding you as he tugged at his cock, once, twice, and gave you the first inch. “Jesus Christ, look at you.”

He was a stretch, something you’d anticipated, because every time you took Steve’s cock in your mouth, your jaw ached and it was a messy, sloppy thing. But Steve loved it, cooing and praising you for every inch you could take, telling you how pretty you looked and now was no different. He palmed at your ass as he slid in a little more, pulling at your cheeks so he could watch the way your pussy sucked him in, pink and pretty and wet. 

He was gone. 

“Yeah, fuck, takin’ my cock so well, honey, does that feel good?” He was rambling, words tripping from his lips too fast, punctuated with harsh pants as he smoothed a comforting hand down your spine. You could only nod and whine in response. “Fucking Christ, she’s such a pretty thing, so greedy, huh? Does she want more?”

Steve slipped a hand round your front, fingers trailing across the soft of your stomach, over the swell of your chest until he found the edge of your sundress and he could pull down the collar, fingertips pulling roughly at a nipple. “Tell me.”

You found your voice then, huffing out a moan before pulling Steve closer by the nape of his neck, your back crushed to his front, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare ass every time he rocked his hips into you. 

“More, yeahyeahyeah,” you told him, eyes closed, head thrown back against his shoulder so he could kiss and bite and suck at your neck. You were going to be a mess tomorrow, skin littered in six shades of purple because of Steve fucking Harrington. “Harder, Steve.”

He did as you demanded, hand leaving your chest so he could drag it up to your neck and press his fingers to the skin there, firm enough that you got a little wetter, clenching around him as he held you against his chest, fucking up into you at a pace that was quickly making you fall apart. 

“Oh my god, shit, Steve—”

You felt him nod, cheek rubbing against yours sweetly, the beginnings of stubble scraping across your jaw and he kissed away the sting, his lips peppering over your cheek, your chin, your neck. “I know, I know, honey,” he groaned, his voice hoarse, ruined. He moaned out your name, a quiet thing just for you to hear. “Please tell me you’re close.”

You whined an agreement, hips pushing back against Steve’s so he could fuck into you deeper, your cheek leaning against the side of Dig Dug while Steve pounded you from behind. It made you feel a little hazy, body connected to Steve’s, the faraway noises of the arcade melting with the lights, the sound of skin on skin and your stuttered breaths. 

“Touch yourself,” Steve ordered, hips losing their rhythm. He was close. You could tell by the way his hand was clutching at your hip, still holding the hem of your dress as the blunt of his nails scraped over your skin, you could tell by the way he was whispering your name like a fucking prayer. “Touch that clit, honey, show her some love for me.”

You obeyed, too easily, the same way you did when you were on your knees for him and he told you he wanted to watch you touch yourself while he rubbed the head of his cock over your tongue. It was fucking awful, how easily you did what Steve asked. But your middle and pointer found the bundle of nerves and a livewire went through you, body electric, pulsing, buzzing, all with the slick slide of Steve’s hard length slipping in and out of you. You tensed up, jaw dropping, forehead thudding almost too against the game machine. 

“M’gonna come,” you managed to warn the boy, fingers running fast circles between your thighs. “Steve, I’m so fucking close.”

Steve didn’t waste any time, growling something filthy as he let his hand leave your neck to hold you round your tummy instead, hauling you back against him so he could feel every part of him pressed along your body. Hands sneaking over the soft of your stomach, cupping at your tits, lips kissing at your shoulders, nose nudging up behind your ear so he could groan softly into your hair as you clenched around his cock. 

“That’s it?” He murmured sweetly, too sweet for how he was grinding his dick into you. “There? Yeah, honey?”

You whined, murmuring your agreement as you clutched at his hands, doing your best to tangle your fingers with his so there was something to hold onto as you fell apart. You shattered, a noiseless scream leaving your throat as you fell forward, a hand planted against the buttons of Dig Dug and the screen flashed its scoreboard with yours and Steve’s name at the top. Steve tumbled over the edge soon after, a few quick pumps of his hips until he was spilling into the condom and groaning into the hair against your neck, your bodies slick and hot with exertion. 

It was a quiet, comfortable bubble when he finally slipped out of you, both of you catching your breaths. It was fuschia coloured, neon green and cyan blue, quiet and fuzzy, a bubble you didn’t want to pop. Steve got rid of what he needed to put in a trash can out back before he returned to help you back into your underwear, a kiss he couldn’t help give pressed to your knee as he slid the cotton back up your legs. Your dress was smoothed down, your hands petted at his wild hair and you both tried not to laugh at the marks on your necks, the glossy sheen of your swollen lips, the bright thing in both your eyes that could only come from a good orgasm and happiness. 

Steve cleared his throat as he pulled Logan Duncan’s phone number from his pocket once more. It was crumpled and scrunched, a little ripped and he squinted at it before showing it to you between two fingers. 

“So, I’ll pick you up at eight?” 

His cockiness was back, a confident question that he already knew the answer to because he was letting the piece of paper drop to the floor. You smiled, rolled your eyes and dropped all pretence of the game. 

‘What game?’ you thought. When did you stop pretending to hate Steve Harrington?

“You gonna come to my door? Meet my parents?” You asked, smug, excited. Nervous. “Gonna wine and dine me, Harrington?”

Steve grinned. 

BONUS CHOICES

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot

[nanamimizz]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐕𝚬𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘

tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, condom usage, established relationship, raw sex, creampie, mating press, overstimulation, dacryphilia, cervix fucking (mentioned once), manhandling - let me know if i miss something

synopsis: it’s your three year anniversary and barou knows exactly how to celebrate it, you don’t think you can take it.

Barou’s neat freakiness was well known but no one knew just how far it ran. In the same way, Barou had a specific routine for his day by day so did he have specific rules that would not be broken. Roll towels -do not fold them over, pair all socks immediately and keep all baskets in the washroom. He has rules about personal care too, his long warm-ups and cool-downs, and brushing his teeth three times a day.

And most of these things charm you in a way - seeing how detailed his red gaze makes you laugh behind your hand in a way that Barou thinks has no reason to be that cute. Well, all but one rule makes you laugh like that. Barou Shoei in the three years you’ve been dating after meeting at a high school reunion that ended with phone numbers being exchanged to tonight’s dinner coming to an end has been maintained without room for budging.

He always has to wear a rubber.

It was nice the first couple of months, even with being on the pill at first it made you almost purr seeing how adamant he was on it. After a year the charm had half worn off, any pleas fell on deaf ears after he had pulled you aside for a quickie only to realize his condom had expired. What resulted from that was you getting your thighs fucked and coming around nothing from the silky head of his cock nudging against your clit. The second year you had admitted to him that you no longer planned to take the pill, clearly subtlety wasn’t the strongest trait in the men of his family as it only made him more adamant on condom usage. 

It wasn’t until tonight - it’s your third anniversary and you both were changing for bed. He was in the bathroom, his hair down and smelling of soap as he looked at how you gently hung the pretty dress you wore for him but Barou can’t help but think about how much prettier you are dressed in ultra-soft leggings and a dark green long sleeve. He catches one last glimpse of you before turning back to the sink for the task of brushing his teeth. He had left his wallet on the counter, letting it flap in any way it wanted to and his eyes were caught on the raunchy yellow packaging almost neon in the soft lighting you installed in the bathroom.

Barou thinks profoundly for a moment and thinks about you and all the ways he loves you. He’s introduced you to his sisters that call him a loser whenever you are in their presence. You tell them to apologize as they whisk you away and he can catch their half-assed “sorry big brother sho!” on the air while he rolls his eyes at their antics. He gets you soy milk instead of cow milk, and he doesn’t call you a donkey or peasant. That might seem like a weird thing but for Barou that’s a big deal - is probably what you would say in his defense which makes him huff amusedly as he spits out the toothpaste in the sink. 

Barou takes the condom out of the folds of his wallet and it lands in the trash with a satisfying ‘flick’.

He comes out of the bathroom and he feels his shoulders drop at the sight of you carefully running a lint roller over his blazer before you zip up the covering, and tuck it away in the closet like you did with your own dress.

Yeah, Barou Shohei doesn’t need anything holding him back tonight.

Three years is a long time, and his hand twitched at the idea of finally having you the proper way, the right way. It’s apparent in the way he kisses you, big hands settling on the curve of your ass in those oh-so-soft leggings of yours that always make him ask you to walk in front of him. You gasp and whine when his tongue makes its way into your mouth - a king on a conquest and you concede without a battle. Your hands curl themselves into his shirt, fisting the fabric as Barou bends his back to have more of the taste of honey on your lips until his teeth ache. He’s sucking your tongue, tracing your teeth, groping, and grabbing at your cute ass. Barou delights in the wet and thin little sounds you make, and he pulls away when he has to not because he wants to. He takes joy in the thin glossy strings that trail after him.

You panting - all soft and thin little sounds that drive him crazy and you’re quick to bring a hand to cover your face when he squeezes your ass again. Barou is back to bumping heads with you, nudging your head with a hungry look in his eyes that makes you want to run and hide.

Lest you are found in the lion’s maw.

“More - I want more, I want to devour you.” He mumbles and you can feel the bass in his chest when he presses his own lips to yours and you gasp when you are met with tongue and teeth. You can only let out shudders of his name, gasps,, and whines because he keeps going until you feel your knees folding when met with the edge of the bed. A hand much bigger than yours goes from your ass to your chest and you find yourself flat on the bed. 

From above you, Barou is mighty, and from beneath him, you are divine.

“What’s - what’s gotten into you tonight?” You ask with swollen lips and stolen breath. Barou shakes his head, reaching under your comfortable clothes, and groans at the soft skin under his palms. You smell like the expensive lotion you splurge on, notes of jasmine and peonies are in the air and he thinks about how sweet the smell of your cunt would mix with them.

“It’s our anniversary you’re dumb if you think I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He gruffs out, red eyes looking at the way you bite your lip and flush at his vulgar word choice. How someone as delicate as you got with him he’ll never know but he’s for sure not going to ruin his gift with insolence. Your shirt is off, his hands tug at the band of your leggings and he can’t help but let out a curse at the sight of pretty lace meeting him. He can see the curls of your hair through the sheer fabric and you hide behind your hand as he finishes tugging off your bottoms.

“You wear pretty things like this for me and you still thought I wouldn’t fuck you tonight?”  He almost growls at you and in return you turn away, unable to meet his gaze. Your undergarments look all the more dainty under his fingers when he tugs away the fabric and there’s a groan that is ripped from his chest when he sees the sticky strings of slick that cling to the gusset of the panties.

Your clit is hard, flushed among the petals of folds and your thighs jolt at his touch. His fingers can’t help but strum at it fast and rough, making you whine his name all high and pathetic. Red eyes look at how you shine in the soft golden lamps of the bedroom and moan at how just being played with the littlest bit makes you leak down his palm.

“Fuck, fuck you’re leaking it’s like you’re in heat for me.” He mutters from above you, letting a finger shallowly enter your cunt. Laughing when you tense up hips hiking and thighs popping shut, there’s something wicked in his vermillion gaze.

“You’re fucking cute, huh? Acting like you haven’t taken fucking my cock before?” He can see the sweat that drips down the side of your cheek and fights the urge to lick it up. You shake your head and it’s like your whole body trembles when you feel his finger sink further inside of you.

“It’s not that - just everything ah! Everything is sensitive t-today.” You gasp out and your eyes shut and you feel the telling sign of tears because Barou had slipped in another finger, curling it up into that spongy spot on your upper wall.

“Yeah? You need it bad, huh?” He asks you all mocking and cruelty because he knows, keeping a thumb at your clit and you feel like your brain is gonna melt out of your ears. You whimper into his smug grin and he laughs at your scrunched expression because you’re about to come for him. Despite being covered by your hair he can see how warm your ears are when your hands come to grip at the forearm of the hand that’s fucking your cunt with almost cruel precision. There are tears in your eyes as you cum with a squeal of his name - he can see his reflection in the shine and there is something vicious in his stomach that groans in approval at your pleasure-stricken face.

Barou tries very hard to be gentle with you, leaning into his better nature with tentative steps but right now with his head swimming with all the things he wants to do to you - he can’t help but want to be a villain. There’s nothing gentle with how he lets your orgasm crash and burn through you, your nerves buzzing and burning as you tremble beneath him. Your thighs are still shaking and your nipples are tight, his cock slaps against your folds; he moans with you at how the strings of your cum cling to the silk skin of its ruddy head. It rubs into your folds, and you feel tears drip down your cheeks because when one orgasm fuzzes out you still have more pleasure to traverse.

“Ah- wait, where’s the condom Sho-” You began to ask and you can only squeak when you feel the bare head of his cock being pressed into the opening between the petals of your cunt. Your hands had gone to clutch at his biceps - you had gotten your nails down for dinner tonight and Barou can’t help but moan at the sting.

“Not wearing one, I’m, fuck,” His head is in and Barou feels like the floor just swallowed him when he feels how hot you are. Barou is most familiar to your body, has seen it, and touched it the most intimately over the years. He’s felt your warmth and felt your slick when it would drip down to his balls but this..this was different. It feels like a punch to the gut, how you take him - a tight little fit because you’re in that time of the month when all your body can think about is cock. It’s like hot silk, pulpy and needy with how it drools around him and there’s a shiver that racks down his back when he feels a drop of your slick drip down a particularly sensitive vein down the left side of his cock. “I’m fucking you raw.”

His words are heavy in the air and you only let out soft girlish sounds when he pushes the rest of his cock in, long and heavy as it twitches inside of you. You’re losing your mind, it feels like the first time all over again and you feel like you’re going to sob your heart out with each inch that slips inside of you. Swallows around nothing and groans as he presses against your forehead when he feels himself slip the base. Is this how he could have had you for the past three years?

But it isn’t enough. Not like this.

 His hands go to grip your thighs so tightly you mewl at the sting, red eyes lock on where your bodies are joined and you feel the ache in your joints as his hands force your thighs further and further apart.

“A-ah, Shoei what are you doing?” You ask voice wobbling and thin as you feel yourself being manhandled, your weight shifting higher and higher on your upper back. The world tilts on its axis as you feel your ankles meeting the sturdy skin of his defined shoulders. The angle makes everything slip further - the head of his cock meeting a special sponge-like spot that makes you moan high and thin. It makes his cock twitch, eyes snapping up to watch how you keep the tears coming and you’re trembling all over.

“Trying to see what I've been missin’ all this time - tryin' to fuck you the right way.” He grunts out, voice thick and rough, racked with lust that he can’t contain. The first thrust feels like a freight train and you squeal like a mouse at the feeling of it, an adorable little tidbit but it isn’t what he wanted. He fucks you deeper, harder he’s sure there will be indents of his hips on your cute ass that ripples each time your bodies smack against each other. It’s too much for you, the weight, the length, and the strength of his cock. You’re too delicate at times and he feels your dainty hand come up to his pelvis, nails swiping at his stomach accidentally and he tries to [push past the way the sting makes him moan.

Barou wanted you to sound like a whore, just for him, just for tonight.

“You holdin’ out on me? Begged for my dick like this for years and now you have it you can’t take it?” He grunts at you, hiking you further up until you’re bent into a shape you’ve never been in. Your ankles are freely hanging in the air and your hands grip his biceps. Your shoulders and your cunt feel like a river - you don’t know how you’ll live with the embarrassment that you like being manhandled like this.

Barou feels like a beast and less of a man, he should have fucked you like this from the beginning because he can feel how you pulse, how you moan in time to the flutters of your walls and the throbs of your clit. You’re soaking him from tip to balls and he groans when he feels your slick drip down to his inner thighs. Thighs twitching at the idea of you creaming on his for the first time makes him ignore the burning in his core because Barou thinks if he’s denied that he’ll kill someone and he is desire is realized faster than he thought.

You fall apart with a wail - something too loud and deep in your chest he’s sure the next house overheard you and the thought makes him pump into you at an even pace. The stimulation makes the pleasure endure and it’s like watching the fibers of your mind being frayed right in front of you. Your cum is milky, thin, and opaque and Barou watches it froth at the base of his cock even spilling into the trimmed black hairs of his crotch. He moans because fuck, fuck this is what he’s been waiting for.

There’s a fog in your eyes and you wonder if you even have a brain anymore and when the too-hot pleasure pain from Barou’s thrusts keeps up you know you do. You peek down at where you two are connected and moans so weakly he wonders if he broke you. There are red scratch marks on his biceps and you gasping, stuttering over your words because God this is the best sex of your life.

“Di-did you cum, ah, Shoei?” You ask with a rocky voice and you whine in between the syllables because you feel the bump as the head of his cock meets a wall it’s never touched before.

“Nah - that’s just, fuck,” you twitched around him when he bumps into the wall of your cunt again,” that’s just fucking you and this messy cunt you got.” You moan with him at the same and your eyes have black rims around them from the remnants of mascara that you couldn’t get off but most certainly had cried off looking up to meet him. Barou doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more prettier than right now, and he thinks about how he’ll get to have this view again and again until you get sick of him.

Maybe that’s the thought that gets him - in time with the shuddering ache at his core of fucking you like an animal and he spills into you. You gasp his name, whining it out and Barou’s never felt like more of a man than right now as you watch how his cum leaks out of you; cunt swollen and puffy he can’t help but huff when he feels his cock twitch at the thought of filling you again. Your legs are still over his shoulders and he turns his head to press a kiss to the delicate slope of your calf.

“Hope you’re ready for the next round,” he mutters into your scented skin nipping at the delicate line of your ankles. “I still have more I want to devour.”

What a foolish thing you are, you’ve always been in the lion’s maw and what a lovesick thing you are turning away bashfully but still presenting yourself for him. Greedy things the two of you really.

#lamb.writes #barou smut #barou shoei smut #blue lock smut #bllk smut #felt insane writing this btw