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saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。FAMILY SECRETS — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fem! + mom! reader, reader is referred to as “mommy” and “wife,” girl dad toru <3, family shenanigans in the grocery store that are unfortunately inescapable when your husband is gojo satoru

“ok,” you nod, looking over your grocery list. “i think that’s everything—”

“mommy, can we please get this,” your daughter looks up at you pleadingly, tugging at your sleeve as she holds a bag of candy—she has satoru’s eyes, wide and blue and so easy to give into. you look at her for a moment before pursing your lips.

“no, satoru. we can’t get this bag of candy.” you turn to the devil himself, glaring at him as he whistles innocently.

“what’re you lookin’ at me for, sweetheart? our little peanut here wants—”

“satoru.”

“fine,” he deflates. you pinch your nose as you sigh.

satoru, in his thirty plus years of life, has surprisingly never had a cavity for how much sugar he consumes. he’s good at taking care of himself, he argues, there’s no chance he’d ever get a cavity. that is, until recently. he visits the dentist and has not one, but two cavities—you think this is a rather alarming sign that he needs to cut back on the sweets, so you take matters into your own hands.

and, well….he’s not handling it very brightly.

“you thought i’d cave just because you tricked our daughter into asking?” you raise a brow, making him huff as he pouts.

“what kind of heartless soul could say no to those eyes?” he asks in disbelief, waving a hand at the small carbon copy of your husband as she blinks up at you, “i mean look at her! she doesn’t deserve the word no.”

“she definitely needs the word no so she doesn’t end up spoiled like you. and i’ve had plenty of practice,” you shoot blandly, “i’ve said no to your eyes all these years haven’t i?”

“even crazier,” he mutters, “i have the most adorable eyes, how could you say no?”

“it’s pretty easy if you ask me,” you shrug.

most people tend to call satoru arrogant—humble is not usually used in the same sentence as gojo satoru. evidently, they’ve never watched him interact with you before—you always find a way to humble him. he’s starting to think he’s the butt of every joke in his own marriage.

“please, baby?” he pouts deeper, “i’ve been good! i floss!”

“no.”

“what if i fold the laundry for a month?” he bats his lashes.

that’s tempting, you have to admit. folding laundry is a very boring job, you’re more than happy to hand it over to satoru for a bag of candy that barely dents your wallet. but then you find your resolve again, crossing your arms as you stare at him unimpressed.

“no, satoru.”

“two months?”

“nope.”

“did you only marry me for my looks?” he asks in disbelief, “because there’s not one ounce of love in that heart of yours.”

“this is for your own good, satoru,” you say firmly, “you had two cavities. how much sugar have you been consuming lately? and don’t think i don’t notice you skipping meals when you’re busy—a chocolate bar does not replace lunch.”

you’re glaring at him, drilling him for his health choices that are not his fault—he’s a busy guy, and he can’t help that a chocolate bar on his way to a mission is all he can squeeze in sometimes. maybe a protein bar would be a better option, but they’re not as tasty, and satoru thinks he deserves to be happy. and then, from the end of the aisle, you hear a few snickers coming from passerby’s. he pouts deeper at the thought of being laughed at as he gets scolded by his wife in the middle of the breakfast aisle.

“what’s the point of living if you’re gonna be miserable?” he groans, “we might as well just start going to bed at nine pm too, while we’re at it. and—”

“that’s actually a lovely idea,” you hum thoughtfully, “you certainly could use the sleep, couldn’t you?”

he glares at you petulantly, sulking as you grab the bag from your daughter’s and put it on the shelf—it’s not the right place, but taking a trip to the candy aisle to place it where it belongs is only venturing deeper into the lion’s den. you’re not letting satoru have more options to choose from.

“you seein’ this, angel?” he turns to your daughter, “you see how mean mommy is? she’s not letting us have candy. make sure you remember that when i ask you who’s your favorite again.”

you roll your eyes, snorting. satoru asks her playfully one night who the favorite parent is—it’s a meaningless question, meant to be a joke and nothing else. you’re sure he expects her to say both—but he gets his feelings severely hurt when she giggles and points to you, staring in disbelief as you grin in victory and kiss her cheeks. you even rub salt on the wound when you mumble she’s your favorite baby too.

he’s starting to really think he’s a victim in his own household.

“but mommy gives me candy,” she tilts her head in confusion.

oh no. she’s not supposed to say that—she promised not to say that. why can’t children ever keep a filter on their words? and why can’t they keep their promises?

almost like in slow motion, both of your eyes widen. satoru pauses. you start to sweat. he turns to face you slowly, in abject disbelief.

“what?” you laugh nervously, “no i don’t! we don’t have any candy at home—”

“she keeps it in her drawer!” your daughter adds, as if she wants to see your downfall.

you love your daughter, you really do—but sometimes you think motherhood is a punishment for whatever sin it is that you’ve committed in your previous life. satoru crosses his arms and taps his foot.

“what happened to we’ll all give up sweets together so you’re not alone, toru,” he mocks your voice, squinting at you accusingly. “so we’re a family of liars now?”

“toru, listen—”

“i trusted you.”

“baby—”

“what happened to our wedding vows? what happened to in sickness and in death? a little cavity is enough to change all that? i’m scared to think what you’d do if i lost an arm.”

“well, you’re not the strongest for nothing,” you point out, chuckling nervously, “so we have nothing to worry about there.”

“i can’t believe you,” he spits, turning away from you with crossed arms and a quiet hmph.

“toru, you can’t expect us all to give up sugar just because you can’t stop making poor health choices,” you argue exasperatedly.

so what if you secretly enjoy a kitkat here and there? you deserve it for dealing with not one, but two children at home every single day—sometimes three if shoko comes over, her lifestyle choices aren’t any better. satoru should let you enjoy a piece of candy or two until he fixes his terrible habits that could very well set a terrible example for your very young and impressionable daughter.

“well, i have adult money of my own,” satoru huffs, “and as an adult, i’ll be purchasing my own candy to hide in my own drawer that i won’t share with you since we’re now apparently a family that doesn’t think sharing is caring.”

“i don’t know if i’m raising one child or two,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face.

satoru grabs the bag of candy off the shelf, promptly placing it in the cart before walking off ahead of you as he pushes it. your daughter grabs your hand and smiles, tugging you along.

“c’mon mommy,” she says brightly, “you said we can go to the park!”

—————— BONUS ——————

“are you serious, satoru?” you ask incredulously, watching as he comes back to sit on the other end of the bench, ice cream cone in hand.

he didn’t even bring you one—what an asshole.

“oh sorry,” he shrugs, “i figured you and our daughter were planning on getting ice cream on your own without me. since, you know, apparently you guys love to have lots of things without me.”

“you’re being so dramatic—”

“i want ice cream too!” you hear a small voice call from the distance, making you turn to your daughter as she sprints over to you from the playground, eyeing the cone in satoru’s hand.

“you heard her,” he drawls, licking at his strawberry ice cream mockingly, “why don’t you go buy her a secret cone. i won’t look.”

being a single mom of two is a full time job, you think, you didn’t sign up for this.

guess who has two cavities ?? a certain brother of mine. guess who’s entire household has to give up sweets now for their brother’s inability to have proper dental hygiene ?? if you guessed me, you might just be psychic :O

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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todorokies · 9 months

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jjk characters as male thot jobs

including: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, kento nanami

contents: sfw but very suggestive, jjk men acting like sluts, gn!reader but there is a fem term used once

a/n: you might not consider some of these as “thot jobs” but im here to hypnotize you ouuuuhhh *wiggles fingers around* .. this is so silly but i had a blast writing this one

☆ . . . since gojo’s brain is hardwired to find teasing others amusing and quite the pass time i could see him as a dentist. you go to your local clinic for a annual deep cleaning and this man purposely goes out of his way to make things seem inherently sensual but still manages to do his job professionally. he’ll coo and praise you for following the most regular orders “now open real nice and wide for me … that’s righttt, good girl.” and “bite down on this … mhm yes just like that, you’re doing a great job.”

he’d definitely be like the annoying ones who still try to have a conversation while knuckles-deep prodding in your mouth. “i can tell you haven’t been flossing as much as you should be, what’s up with that?” and all you can do is narrow your eyes at him. he always caress your jaw and cheek too even through the latex gloves his touches are so intimate and gentle at the end of your appointment you’ll be genuinely considering if you should fuck your dentist or not.

☆ . . . i had multiple options for geto but firmly decided on a ceramic artist. i can envision him owning a modern yet whimsical pottery studio —he wanted the modern look but nanako and mimiko insist on the whimsical interior.— he offers free beginner classes twice a month. omgg the way his hands knead at the clay and skillfully sculpts on the wheel with his fingers meticulously bending, making his veins more prominent while delicately morphing the creation into a vase. he annunciates his instructions with melodic calmness but still has authority present in his tone i swearrr his voice is like honey.

you catch his eye in one of his classes and offers extended hours free of charge to help you “better your form.” he sits behind you, cradling your forearms directing your movements but still making room for you to assist your own creation. his warm minted breath tickles the back of your neck causing goosebumps “make sure to sit close to the wheel and anchor your elbows tightly against your body…” the sultry in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed with him slightly moving to your ear next “don’t be afraid to make mistakes it’s all about trial and error darling.”

☆ . . . like the unemployed bum toji is, he seems like the type of man to pride himself as a ‘jack of all trades.’ which is why i see him in the freelancer field of work, specifically, a personal shopper. he has an app on his phone where he can either accept or deny requests. he’s quite picky with commissions when money isn’t running low, but don’t get him wrong, he’s willing to go the extra mile to please his clients. always prefers phone calls over text when discussing farther details knowing his gruff voice will have the recipient weak in the knees. he isn’t shameful to treat his full time employment as a part time hookup arrangement…if he’s lucky enough that is.

“here’s your stuff pretty.” the quite taller and muscular man at your porch hands over a brown bag containing your groceries. you don’t miss the way his hands graze yours in the exchange, his sharp eyes examine you like you’re his prey; awaiting for your next move in a game you involuntarily started playing. words of gratitude try to slither past your lips but ultimately couldn’t —you’ve officially peaked his interest— “hey, why don’t i help you unload your items?” at that you nodded making way for the sleazy man to enter your home and eventually your bedroom as well.

☆ . . . what differentiates nanami from the rest is that he’s unaware of how insanely attractive his profession as a baker is. he truly doesn’t understand the appeal of a man in an apron kneading dough and decorating pink frilly cupcakes. he co-owns a bakery with haibara !! they even enrolled in culinary school together. the interior is quite morden with wisteria and other succulent plants hanging from the ceiling; most of the time he’s clueless to very clear advances from others or kindly shut them down saying how he’s “not looking for anything serious” which is a lie he himself started to believe.

but on a faithful sunday autumn morning you stroll in just salivating at the thought of warm dewy chocolate filled croissants, fresh from the oven, when you see him; clad in a bulky knitted cream sweater tying a black apron around his slim waist whilst his becipes bulged slightly through the thick material of the sweater. “good morning, what can i get for you today?” one thing lead to another making you leave with not only a croissant but the blond man’s phone number —due thanks to his cheeky younger coworker, yuji, who wrote the number on your receipt including a note that read: ‘he’s soooo into you :)’—

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

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ajbullet · 4 months

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My thoughts on episode 1 and 2 of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: (spoilers)

- The ACCURACY of the little Percy casting was unbelievable. They look identical.

- The SARCASM 🫶🏻👌🏻

- I’ve never been able to connect with Sally Jackson as a mother-figure in the books just because of my own rocky relationship with my mom, but the way she’s played really made me believe in her character and her love for Percy. It gives PERCY’s character more grounding and their relationship really drives the show.

- Sally just sitting in the rain with Olivia Rodrigo playing. Mood.

- “You fell in love…with Jesus?”

- The friction and “betrayal” between Percy and Grover was super interesting to see and I’m really glad they touched on that more than in the books

- I’ve been pronouncing Brunner wrong. Dam.

- Sally saying goodbye to Percy, knowing she was probably going to die 😭. Percy screaming for her.

- the Minotaur fight was awesome

- “YOU DROOL WHEN YOU SLEEP” Omg I can’t believe she said it. Leah’s delivery was different than how I imagined it but I loved it. She’s so matter-of-fact

- Again, I’ve always struggled with connecting with Luke’s character just because I felt like he was a little two-dimensional in the first book and then after that, you know, he’s evil and while I understood his motivations, I just didn’t really…care? Idk but his portrayal really helped me understand the depth of his betrayal and just how heartbreaking his story really is. I already love him more than I’ve allowed myself to from the books

- “She’s my little sister” I love their relationship while it lasts. Seeing how close they are really adds to the layers of both of their characters

- I’ve also been pronouncing Thalia wrong. Double dam.

- THE BLUE CANDY. PERCY BURNING IT NOT TO TALK TO HIS DAD BUT HIS MOM. That scene broke my heart.

- Leah. As. Annabeth. I’m going to be completely honest, Ive loved Leah from everything I’ve seen about her but I was nervous just because of how precious of a character Annabeth Chase has always been to me and I didn’t know if ANYONE, not specifically Leah, could live up to those expectations but omg I love her. Her bluntness. Her facial expressions. Her voice and delivery. Her sure movements and confidence and self-assuredbess that has come from success after success and training for so long. The way she is so unashamed to admit to using Percy and only watching him to see what he could do for HER. In her short amount of screen time so far, Leah was able to add layers to this character I’ve loved for so long that I didn’t even know where there. I never wanted her to leave the screen. My only complaint is that she didn’t have more lines. She is my Annabeth Chase. She’s not from the books. She’s not from the movies. She’s her own version and she stole the show.

- Luke saying Annabeth has a plan and that Percy will know what to do, only for PERCY TO BE FLOSSING AND PEEING AND PETTING GECKOS and trying so hard not to drive himself crazy with his ADHD and having nothing to do. I genuinely laughed out loud. Might be my favorite part.

- the fight scenes are so well choreographed.

- CLARISSE. She’s too pretty. I can’t hate her. And her ELECTRIC SPEAR. When it broke and she screamed, I got chills.

- The trident.

- Annabeth KNOWING Percy was Poseidon’s before anyone else cause she’s “always 6 steps ahead”

- People already keeping such important info from Percy “for his own good”

- “You are Poseidon’s son” “No, I am Sally Jackson’s son!” Might just be my favorite line. It’s so true. She raised him. She sacrificed everything for him. She loved him and cared for him and taught him that he wasn’t broken, he was singular, a miracle. She died so that he could live.

- Sally Jackson is parenting goals

- The way Percy instantly changed his decision to go to the underworld as soon as Grover told him his mom could be saved. Their relationship is unmatched

- Walker Scobell is already pretty well known, but I have a really good feeling his popularity is going to skyrocket after this show. He is such an amazing, dedicated actor. I know exactly what he is felling 100% of the time.

Overall, I absolutely loved it. In two episodes it’s become a comfort show that I can’t wait to continue watching!!

#annabeth chase #percy and annabeth #percy jackson #percabetn #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo disney+#pjo #pjoverse #annabeth pjo #grover underwood #percabeth #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the lightning thief

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hotluncheddie · 15 days

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Day 1: Accidental subspace

"Open Wide"

Ao3

wc: 1.5k | rated: M | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, pre relationship, oblivious Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson, non-sexual subspace, aftercare

written for @subeddieweek <3

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

‘So I guess I’ll say something like.. Hi! I’m Steve, I’m just assisting the dentist to check that you’re flossing correctly, nothing to worry about.’ Steve says from above Eddie, putting on a customer service smile.

Steve’s facing down at him, floss in hand. ‘Totally routine procedure?’ He asks, pursing his lips. Then he looks directly at Eddie, face smoothing out into something fond. ‘But just relax for me okay?’ He says softly, moving some hair from Eddie’s cheek.

‘Okay.’ Eddie rasps, clearing his throat. He's still not used to being this close to Steve, even after being roommates for months. Still not used to having Steve’s full attention on him, even after being proper friends for a whole year.

And now Eddie’s here, and Steve has his gloved fingers in Eddie’s mouth. Eddie never realised how intimate the dentist could be. Not until he’s laying here on Steve’s bed, head on one of Steve’s pillows, bracketed by Steve’s thighs so he can lean over Eddie. Lean over and put his gloved fingers in Eddie’s mouth.

(28 hours earlier.)

‘Eddie please.’ Steve whines, sliding his torso across the table between them. Brandishing his clasped hands and burying his head in his elbows.

It’s too early for this. Eddie hasn’t even gotten half way through his coffee and Steve is sitting here asking him things.

Asking him things when it’s so early Steve hasn’t even changed out of his glasses yet.

How is Eddie supposed to think in these conditions?

‘Huh?’ Eddie asks, because, what?

‘I have to practice and the only reason they agreed to interview me for this is job is because I have experience with kids. I’lI need to show them my bedside manner is good dude.’ Steve explains, rapid, like he’s said it before.

Eddie’s eyes narrow, eyebrows furrowing, he.. huh? ‘What’s that got to do with me Stevie?’ He asks, still totally lost and he can see down the front of Steve’s old sleep shirt.The chest hair is not helping him process.

Steve huffs, strands of hair on his forehead jumping. ‘I need to pretend you're a patent, floss your teeth and stuff. Just to get a feel for what they might get me to do when I go in.’

‘… Okay.’ Eddie says, still not fully sure what’s going on but, if it’ll help Steve, well, he honestly thinks he’d do pretty much anything.

‘Thank you thank you thank you thank you!’ Steve cheers, clapping Eddie on both shoulders and squeezing. Still leaning across the table. Eddie can see the freckles on Steve’s nose. ‘I’m buying you dinner! First dental assistant check I get, I’m taking. You. Out. Munson!’ Steve says, smile sunny and blinding and Eddie has no idea what his face is doing right now. But, if Steve keeps looking at him like that Eddie thinks he could cry. It’s early, and Steve is too pretty for his fragile constitution.

‘Good, that’s good. Now I’m going to get the teeth at the back okay?’ Steve asks, waiting for Eddie’s small nod. ‘Feel how I’m flossing both sides of the gum too? That’s how you need to do it at home, get rid of all the germs.’ And Eddie does, sort of, he feels something happening in the back of his mouth. Steve’s knuckle against his teeth, forcing them that little bit wider. Eddie’s not sure at what point his eyes slip closed but it’s not until Steve’s retracted his hand and is lightly dabbing Eddie’s chin with a tissue, that he opens them again.They feel so much heavier than before.

‘Sleepy?’ Steve murmurs, smiling down at him.

Eddie swallows and blinks slowly, brain not really processing what Steve just asked. He clears his throat. Is he tired? He slept pretty well last night so, not really. He does feel relaxed though.

Eddie blinks again, looking up at Steve. His bed backs onto the rooms little window and Steve refuses to get proper curtains for them. Instead keeping the light white lacy ones that were left from the elderly couple who lived here before. They let so much light through it would send Eddie insane, but the soft sort of shimmer that glows across Steve’s cheek and shoulders now, it’s pretty.

Steve really is so pretty. Eddie sighs, shifts deeper into the beds soft sheets. A really pretty guy, person.

Eddie knows this already, obviously. But, it feels different. Eddie thinks he’d crawl on all fours for Steve right now without even batting an eye.

Its kind of always been like that for him and pretty people though, ever willing to do anything for a bit of attention. But it’s never felt like this, never felt quite this intense.

Steve ask Eddie to open wide again, getting the other side of his teeth with the floss. Then he gently probes at each tooth’s gum with his finger. Eddie watches the curve of Steve’s eyebrow as he focuses. Eyelids so slow to blink and brain a soupy sort of fog, no thoughts up there. Just the nice feeling of his mouth being played with, Steve doing as he pleases.

The soupy floaty feeling travels down to his fingers a toes, stirs in his gut. Eddie feels like he’s getting his whole body massaged just through his teeth. Almost like he’s in a bath, or like there’s a mouth on his cock.

He makes a noise in his throat, it could honestly be a moan, but Steve’s fingers are in the way. That makes Eddie squirm. Steve’s fingers are in his mouth.

‘Almost done, you’re doing so well.’ Steve says gently.

Eddie really likes being here with Steve, letting him touch.

‘Close.’ Steve instructs finally, fingers pressed lightly into the hinge of Eddie’s jaw. ‘Good. You have nice teeth Ed.’ He murmurs.

Eddie hums happily, a little giggle bubbling out of him. He grins, showing Steve his teeth again, watching his eyebrows lift slightly. But his fingertips keep tracing Eddies jaw, following the curve of it, making goosebumps appear on Eddie’s arms.

‘M’gonna go get you some water okay? And a snack. You okay waiting here for me, for just a sec?’ Steve asks softly, now tracing the shape of Eddie’s lips.

Eddie thinks it’s okay, Steve’s bed has always been the most comfortable. He has the nicest sheets. Eddie nods.

Steve slides his legs out from under the pillow, padding out of the room, taking off his gloves and Eddie hears the fridge open.

Its colder without Steve here. Weird. He misses Steve. Wants him to come back. Maybe Eddie does feel kinda of strange actually, he wants Steve back touching his jaw. He feels so cold, like his chest is caving in.

‘Steve?’ He calls trying to sit up but his body isn’t cooperating. His mind not able to think through the fuzz. His hands trembling a little.

Steve comes back in, holding water and a granola bar. ‘Hey, hey Eddie I’m here. You’re okay.’ And sits down close, wrapping Eddie up in his arms.

‘Feel weird.’ Eddie mumbles, gripped Steve’s shoulders tight and fisting his soft t-shirt.

‘S’okay, let’s go sit on the couch yeah? Watch a movie.’ Steve says gently, rocking Eddie a little. He should maybe be embarrassed but it feels so much better to have Steve close that he doesn’t care. Doesn’t want Steve to go far again.

Eddie nods and stands up, making sure to keep hold of Steve’s arm, hugging it close as he leads them into the living room and onto their worn sofa.

Steve lays down first and pulls Eddie by their still linked fingers to settle between his thighs, Eddie’s face in Steve’s neck until he’s ready to come out. Making him take sips of water every few minutes, sharing bites of granola bar and stroking Eddie’s hair.

Eddie drifts, almost to sleep, he’s so comfortable and calm, wrapped up in Steve. The sound of baseball coming softly from the tv.

‘Hey! I’m home!’ Robin shouts from the front door, dropping her stuff and shuffling through. She stops dead once she sees them cuddles up on the couch. Eddie between Steve and the sofa, head now resting on his chest so he can see the tv too. Steve is channel hopping but stops to look at her. Eddie’s not really sure what to do, he definitely doesn’t want to move but, she’s looking at them really weird.

But Robin is focused on Steve, eyebrows moving, not talking. Eddie edges around to see Steve doing the same thing.

‘Happy for you.’ She finally huffs, stomping off to the kitchen. But Eddie hears her mumbling under her breath.

‘Only Steve fucking Harrington could get a guy with a dentist shtick, Jesus christ.’

‘Huh?’ Eddie asks Steve, really not sure what’s going on.

‘Nothin’ we’ll talk about it tomorrow, when you’re less foggy.’ Steve says softly, kissing Eddie on the forehead and pulling him back into his chest.

Tomorrow. Yeah, that sounds good, Eddie really doesn’t want to move.

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#they talk about it #and make out #:)#sub eddie week #steddie #steve x eddie #hotlunch #my fic #<3 #steddie fic #starting out M not E #gotta ease into it #sunday is for rest #SubEddieWeek

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creepling · 2 months

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ dating digger harkness headcanons

this is a very specific reader because i love the idea of this grimy hobo having a cute, smart girly partner that is the candy floss to his raccoon energy OKAYYY. also tcm shenanigans will be back shortly, i just had to give some love to a dc rogue like the old times<33

tags: feminine reader (wears dress, skirt, heels, mild makeup and has breasts and v) but gn pronouns. sugar daddy digger if you squint. reader is a jailbird. cuddling. pet name: birdie. smut under the cut - minors dni. polaroid nudes. (m) masturbation. thoughts of: oral (m receiving) and cowgirl.

If you were to ask Digger the first thing he noticed about you, his caveman mind would be objectifying. But your ass did look very flattering in your skirt and the smile you shot his way was the cherry on top. He likes them sweet and innocent, you like them rugged and dangerous. It was a match made in hell heaven.

After a few dates spent in dingy pubs and lover’s lanes, he was enamoured by you. He’s never had someone look at him the way you do. Eyes full of light, glistening at the sight of him. You always welcomed him with open arms, practically throwing yourself at him. He liked how easy you were to pick up, and the way you wrapped your limbs around him. How your soft skin blushes red against his scruffy neck. No matter the setting, you sat so close to him that you were more or less on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, or has a hand on your thigh, letting nearby acquaintances know you belong together. Digger thinks to himself, “I got so fucking lucky.”

His love languages are primarily gift-giving and physical touch. More times than you can count, Digger has fallen asleep on top of you. Either on the couch, while watching a movie or he found a way to snake between your legs while sleeping, he has a habit of using you like a pillow. You developed a kinship in moments like this where you play with his hair, massaging your fingers into the nape of his neck or twirling the strands that curtain his temples. You muse at his sleep-full hums, watching this rogue unwind under your touch, satisfied like a dog receiving pets. The gift-giving is when his rogue side is on high voltage. He wants to give you the world, shower you with jewels, let you wear the best of gear. “You want diamonds? Yeah, I’ll get you diamonds,” He’ll muse, mixing his pleasures with yours. When he robs a bank, the majority of his stolen dollars has been spent on you since you met him. Did your car get towed? He bought you a new one, along with the insurance. Need a new dress for the weekend? He’s got you sorted, along with heels and a bag to match. “Can’t have my bird in peasant clothes!” He protests, “Not with that cracken’ bod.” Queue the wink.

He loves showing you off, chuffed that he proved his doubters wrong that he could settle down and have a gorgeous significant other. “What they see in you, I don’t know . . .” They say, whether that be Deadshot, King Shark, heck even Amanda is amazed by it. He keeps candid polaroids of you in his pocket on the job, looking at them when he misses you. He squeezes the unicorn plushie you gifted him when he is stressed, anything to feel your presence when you’re half the world away. A shit-eating grin on his face when people tease him about his love for you, using it to embarrass him. “Awh, it’s puppy love,” Harley cooes, and Digger nods, all chuffed with himself.

Digger gave you the nickname “Birdie” because well . . . You’re a jailbird. He is in prison for heinous crimes, after all! Oh, is he touched-starved when you’re standing there, pretty face to the phone, separated by glass and talking in your voice that melts him like butter. His eyes are eating you up, desperate to have his hands on you. He’ll do all the suicide missions going to shred off the jail time, to get closer to the day his lips are kissing yours. Blackmailing Amanda to get you the best of the best, pay off college debt, holidays abroad, and spoil you when he cannot. “Oh, Birdie, when I get out of here I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.” He groans, drunk on love. All you do is smile, sliding a pack of Polaroids under the screen when the guards aren’t looking. “Have these to tide you over in the meantime,” you tease. Digger rushes back to his cell, flipping through the photos. First were of you in dresses that were his favourites, the type of ones that are flowy and floral, framing you so delicately. They get more desirable as he flips them over, and his eyes lull in lust.

Digger loves the dirty photos you send him, it drives him fucking insane. It’s good to keep you fresh in his mind, but it borders on teasing just having you to look at. He didn’t have the brightest imagination, but this was good practice. Imagine how soft your thighs are under his callous hands, what your lips taste like with the lipgloss you have on. Your delicate hands trace his bulge, your touch replacing his heavy-handed grasp. Bucking into your hands as he sucks your breasts, teasing your nipples, muttering how perfect you are. His sweet little birdie, all belonging to him. Your eagerness proves your devotion. You take his infamous size so well, your spit coating his cock as your tongue swirls around his pulsing tip. As he wanks himself off, muffling his groans, he has the faintest memory of your cunt. How wet you always were for him, how eager you bounced on his cock. His eyes closed as he pumped his cock faster, edging to the echoes of past moans you chanted in his ear.

#digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #ssktjl #ktjl #kill the justice league #arkhamverse #fanfic #smut

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yngtort · 5 months

Text

— toothache ❄️

♫ All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth ♫

kinkmas day 1

Fem!reader. mdni. 2.9kw. in which doctor bangchan fills your cavities and the entirety of your mouth.

It hurt like hell.

Exposed to the cold early morning air of the winter, your teeth ache in your mouth. The pain was so aggravating that it had you zooming through the icy roads, trying to get to the dentist as soon as possible.

You had a cavity.

It was obvious, but it still caught you off guard. You genuinely always took good care of your teeth. You brushed, flossed, washed, and even went the extra mile to buy that expensive LED teeth whitening thing from TikTok.

Your hygiene was top tier.

but you’re still pulling into the parking lot of diamond dental with your hand glued to the side of your face.

“Seungmin, I’m freaking the fuck out.” You mumbled into the phone as you hop out of your Nissan, locking it multiple times because you're that kind of person.

The type to worry over little things like a stolen car and dying in a dentist chair.

“It’s not that bad, y/n. You won’t even feel anything.” Your coworker, most importantly your best friend, tells you from the other end.

“You’re acting like you’ve never been to the dentist before.”

He’s right, you have been there— but just to get your teeth brushed a couple times and handed a sticker right after. Not, to be stabbed in the mouth with a needle.

“It’s just been a while and you know how I feel about people’s hands in my mouth.”

“I don’t like the way you worded that.” He faked gagged, “anyways, call me when you’re done, Kay?”

“Kay.” you replied, slightly disappointed as he hung up the phone. Leaving you to walk the path of shame into the dentist office alone.

After filling out an extensive amount of paperwork, anxiously shaking your leg for an hour, and losing a mean game of virtual uno— your name was finally called.

You were led to the back by a small lady whose steps were short but impactful. She was so fast, you couldn’t tell if you were a patient or a Maury cameraman.

“Go on in,” she gestured towards the basic oral operation room. You take a seat, awkwardly deciding to put your hands on your stomach.

fuck you’re scared shitless, and the woman seems to notice your discomfort as she tries to distract you with a small conversation. But your eyes are still trained on whatever the fuck she’s putting together.

You inadvertently move away as she holds a silicone piece to your lips, “open as wide as you can,” she instructed.

Gosh, this was embarrassing. You were almost considering letting your teeth rot. But no, that’s gross.

Once the what-ever-it’s-called is placed in your mouth, she brings over another contraption. You assume it’s just a glorified camera, which was correct.

after a few pictures of your teeth, which kinda hurt btw, the woman inspected the photo. “Looks like you have a cavity on one of your molars. Other than that, you take pretty good care of your teeth.”

Pretty good? You felt like your efforts deserved higher praise but whatever. She goes on to tell you what needs to be done and how long it will take.

You grimace at the details.

“The doctor will be with you shortly.” She told before promptly leaving.

And now you’re left in complete silence. Well, not exactly silence. There was some music playing in the back, falling in melody with the constant sound of mechanical wiring from people in the rooms over— probably getting the same procedure. It sounded like someone was dying in there, seriously.

Anxiety filled you to the brim as you considered darting out that room right that second.

But just as you’re about to swing yourself out of your seat, there’s a voice that enters the room.

“Hello, ms.y/n . I’m dr.bang, I’ll be taking care of you for the day.” The doctor says as he steps in-front of you and suddenly you don’t want to move from that seat anytime soon.

He’s an undeniable hottie, even in those generic dentist scrubs that everyone in the faculty sported. For some reason, he just sparkled in them. Maybe it was because of the bulging muscles and his tan skin— whatever it was, your mouth was watering.

“Hello,” you said rather dryly, still locked on the vain that ran down his toned arm.

The doctor gives you a smile, a bright one too, and pulls a seat next to yours. “I hear you have a cavity. Mind if i have a look?” He asks as if you really have a choice. like he’s not already lowering the back of your chair so he can get a good look at your pearly whites.

He goes in with a tiny mirror, holding your chin with his free hand as he inspects the cavity. “You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, hmm?” he asked, thumb gliding over your bottom lip.“suckers, perhaps?”

Damn, he called you out.

Now this may sound a little weird, but you’ve always had quite the addiction to lollipops — suckers, the tootsie pop ones specifically. it’s even gotten to the point where you have a jar of them waiting at home on your nightstand.

And it’s not even the flavor of candy itself, you just…like putting things in your mouth?

Moving on !

Dr.bang finally moves back, releasing your jaw that was just starting to hurt. “It's only a small cavity. just need to fill it in for ya and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Honestly, with a face like his, he could play in your hair for as long as he wanted to. Give it a few tugs while he’s at it.

“Okay, but um..” you gulp a bit, toying with the end of your jacket. “Are you gonna give me a shot? My mouth is a bit sensitive, and I was wondering if there were any other alternatives.”

The doctor chuckled softly hearing your concerns. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard something like this.

“Unfortunately, the numbing gel that we use wouldn’t be as effective for this procedure.” He said before placing his hand on your shoulder in a reassuring manner. “But I promise it’ll only hurt for a second. I’m sure you can take it, yeah?”

take what? him ? Or the damn needle?

You have no clue, but if he’s gonna talk to you like that, you feel like you could break through a wall if you put your mind to it.

The dirty thoughts don’t get any better throughout the rest of your time in that damn chair either. Dr.bang had quite the mouth on him.

“Open up for me” “atta girl.” “That’s it, just a bit more”, he would say this while fingers were damn there down your throat.

A bit of an overstatement, he’s drilling your teeth, but you wish was drilling his dick—

“All done.”

The back of your chair is lifted up and you try not to let your body slump over. You’ve been lying in that spot for about an hour and a half, teeth being tickled, and eyes being blinded by the dingy light above your head.

And yet, you don’t want to go home.

“Does everything feel okay, ms.y/n? Nothing bothering you?” he asks, removing his glasses and placing them in his —soft— hair.

You shake your head, “nope, just can’t feel my tongue.” You say, poking the side of your face, testing how much force it will take for you to actually start feeling it.

The doctor laughs at your comment, dimples on full display. “The numbness should wear off in a hour or so. Just try not to eat, don’t want you biting your tongue off.”

“Has that actually happened?” You asked, wide eyed and Mr.bang only laughed again.

“On occasion.” He told, “But you’re a smart girl, so I know you won’t disobey doctors orders.”

Does he get paid to talk like that? Or is he just written by a woman with daddy issues?

Both probably.

“Speaking of doctor orders, try to lay off the sugar, yeah? I’m sure you don’t want to see too much of me after today.”

—

“That was obviously an opening for you to flirt with him.” Seungmin scoffs as he closes the register.

You’re at your job, a small candy parlor called sweethearts, talking to your dear coworker about what transpired earlier that day. You didn’t spare him from the dirty laundry that harvested in your mind while you were getting the fill in. Seungmin doesn’t care tho, he’s not judgmental.

That, and you’re his only source of entertainment as the slow part of your shift comes around.

“Flirt? With the dentist? Isn’t there like a rule against that?” You asked, shifting the cherry flavored sucker in your mouth over to the other side of your cheek.

“For him, yeah” Seungmin shrugged, “but I doubt that anyone actually cares nowadays.”

“He’s probably in a relationship.” You popped the candy out your mouth, lips stained in a pretty red. “He’s too fine not to be.”

“And? ” he crossed his arms.

You blink at him a couple times, “I’m not fucking a taken man.”

“Loser.”

“You’re so-“ you sigh. “Whatever, just go restock something.” You push him from behind the counter.

The next few hours seemed to fade into each other as you stood absentmindedly behind the register. Seungmin had already clocked out since he got lucky and was offered a short shift for today. now you’re slouching at the register— phone in hand, while sucking on another tootsie pop.

“Just can’t stay away from those things, huh?” The voice grabs your attention with a force of seven suns.

you know that thick accent too well.

It had replayed in your head for the entirety of the day after your first encounter.

“D-Dr. bang?” you stutter, eyes round as you take in the man in front of you as he sets down a heart shaped box of chocolates.

“Chris.” he corrects, “I don’t like being called doctor outside the clinic. Makes me sound old.”

It makes him sound hot, in your opinion.

You nod a few times before clearing your throat, reminding yourself that you are on the clock.

”Christmas shopping?” you asked, still mentally going feral as gaze over his stature.

He’s dressed like a chase Atlantic song, how could you not ?

“Yes actually. I was looking for some small sweets to fill up a gift basket.”

“Oh” you perk, scanning the chocolates and placing them in a bag. “for your girlfriend?”

“No, don’t have one.” He says with a shrug, “it’s for my mom.”

A mamas boy ! Woo !

a spark of relief shoots through your body as you hear his words. You won’t have to be a homewrecker after all. Not saying that you were planning to but,, it’s just good to know.

“$6.58.” You tell and Chris follows through with the transaction. his hands brushes against yours as you pass the bag to him and you can’t help but blush like a schoolgirl.

“What about you?”

You blink, “what about me?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Is he showing interest too? Is that what this was?

“No, but I dont think these are the kind of questions doctors are supposed to ask.” you say teasingly.

“I’m just trying to get to know my patient better.”

“Uh huh, sure.” you raise an eyebrow, “got anything else you wanna ask?”

Chris crossed his arms, eyes flickering down to the stick that laid between your plump lips. The Candy was completely gone, leaving behind a blue hue on your mouth.

“Your obsession with suckers might’ve peaked my interest.” He told, “do they taste that good that you have to go against my orders?”

That's a really good question. it’s not the first time you’ve heard it, but it stumps you every time. You’re actually a savory kind of girl, like if you had to choose between pie or chips— you’re grabbing the saltiest bag you can find.

But it’s like all your life, you were always sucking on something. Your thumb, jawbreakers, ring pops— anything really.

“I don’t exactly know.” You start, thinking about how to word this. “It’s not exactly the taste…I just kind of like putting things in my mouth?”

Every part of you was expecting to be laughed at, but when not a chuckle left the man’s lips you were just confused.

“So you have an oral fixation?” He asks

“There’s a name for it?” “There’s a name for everything, love.”

“And how do you know all of this?” You push and Chris clicks his tongue.

“I’m a dentist, remember?” Chris takes a step closer, leaning against the counter. “I also know how to satisfy that urge you’ve been feeling.”

Oh.

—

you don’t remember how you ended up like this. pressed against the break room door, tongue tangled with a man you just met.

It’s a crazy situation, but honestly it’s not the wildest thing you’ve done.

your melting into his hold, kiss making you dizzy as if his saliva was laced with some kind of drug. it was absolutely intoxicating, the way his tongue explored every part of your mouth with no restraint.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet.” He mumbled against your lips.

Chris’s hands roam under your shirt. his cold palms against your warm skin sends a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps follow behind him with every contact as he massages and squeezes your curves.

He pulls back from the kiss and you couldn’t help but whine at the sudden detachment. You try to get him back, but his hand grabs your jaw.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I got something to fill that dirty mouth of yours.” He coaxes, thumb brushing your swollen lips. “On your knees.”

You take to the floor with no questions asked, eyes coming in direct contact with his bulge and you can’t help but wonder that would even fit in your mouth.

But you won’t back down from the challenge. Your hands almost beggingly climb up his thighs as you look up at him, silently asking for permission.

“If there’s something you want, say it.” Chris tells, head tilted to the side in such an attractive way.

You lean your face up against his leg, “can I put it in my mouth?”

The older grins, “Of course, baby.” He says before unzipping his pants and letting them drop to the floor.

You gulp at how thick his thighs are. Just imagine riding them, wetness dripping all over his skin.

And that’s not even the main event.

his boxers were wrapped so tightly around his dick, each inch was on display and it had your mouth watering. you wasted no time pulling them down, watching it pop up as it’s freed.

“ So big.” You whispered in awe before taking the base into your hands and guiding it to your lips.

“open up for me, love” Chris instructed and you do as told, parting your lips and taking him into your mouth.

the man above lets out a low groan as he's stuffed down your throat. He’s a little surprised at how easily you're handling his girth, lips wrapped around him so snuggly without a single gag.

“Just like that, good girl,” he praises as you suck him like a lollipop. “taking it so well.”

Your head bobbed at a generous rate, hands gripped onto his thighs while you slobbered over his dick. It was such a lewd scene to witness. only worsening when Chris grabs you by your hair, stopping your movements before he takes full control.

his hips reel away before slamming back into your face, fucking your mouth roughly. you whimpered as the head of his dick jabbed the back of your throat repeatedly.

Tears started to well up in your eyes from the harshness of his thrusts. Your throat was rubbed raw and there was an extreme ache in your jaw, but you can’t help being more aroused by the pain. The feeling of being tortured orally had your panties soaked.

So it’s only natural that one of your hands was tucked between your thighs, kneading your clothed clit between your fingers.

“Pretty lil mouth must feel so good finally being used, yea? been practicing on those stupid suckers just for this?” Chris asks cockily, knowing he’d never receive an answer.

He fucks you until his dick is twichting uncontrollably on your tounge, ready to release his thick seed down your throat. But before he even gives you the satisfaction, he yanks back, dick leaving your mouth with a pop.

He decided he’d rather see his cum painting your face than having it disappear without a trace. So he pumps himself in sync with your fingers that were still buried in your pants.

It’s only a matter of seconds before his white ropes drench your face— tongue, lips, lashes— all covered in his mess.

“Fuck” he curses and says something else, but you can comprehend. You're too deep in a daze.

“Y/n.” He calls and calls and calls and calls—

until suddenly his voice loses that thick Aussie accent and instead starts sounding more like your coworker.

“Yo, y/n? I'm gonna clock out soon.” Seungmin says waving his hands in front of your face, “your break was over 30 minutes ago.”

“W-what the fuck???” You blink, still confused and the male just sighs.

“You and your daydreams, man.”

Kinkmas has finally started ! hope you guys enjoyed day 1. I had to quickly cut it short because I type too much and I definitely wouldn’t make the deadline if I continued. That being said, if you would like me to continue toothache as a series just let me know !

— sincerely nni

Tinytag list (open) : @sydnerss @sunnyyangie @foxinnie8 @panjakes

#kpop fanfic #stray kids imagines #kpop imagines #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #straykids x reader #bangchanxreader #bangchan x you #bangchan smut #straykids smut #kinkmas stray kids #kinkmas #chris bang

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atinylittlepain · 3 months

Text

Warm

college!steve harrington x f!oc

series masterlist

Steve gets flustered in an art museum. She kind of likes it.

18+ smut, normal hairy female bodies, steve is kind of a perv in the best way, smut duh, and verrryyyyyy sweet, also robin and eddie being good roommates

note: the painting that Andy and Steve look at is called l'origine du monde by Gustave Corbet and you can check it out here. This fic is for bush (not the president) and bush only, thanks.

.............................................................................

Steve is a good guy, right? Right. Respectful, respectable, two percent in his cheerios in the morning, light wash denim and clean sneakers, and he flosses two times a day, clean bill at every dentist appointment and he shows it, curls half a smile when he holds the door open for girls on campus, all ease, all-American and alright. Studying business, and of course he is, though his parents don’t know about the women’s studies minor he picked up all because of a flushed little crush on a professor that never amounted to anything, coupled with Robin strong-arming him into taking a few more classes with her. But that’s okay, he likes the classes, and he likes the classmates.

“Do you need a partner?”

“Hmm? Oh, I was just going to work alone actually.” Big scarf tucked up around her neck and a big coat wrapped up around her and she barely even glances at him down the slope of her nose, already refocusing on the painting in front of her. But he’s a good guy, right? Right. A real team player, tilting his head, and letting his hair fall into his face, a little shy, a little smile. She glances at him, unimpressed hook of her brow and her eyelashes lifting up over the rims of her glasses. Her name is Andy, he knows, though they haven’t spoken, at least not directly. She’s been known to correct him in class however, her hand raising after his, quick and cutting. He maybe, kinda, sorta likes that.

“I think we’re supposed to, you know, discuss what we’re looking at with each other for the VHS thing.”

“VTS.”

“What?”

“It’s called VTS. Visual thinking strategies. Are you sure you want to discuss this painting with me?”

“I’m game if you are.” She smiles, and he’s already thinking about which of her palms he’d like to write his number on. But when he finally looks at the painting, he finds himself to be a lot less concerned with his phone number.

“So, Steve, what’s the first thing you notice about this painting?”

“Um, well, I–”

“Is it too much for you?” Heat is prickling in a bloom up his neck, her smile sharp as her eyes flit between him and the painting, the painting that he really should have looked at before approaching her.

“No, no, it’s not too much. It’s– appreciation of the female form, right?” He’s not sure where to look any more, a strange kaleidoscope with how quickly his eyes are darting between scraps of the painting and her face. A freckle under her eye, and then swaths of cream and pink brush strokes and then the hitch in her cheek where her smile curves and then, and then.

“Hair.” His voice pitches and cracks somewhere in the word, turning one syllable into two like a hiccup. She laughs a clipped sound.

“Hair?”

“Around her– around her–”

“Around her cunt?” Something hot tightens in his chest, maybe shame, though shame doesn’t feel good like this does. He feels foolish, the quick whip of his head around like he’s worried they’re going to get caught, though for what he isn’t sure. Likewise, he has no clue what’s causing this devastating fluster, this feathering of heat. Whatever it is, it’s making it very hard to look at her, though the way his gaze has fixed on the painting doesn’t feel much better either. He’s never heard a woman use that word before. Actually, scratch that, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone use that word before, not in Hawkins, at least, not corn fed and halfway bible bred, at least. It sets something slick shimmering inside of him, something warm that’s making it hard to think.

“Are you blushing?”

“I’m not, I’m just appreciating the work.”

“L’origine du monde.”

“What was that?”

“That’s the name of the painting. Origin of the world.”

“Well, that, uh, I guess that tracks.”

“It’s a shame, don’t you think?” When he does finally look at her again, she’s smiling, all ease, all cool, and him anything but, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm into his hip.

“What’s a shame?” She sighs, a long sound, letting her neck roll to the side so her cheek scrunches into the plush of her scarf, a wistful look.

“The current trends. Looking like prepubescent girls. No hips, bald vaginas, everything so… sterile.” She speaks with a bluntness that winds him, if he’s being honest, her expression schooled, and maybe a little disillusioned, brow pinched and mouth pulling down in a grimace.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Yeah, well, you have a cock. Makes things a little simpler, doesn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, do you always talk like this?” He says it just a little too loud, a little too breathless, heads turning in the gallery around them, and he thinks he might regret even trying with this girl. Should’ve stuck with the tried and true, that blonde girl that wears sticky sweet lip gloss and smiles at him from across the room during lectures. But this girl, with her arched brow and her twitching smile and the dark flicker of nail polish when she smooths the throat of her scarf. This girl has his number, and not in the way he’d like her to.

“What do you prefer, Steve? Do you like a girl with a smooth shave?”

“Well I think that, um, a woman’s body is her own choice.” And it has to be the dumbest string of words he’s ever said, breathed out on two static exhales, a garbled parroting of what he’s learned in these classes, right? Well, sort of.

“How progressive of you.”

“But the painting is really, you know, it’s, um, it feels warm?” Not sure where that came from, another fresh flood of heat rising and buoying up into his cheeks. Though her expression seems to soften, her smirk falling into something lighter. Maybe, maybe, he got one right.

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean. There’s a softness to it that’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Mmhmm.”

“But also a strength, a frankness to it.”

“Yes, yeah.” That sick swirl of shame but not shame is receding, and only leaving a nice sort of haze in its place, his head lolling a little, eyes raking over the painting, the catch of light, the soft rounding of a body at rest, slumped and plush and kind of perfect, he thinks. Although he’s pretty sure Andy would correct him for perfect, perfect not being the point, because perfect is oppressive, right? Right. Fuck perfect, he thinks, this is something better than perfect. And maybe she is too.

“Steve?” Her hand on his arm, purple nail polish and a close-lipped smile snapping him back into his body, hmm? And her smile spreads, and the warmth does too, and she’s saying something about the prof calling them back together and he’s mmhmm-ing on the heels of her brown leather boots. And she sits next to him when they get back on the bus, Robin giving him a stink eye that breezes right over the top of his head as she passes down the aisle because he’s a little busy trying to take discreet inhales through his nose of whatever perfume Andy wears, spice and strong and warm, that same warm.

And it isn’t his number that gets jotted onto her palm, but her address that she scrawls onto the soft inside of his wrist, right over the catch and jump of his pulse, because she has invited him over for a drink tonight to continue our conversation from earlier.

Robin doesn’t even have a chance to snit at him for leaving her stranded to the back of the bus because he’s already shuffling her along by the crooked wing of his elbow, hands tucked down deep in his jacket pockets, snow starting to flit and fall from the gray hang of sky.

“I need your help.”

“You have a date.”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s a date. She was like, rubbing your wrist. That’s a date.”

“I need your help.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Because Andy is not light washed denim and polo shirts and two percent milk. He’s seen her in the campus coffee shop, she takes soy, sometimes almond, for the record. So when they get back to their apartment, the smell of electric heat washing over them and curling in their lungs, they don’t go to Steve’s closet, they go to Robin’s.

Robin’s first pull is a turtleneck. He scoffs.

“What? Turtleneck dudes are definitely that chick’s type. Are you kidding me right now?” And when he assures her that he is, in fact, not kidding her right now, Robin starts to rummage again, eventually coming back out with a t-shirt for a band that Steve only knows because he has asked Robin to turn their music down on several occasions. And before he can say anything Robin is please hold-ing him and shouting down the hall for Eddie.

“What?”

“Steve has a date with a cool girl.”

“Cool girl, what cool girl?”

“Soc major, with the boots.”A little flurry of activity, socked feet slipping down the hall and Eddie hanging off the doorframe of his room, Steve not able to get a word in edgewise between their rapid fire volley.

“No, really? Little different for you, man, isn’t it?”

“I–”

“We need your closet, excuse us.” Robin on the warpath and Eddie grinning big, and Steve somewhere in the middle.

“How’d this happen?”

“She–”

“They were talking about art.” Robin reappearing with a long-sleeved thermal gripped in her other hand, eyebrows waggling.

“Steven? Our Steven? Talking about art? Well, well, well.” If he just had time he’d say something back to Eddie about how he got kicked out of the art museum last weekend for making quacking noises every time the security guard took a step, but Robin is already ushering him back down the hall, into his room this time, shoving the bundle of clothes into his chest and slamming the door shut on her way out.

Eddie is anemic and tends to eat breakfast when the sun is going down, and Robin is Robin, so it’s a tight fit getting the thermal on, followed by the t-shirt. But looking in the mirror, he thinks he likes it, gives an experimental and not at all vain flex of his arms that makes the sleeves of the tshirt roll back up toward the round of his shoulders and yeah, he likes that. And when he steps out of his room, Robin and Eddie already hovering and humming their approval, that warmth starts to build and bloom all over again.

And the rest is a little hazy from there. Robin offers him two refrigerator-chilled potstickers from last night’s dinner, something about fuel for your evening, Stevening, while Eddie pours himself a bowl of corn pops and prattles about something he learned in his music theory class, dissonance and skipped beats, and Steve can understand the feeling. And then they’re both kicking him out with an all too solemn godspeed, soldier. Eddie even salutes him.

Andy lives on the opposite side of campus in a cropping of apartments in a building that looks kind of like a castle, old brownstone and wrought iron. She buzzes him up, opens the door in a thin turtleneck and jeans, her head tilting and her lip pouting, just a little.

“Where’d the polo shirt go?”

“I changed.” Excellent, he thinks, how astute of him. She smiles.

“I can see. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Bikini Kill fan though.” He’s trying to focus on her as she leads him deeper into her apartment, though his eyes still wander. Old wood flooring that’s barely visible underneath the thick swaths of patterned rugs. A crushed velvet, lime green sofa sitting in front of a fireplace that’s packed full with books. The kitchen is tucked into a corner, a little patch of black and white linoleum, old appliances. She’s pouring wine at the counter with her foot pressed into her other calf in a sort of shortened tree pose, and she’s asking him if he likes red, and he nods, all the while thinking to himself that he hasn’t consumed enough wine that doesn’t come in boxes to really care what color it is.

They sit down on the lime green sofa, her arm draped over the back of it, fingers tipped toward him. And he’s trying not to be such a dweeb about it, really, he’s not, but it only takes a few bashful glances to know that she very much is not wearing a bra. And he likes that, likes that a lot. Likes the soft curve and fold of her stomach with the way she’s turned toward him, the stretch of her jeans at her hips, her thighs, and his mouth goes dry around a gulp of wine when he starts to think about that painting again, and he starts to think about her, and he starts to think about her and the painting together. He starts to wonder, to wonder, to wonder what similarities he might find between the two.

There’s conversation, quiet and meandering and murmuring, their mouths staining dark and rosy from the wine, bodies turning warm and pliant and inching closer, closer, closer. And it all starts to melt, empty glasses set aside and her hand slipping into the back of his hair and she’s going to be the one in control, isn’t she? Fine by him, lax and languid in her hands, letting her tilt his face toward her. The first kiss is surprisingly sweet, just a peck to the corner of his mouth that makes him breathe hard through his nose in a petty huff of anticipation. She grins, lets the next one take its time, a little deeper, a little more heat, open mouth against open mouth, and he groans when her tongue slips behind his teeth.

This would be enough, he thinks. This time, at least. Her settling into his lap, little pants of breath between the wet snap of lips and spit and tongues. His hands squeeze at her thighs, coaxing a skittering sound from her throat when he reaches back and cups her ass, fingers splayed and pressing petulant. He’s going to feel her fingers in his scalp for a few days, the little hurts, little pulls. The next time she pulls away she presses her hand into his chest to keep him at bay, even as he tilts his chin up, feeling young in his eagerness as she smiles wide-eyed at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Both of them whispering, and when they both realize they don’t know why they’re whispering, both of them giggling, getting away with something when she pulls him up off the couch and into her bedroom.

“Why is this shirt so tight?” She huffs it out with the tshirt halfway rucked up his torso, his hair falling in his face as he curls over trying to help her get it off, both of them breathing out a laugh when the fabric finally is up and over and off of him.

“Oh baby, your hair.” He likes baby, baby feels good, feels like another warm bloom in his chest, his smile turning sheepish when she reaches both hands into his hair, shaking it out at the roots before smoothing it back for him. He chases after her hand, manages to press a kiss to her palm before she’s reaching for the hem of his, Eddie’s, thermal. It comes off easier, quieter, her eyes softening as she takes in his bare chest, catching him off guard when she ducks her head down to press a kiss to the dip that connects the lines of his collar bone, there and gone, little sweetness, little warmth as she steps back and grins.

“Do you wanna lay down for me?” Not even a thought, just ligament and muscle moving, some sort of game dancing between their eyes as he settles back on his elbows against the dark fabric of her duvet. He watches the fine flicker of her fingers make deft work of the buttons of her jeans. An absent-minded thing, the heel of his palm pressed to the ache, to the heat. He’s already hard, already smearing warm against the front of his boxers watching her step out of her jeans.

“Oh fuck, honey.” A little pained, the sweet prickle of agony, of being right. A vision somewhere between obscenity and divinity, he thinks, though that would be playing into the madonna-whore complex their professor was lecturing about last week. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care about much of anything except continuing to look at Andy, the soft divot at her waist where her white cotton thong settles against the soft curve of skin, and the dark bloom of curls along the sides of the material where her thighs touch. He was right, and now he’s doomed.

She smiles, finger hooking in the hem of her shirt and pulling it up just a little, exposing the sweet dip and swell of her stomach, and suddenly he’s not so interested in just laying back any more. Greedy, he feels the slick, desperate curl of it in his gut. Greedy when he shuffles up onto his knees and crawls to the end of the bed. Greedy when his hands curl at the fat of her hips and he pulls her in closer so he can press the open heat of his mouth just above her navel, soft and warm and he wants more of it, of her. She sighs, a long, languid sound that he wants to hear more of, dipping his head down to mouth at the jut of her hip, dampening the fabric slung taut there.

Limbs tangled with limbs, some of it graceless, awkward, some of it perfect motion. She lays out like a painting, like the painting, for him, her turtleneck curled up around her sternum so he can palm a handful of her breast, settling down between her thighs and wasting no time in dragging his tongue through her cunt.

She wasn’t wrong about the trends. Hairless bodies, smooth bodies, flinchingly pristine bodies. And that’s fine, he thinks, been with plenty of bodies like that, made his body like that for a while too. But he likes this, likes her, the sense and sate of it, the scent of it, even if it makes him a pervert, lapping at her while he curls two fingers inside her. And somewhere in the simpering sear of it, his hips have started to jerk and stutter into the mattress beneath him, picking up a stilted speed when she starts to moan, clipped sounds and his name and he wants it and he wants it and he wants it so bad. She comes with a long sigh that cracks high into a whine, her thighs tensing and slackening around his face. And he feels a warmth of his own, relief of his own, though the reality of what he did turns him sheepish, pressing a bashful smile into the swell of her inner thigh.

“Did you?” Her words crackle breathless with her grin, peering down at him from behind her forearm and he can barely look at her, turning his face back into her skin, letting his teeth graze there a little mean.

“Maybe, shut up.” Her laugh bursts and bubbles up, her head tossed back, eyes crinkled shut as he crawls up and up and up, not evening minding the uncomfortable cooling in his jeans when he presses a sloppy kiss to her mouth, turning her laugh into a satisfied hum.

“Hmm, kinda feminist of you coming in your jeans just from eating me out.” Speechless, and he kind of likes it, huffing out a breathless laugh as he watches the cartoonish jump of her eyebrows. He presses a kiss between them, sweet and simple, warm all over when he pulls back to find her smiling at him.

“I like you, a lot.” That whispering thing again, a little shy, a little young, and a little uncertain. But there’s no need for it, not when she tilts her chin up and presses a kiss to his cheek, the round of it, the warmth of it.

“I like you too, Steve.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington ficlet #steve harrington au

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bruciemilf · 11 months

Text

A crack treated seriously concept that I have just swimming in my mind;

Runaway sugar baby Bruce Wayne AU.

Here's the thing; Bruce and Harvey are married. Bruce may not realize they are! but they are.

Oblivious fucker really went,

" yes, I will have children with my best friend, raise them together happily, occasionally have sex, and wear this cool ring he gave me. Platonically, of course."

I think it all started when Tim came home from school, wearing a bit of a guilty expression, asking with a pinch embarrassment if Bruce could pretend to be a doctor for career day.

Bruce blinks, " I am a doctor, darling." Graduated with flying colors, mind you!

"Well, yeah, but...You know, not anymore. "

True. Ever since he adopted Jason and Tim, he just found it harder and harder to leave home. They were just too precious and he didn't want to miss a moment!

"I just don't understand why he'd lie about it."

"I can," Harvey looks so handsome, arranging his tie. He does a mess of it, but he doesn't look less tantalising,

" Little brats would be...Yknow, mean. They get finicky when they see a weak spot."

He knows it's Harvey because there's no accent melting like whisky on his mouth. " Weak spot?"

" doll, cmon, --"

" I do work, Harvey. Just because it's not defending criminals doesn't mean it's less vital."

" I knowthat. But you're also a rich guy who, let's face it, wouldn't need to work a day In his life. And that's fine by me. "

because Harvey HATED seeing his mom break her back to support their family when his father was drowning face down in debts.

He wouldn't put anyone through that, let alone his pretty little husband. But Bruce doesn't take this well.

" well! I'll show you! I'm more than capable of making it on my own, I'll prove it!"

Now. Bruce doesn't think too much. He's not an expert in it. Man can stitch up a 5 inch incision with floss, but his own well being? Leave it to Alfred.

But he'll make them proud. So next time, they don't have to lie.

He just packs up way too many luggages, packs Damian up too, and leaves while Harvey's at oh his back breaking, gruelling office job.

It's only when he's on a bus that he realizes he forgot the rest, but that'd be cruel! Their boys loved their father.

Dick, who's in his I Hate Dad phase, is extremely hysterical while they leave to find Bruce. Only stopping occasionally to fix his eyeliner, then start over again.

Jason, Harvey's second oldest, drives beside them on his motorbike.

He guesses its an extra middle finger to him to not wear a helmet. His beloved little hellion, raised on the devil's edge.

"Listen to me; If I find him, I'm moving back home. If I don't, I'll put you in the ground."

" I'll let you."

Now; Bruce does find a place. It's a little town with big characters.

Harley has a diner that she's more than happy to welcome him in, even if Bruce, Spoiled Spouse of the Year, can't quite pick up.

Anything for old roomies.

But there is someone in there who catches Bruce's attention. Towns mechanic.

Clark, his name tag says, who played with Damian behind Bruce's back while he talked to Harley.

He smells of salty motor oil; Fresh sweat, smoked apple pie. His eyes are dreamy blue, rendered with sharp cleverness. And Clark likes him.

Clark recommends him a good motel, brings Damian some toys to play with, even brings his own babies so they can have a playdate. " They're not mine. The toys! These two are. I have a receipt from the hospital."

"...A birth certificate?"

He's delightfully awkward.

When Harvey comes to pick him up, when Bruce jumps in his arms, claws at a pristine shirt stained with his brand new blisters and cracks and worked hands, he's not awkward.

He's disappointed; Like Bruce strangled the joy from his soul.

"You're...Married?"

When Bruce and Harvey respond, in perfect, consice sync, " Oh no, darling,--" " Yes he is, four eyes--" they're ALL confused.

"Oh, dear..."

#bruce wayne #dc #dc comics #dick grayson #tim drake #harvey dent #clark kent #bruharvey #superbat #runaway sugar baby au #no capes au #text #text post #batfamily #batfam #jason todd

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blondieeu · 2 months

Text

passions playground. choso k.

choso who's obsessed with the stripper he met last week at the club.

"don't even know how I..found myself here." he started off when you came up to him, fluffy white floss stuck to your body as you sat on his lap and put your arm around his neck.

choso tighted his collar with a quick swallow and tried his best to keep the intense eye contact you were sharing with him. he was starting to sweat a little.

"you ever been to passion's playground before honey?"

he shook his head no quickly, taking note of the heavy Texas accent that was embedded into your pretty voice. he sat as watched as you wrapped his hand around your body, letting his fingers rest on the strap to your panties.

"wanna spend some money?"

choso looked up at you with another nod, almost drooling taking quick looks at your boobs pressed up against him. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from your lip gloss, he wanted to see if it tasted like vanilla too.

choso wasn't even supposed to be here right now. Just getting a new job at a fancy office the day before and some of his older, bad influence co-workers (gojo and toji) decided to take him to the strip club after making a joke on how choso may as well be a virgin.

but the thing was, when they got there and had a couple drinks, both of them went off into private rooms and left him all by his lonesome.

"well lets make a memory you'll never forget, yeah? choso?"

your fingers grazed the name tag pinned onto the expensive suit he wore. The man could only watch you, mesmerized by your brown skin and how pretty the glitter on your eyelids were under the flashing blue, pink and purple lights of the club.

"let me make you a v.i.p , cutie"

blondieeu xx

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bruisedboys · 1 year

Note

congratulations on the milestone!! is it possible to get a jupiter with steve harrington and the prompt “jawline kisses”?

thank you!! and omg this prompt with steve was heavenly, ily

summary: steve gets some jawline kisses. fluff, established relationship

gn!reader 700 words

It was the kind of kissing that made you dizzy. The kind that tasted like candy floss melting on your tongue and sounded like poorly contained giddy laughter. You almost couldn’t breathe, your head swimming with lack of air and too much love, but you didn’t care.

Your hands were buried in Steve’s hair, fingers all tangled in his soft unruly locks, nails scratching gently at his scalp. His hands were on you, on every inch of you he could reach. Your thighs, spread overtop his own, your hips poised just above his, and now they were sneaking under your shirt, palms smoothing over the soft skin of your stomach and waist.

You sighed so dreamily you would’ve been embarrassed if you’d been with anyone but Steve. With Steve it didn’t matter, the sounds you got out of each other were music to the other’s ears.

Steve mumbled something unintelligible against your lips, a low hum that vibrated on your mouth. You giggled, pushed back just a millimetre to give yourself space to talk. Your hands dropped to his shoulders.

“What?” You were so breathless it came out as a raspy whisper.

Steve was no better. He sounded half drunk when he finally got the words out, chest heaving. “I said, what do you want for dinner?”

You snorted, then fell into a round of sticky giggles that were hard to get rid of. Steve grinned lazily.

“You’re dumb,” you told him, your tone nothing but fondness. “You’re kissing me stupid and you want to know what I want for dinner?”

Steve looked offended. He pouted, his swollen, kiss-raw lips pushed out dramatically. “Well, yeah, I’m hungry. Look, we could have pizza, or Chinese, or I could make that soup you like …”

Steve’s list of dinner options suddenly became unimportant as but your eyes caught on the freckles that decorated his cheekbone and trailed down to his jaw. Like little constellations on his skin, they begged to be kissed and touched and loved. You tried to listen to his mini rant, you really did, but you couldn’t help it — you leaned in while he was still talking nonsense and pressed a kiss to his jawline, right on a patch of freckles.

Steve’s breath caught and he trailed off, dinner plans all but forgotten. You smiled against his skin, kissed the same smattering of freckles, this time longer and sweeter.

“What are you doing?” He asked, sounding breathless and somewhat anguished. His hands found your hips and he pulled you closer on his lap, your hipbones pressing into his stomach. He obviously didn’t mind whatever you were up to.

“Nothing,” you said innocently. You pulled away, met his frazzled eyes and brushed your fingers over the spot you’d just kissed. “You have four freckles right here, did you know?”

"Yeah," he breathed, looking like he maybe hadn't even heard what you said at all.

"They're pretty."

Steve made a noise that sounded like something was stuck in his throat. You grinned, leaned in again and fit your mouth to his jaw. If anything his speechlessness encouraged you, and you spread your mouth over his jawline, bottom lip pushing underneath the bone while your top lip spread over the top, his skin smooth and velvety under your lips. You left a trail of precise, blazing kisses along his jaw, lips warm and sticky with fondness.

Your tongue brushed over his hot skin and he audibly sighed, shoulders going slack under your hands, more melting popsicle than boy. A moment later his hands were on the move - he must've decided it was his turn to undo you, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt and climbing fast. You pulled away abruptly when his fingertips reached your chest, hands dropping to his wrists, your t-shirt halfway up your torso and rising.

"Steve," you chided, breathless and giddy, lips swollen. You gave a half-hearted tug at his wrists but he didn't budge. You didn't really want him to. "Dinner."

Steve met your eyes, your equally heavy breaths mingling in the small space between you. His jaw was shining with your kisses. "M'not hungry anymore."

#★ mal writes!#✿ 300 celebration!#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #✉️#stevesmixtape!

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v1x3n · 5 months

Text

concert findings noncon!

kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader masterlist

the lights were blaring the music was loud as you swiftly dance your hips across the dancefloor, the loud sounds vibrate from the stage to across the floor to create a small hurt in your heel. or it could be the amount of hours you had spent swaying your body to the everlasting music - but anyway you had decided you were tired. slumping down to a table with a few others, your eye catches this guy's figure.

The man was strong and his shirt was well fitted - clinging onto his body while he moved to see you staring at him. “I like your makeup,” he screams over the music, trying to get you to hear his compliment.

“oh! thank you!” you shout back as he shuffled closer to you. the first thing you noticed was his smile, fuck it was beautiful. or the first thing you had noticed was his pretty ass doe eyes, either way you had already gotten interested. “what you drinkin?” asking as you peer down to his cup, trying to just make conversation. He had simply passed the drink along to you as if to say ‘guess yourself’. beer, he was drinking beer.

“oh shite yeh, what's your name?” almost panic blasting through his voice, he grabs his drink back to take a strong swig. “y/n, you?”

“Kyle.”

the conversation starts flowing more and more as you sit down together interested in what each others saying. getting to know each other more as he asks, “so you here with anyone?boyfriend perhaps?”

it's been a long time since anyone had asked anything of the sorts, out of pure shock you had just stared at him - almost confused at his question. “uh no.” you reply with a high amount of confusion. “how come?”

you sound out a small confused sound, a small hum. it's almost ss if he gets off of confusing you with the way this conversation was going, “just haven't met anyone good i guess” a small chuckles follows the sentence. looking over at him as he chuckles along with you a hoarse but sweet laugh - you couldnt tell if he was laughing with you or at you but nonetheless his laugh had just cheered you up. it was sweet the same sweetness candy floss is,luscious and soft almost. “well your a beautiful lass, hard to believe you dont got a lad.” the british accent forming through his words. you giggle at his Flirtatious message as he takes a strong sip from his beer. blush revolves around your cheeks, you push your hair behind your esr - signalling that you were interested.

“let me get you a drink, hm?” without even replying he had already patted your shoulder to say he was going and he had set off.

you haven't felt the way your stomach was twirling in ages, almost too long. sure you had been in relationships but nothing felt like this, noone had really flirted like this with you and it was almost too good to be true to be honest. The music halts while the next song is preparing, the audience cheers and fires up with an uproar as you see Kyle emerge through the group.

“im back luv.” talking with you as if you had been married for years, embarrassing to admit but it had made you blush. “you really didn't need too” you reply as he gives you the cocktail he had just ordered for you.

he smiles softly at you as he encouraged you to take a sip, god he was so kind. you could just fall in love right then. taking a small sip as he almost cheers you on you look over to the crowd, who was currently jumping and dancing around at the start of the new song. “it's good!” half laughing through your words and he takes a seat back down next to you.

“Are you here with anyone?” reciprocating the question he had asked earlier back at him.

“no im not, think i'd buy you a drink if i was tied down?” he jokingly scoffs as you giggle at your silliness, “so how long you liked em for?” you glared at him confused -yet again, then you had realised what he was talking about. the band. ofc.

“a year? perhaps, you?” you babbled as he looked at you, no into your soul almost. his pretty ass eyes were just breathtaking, it was like they could sense all your fears from how vibrantly they looked at you. “you dont look like you're into this type of music if i'm honest” a breathless laugh followed from you and him.

“what music would you think i listen to then?country music maybe?” you giggle at that shitty joke, fully engaged in him. “no its just, i wouldn't expect someone like you here.”

“increasingly handsome?” he jokes and once more you giggle. the type if laugh you expect a girl who is madly in love with you to make. taking a small chug of the cocktail he had previously bought you ad you look down into the colourful splash of alcohol. “what's in this?” your head feels… heavier, looking down into the drink then glossing your eyes back up at him to see him chuckling breathlessly and grinning at you. “its- hah, quite strong!” gulping and exclaiming at the same time, you had took another sip as he does the same with his beer. A dizzy rash persits around your eyes, a deep haze. maybe it was just… oh idk dehydration? you take another sip then you…

“fuck!” waking up to a familiar voice in front of you, groaning out in pain. No, not pain. pleasure?

the fizz around your mind slowly clears as you dot your eyes around the place to see kyle in front of you. “k-kyle?” you grunt as you figure out the predicament you had gotten yourself into. “shit your awake” calm panic setting into his voice has your sensations come back to you, peering down at a thrusting feel to see kyle. thrust in, thrust out and again, then again and on going. your mewls getting more high pitched the longer he goes on. “god your so good love.” the praise as he piledrives into you, acting as you were his personal fleshlight, he bangs his cock into you over and over again. “s-stop..!” a small whine hardly fumbles from your mouth, tears dragging down your face from the rough abuse you were getting. kyle had pinned you to the wall, your legs folded up against your body. your gags from the amount of tears you had cried was overbearing.

“your so so good , being such a- fuck! such a good girl.” grunting through the constantly painfully pleasurable thrusts. “god your amazing baby.'' His groans turn into low whines as he gets closer to the edge. He soon twists positions and somehow reaches his girthy cock further into your cunt. reaching the right spot which made you gasp and tighten around his length. you mewl once again and moan out in pleasure, the sensation of him using you as a toy could almost make you cum just from that. your wetness squirts around his cock as he thrusts harder, making your pussy turn into a messy, sensitive mess. each touch to it makes you whimper.

between him muttering ‘god,god,god’ and your moans there wasn't much of a chance to say anything else, he then reaches to touch your clit. tightening up once again and trying to squirm away he holds down onto your clit. “Come on dont run away, you're a good lil plaything for me.” groaning to himself as he slowly pets your clit, his cock stopping inside of you and cockwarming you. a knot forming inside your stomach as his digits enter you, filled with his cock and now 2 of his fingers. “n-no!” whimpering yet again as he moves his fingers inside of you. He moves forward and grits his teeth onto your neck, folding you completely in half as he does so, the dizziness that formed in your head had fully cleared by now. Now you are awake and fully well knowing of the situation. “im-” you cry out as you reach your high as he fingers the tight space you have left in your cunt. Then there it was , the sweet juice spilling out around his cock and fingers as he takes both of them out - creating a white stringy mess following it. “well done baby, you- shit your pussy so good.” he mutters again as he shoves himself back inside of you harder and deeper than before .

creating a ‘mmhh!!’ sound as he pounds into you as fast as he could, “the-there please!” you moan as he hits your sweet, sensitive spot. he whines roughly as he grinds harder and harder in the place he wanted. crying out louder and louder as he bites down onto your neck, creating a small bite mark and a bruise just coming in, a small amount of blood pouring from the spots he had bitten. “im guna fill you up love.” he warns as he takes one final thrust into you and finishes, his hot liquid spilling from out of you and creating a small pool underneath you, it had filled you up so much there wasn't anywhere else for it to go. the heat of everything created another blur- cock drunk from him as he pets your hair and shoves your face down to the floor - just underneath his cock.

“clean your slutty mess up then hm?”

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fungusgnat444 · 3 months

Text

Vampire König headcanons

Just a few hcs for y’all xo. The first part of the series should be done relatively soon so I thought I’d post this to keep you guys hungry lolWarnings: hes a vampire so minor mentions of blood. Nothing super intense tho. Reader is a medic/doctor so medical stuff I guess, könig being delusional and mildly creepy. I think that's it enjoy. Also almost forgot fem reader

-extremely standoffish at first. To the point where you think he probably hates you. In reality he’s obsessed; he just has no idea how to talk to women (it’s been several hundred years since he's had to “court” so he tries his best to keep you at arms length. This doesn’t work very well of course)

-before he turned his family were all poor farmers so he could never have sweet treats as a kid since suger was pretty much only for the rich at the time. So now he has a massive sweet tooth and is regularly gorging himself on sweets.

-in the 1400’s he took the alias Matthias Grunewald, moved to germany and became a painter (Matthias grunewald was a real artist. My history nerd brain couldn’t help throwing that in there. One of my favourite artists tbh)

-since you’re new to Austria he offers to teach you German just to have an excuse to talk to you but he's delusional enough to convince himself it’s to help you. Of course the first thing he teaches you is how to say König correctly. It’s just so annoying to hear you mispronounce it of course… no other reason.

-refuses to take his mask off when you have to examine him so you have to roll it up just above his top lip. Extremely insecure about his appearance but his face in particular because of all the scars. Plus he has a cleft lip scar that he used to get bullied for.

-he has basically no friends apart from Horangi so he spends most of his time alone painting and watching old German films. His favourite is The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (its really good y’all should totally watch it btw)

-secretly collects little items you leave around the place even though he feels like a massive creep because of it. It started with a bobby pin he saw lying on your desk that he snatched while you weren’t paying attention. Now he has a whole drawer in his bedside table full of little trinkets; his favourite is a lip gloss that you had dropped one day (secretly wears it under his mask so he can feel like he’s tasting you throughout the day because he so desperately wants to kiss your pretty lips :( )

-once he opens up just a little more and you start to become friends, he slowly starts returning the items he stole because he feels too guilty. Hides them in semi-obvious places to make you think you had just misplaced them (can’t bring himself to part with the lipgloss though)

-avoids touching you at all costs. Feels like he's having a heart attack whenever you have to examine his teeth; feeling your soft little gloved fingers brush against his lips, trying your best to be so gentle with him. Likes that you’re always so nice to him; complimenting his gum health and being so soft and praising him when you have to take venom samples from his fangs, patting his shoulder when it's down to soothe him when you’re done. In reality you’re just trying your best to make you’re patient comfortable but he savours every moment. Gets so flustered every time you compliment him, even if its something generic and medically (he starts to floss several times a day after you casually mention that he has good gums)

-hates that he can always smell you even when you wear scent blockers, its so distracting. He can always smell you approaching before he sees you, making him panic and overthink at the thought of having to interact with you.

-pretty much exclusively drinks your blood type once he finds out what it is and gets all grumpy whenever the base’s blood dispensary runs out of it. Tries his best to fast until they’re restocked. He avoids you when he’s fasting because you smell so delicious. The fact that you’re completely oblivious and still hang around him only frustrates him more.

Hehe hope you degenerates like this. First part of the series should be out soon xo

#konig #konig headcanons #konig imagine #cod konig #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x you #cod mw2 #konig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig mw2 #mw2 #call of duty #cod #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #vampire #vampcore

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yuri-is-online · 6 months

Text

Bitch the Pot (Trey Clover x Reader)

Trey's birthday is coming up and you really want to buy him a present.

But what if he doesn't want it? What if he just thinks of your efforts as annoying, or even worse what if he sees right through you and makes things awkward. What if he stashes things away and makes fun of them later, years later when he barely remembers your name.

What if he's secretly looking forward to your presence and hasn't even considered he'd be lucky enough to get a gift. What if... what if...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, we're going to hurt comfort town choo choo mother fuckers, I am using the Hitchhiking Ghost names for the Ramshackle Ghosts because I am unoriginal, the more I think about Trey the more I realize Idia is right, Trey's a skethcy mfer and yeah that's hot. If you like this check out my masterlist for more fic.

You didn't want to indulge Trey's teeth thing.

Sure it will make him happy, smooth over all your little insecurities pricking at your heart as you poke through the second hand store for what you had thought would be a really cute idea on your way here but now weren't so sure about. Besides you are pretty sure that everyone else is going to buy him a bundle of floss and call it a day, well other than Rook who has been waxing poetic about how he had "the most fitting cap for the Rose Chevalier" so all the more reason to put a little less of a personal interest into your gifting and more of a thoughtful touch.

As thoughtful as you could afford anyway. You aren't even sure Trey likes these sorts of things, though that worry is sort of drowned by how surprised you are to find nice looking china in Crane Port's equivalent of a Good Will. There is a nice selection of tea cups, mismatched saucer plates, and the odd pot sat all by its lonesome all with neatly written prices on stickers you don't look forward to scrubbing off.

Afternoon Tea Special~ Pick one Pot, 4 cups w/ saucers, creamer, and sugar bowl: all for just 25 T!

Cute, and not a bad idea you supposed even if it did feel a bit overkill. Your original intention had just been to pick up a sugar bowl and maybe one cup, something for him to put candies in that had a lid so no flies could get at his violets. But it really would be a shame to pass up such a nice deal and hey, if Trey didn't like it he could just ditch it with the Heartslabyul kitchenware once he graduated and never speak to you again.

"Oh this is such a cute little selection!" The lady at the counter's eyes practically sparkle as she carefully wraps up your choices in tissue paper.

"It's a birthday gift." You can't help but mumble and the sparkle flutters out to her entire body, ah that's right, this lady always did look a bit bored when you came in. It seems like you have fed her and her knitting circle for the rest of the week.

"Well then this won't to at all." She huffs and stops wrapping up your order and bends under her counter, the tell tale ruffles of paper and boxes sounding oddly comforting as she produces what you think is a hat box and proudly begins to organize the mismatched set and fetches out even more tissue paper. "Must be for someone important with how long you've been eyeing up a sugar bowl." She wiggles her eye brows. You try to keep your focus on said bowl, you didn't realize she'd been watching you but then again you have been coming down here every spare weekend to stare at it. This shop was nice, it had a bunch of cheap clothes and nick knacks that were used sure, but a life saver for someone from a completely different world. If the lady is thankfully not offended by your silence. She simply tacks your receipt to the box and sends you off with a wink.

"Thank you for your purchase! Please come back soon!" And tell me all bout it! You swear she says it but you don't hear it, too much blood is thrumming in your ears

The hat box is not out of place among the gifts on the party table, so trey doesn't have an excuse to stare at it even if his eyes keep coming back to it. It's lavender, plain save for the cream bow he hopes Yuu tied around it, and had been decently heavy when he picked it up before Cater scolded him about playing favorites.

"Be a good Senior and eat the cookies we made for you until Riddle brings out the cake." He flicks his nose with a knowing look. "Normal people save the best for last right? I'm sure Yuu-yuu will be fine with waiting, since they can barely look at you today~" And of course like a fool he whips his head to look, startling them and proving Cater's point as they immediately scurry back to Ace and Deuce.

"Screw you." He's only half joking but Cater's fully laughing and probably already took a picture. "I'm just worried they felt like they needed to bring a gift I would have been happy just to-"

"No you wouldn't have." For someone who likes lying to himself Cater really doesn't seemed thrilled with his choice to gaslight himself. "You would have spent the rest of the night thinking 'ooooh it'd be really nice if I got something from Yuu, I wonder if they hate meeee, I should make sure they think I don't care about helping them some more so they leave me alone and I don't have to think about how nice it would be to-'"

"Cater!" Trey has never been so grateful to hear Riddle yell about anything in his life. "Could you please help me with the cake? I was going to ask Yuu but they had to go back to Ramshackle."

"Yuu's back at Ramshackle?" Trey reaches to adjust his glasses, trying to ground himself.

"Yes, they said they were feeling sick and-" That's all Trey registers, though he hears the rest "went back to lie down, Grim insisted on staying to make sure the food didn't get them sick." It's his party, he can't just leave that would be an extreme violation of the rules but Cater's earlier accusation comes back to him. Make them think I won't care about them. It's not intentional, he thinks it's obvious he always will but then again-

"Fifteen minutes." Cater whispers under his breath.

"Thirty."

"You're delusional." Still Cater doesn't sound mad. "Eighteen."

"Twenty." He's already snatched up the hat box and making his way towards the doors.

~~~~

"Awww Yuu." Phineas would pat your head if he could. "I'm sure it's not that bad, you're just overthinking things."

"Yeah I think anyone would be happy to get a gift from you!" Gus tries, all three ghosts perking up slightly when you smile just a bit at his encouragement. "And if not then well..."

"I know I'm just being dramatic but I couldn't stand waiting anymore." You don't mention how Ace and Deuce had been teasing you, not wanting to relive the absolute embarrassment of having been caught staring at their Vice-Warden one too many times for dots to remain unconnected. "I asked Grim to bring back some cake but I don't know if he'll remember."

"Oooh let's take bets on it!" Ezra cheers and a familiar, unexpected laugh interrupts sending the ghosts scattering and leaving you at the mercy of a familiar face.

"I think it's safe to say that would be a pretty obvious bet." Trey sets the hat box on your coffee table, folding his strong arms and firmly sticking a lump in your throat. "You should have bet on me."

"Returning your gift is not bringing me something." You huff and Trey has the decency to look a bit awkward.

"I'm not here to return it, there's rules to gifts you know." Oh no. "For example, on our birthdays, the Queen of Hearts says we get to ask for anything we want." He finally moves, unfortunately for you he's decided to use his height to his advantage and lean over the table to crowd you back into the couch. "And I spent a long time thinking about what I should ask for from you."

"Um- I well-" You're looking everywhere but him now, as if you were before. "I did get you a gift though?" He laughs.

"And you ran away before I could thank you." Trey begins to unwrap the ribbons, slowly as if he's waiting for you to look at him but not wanting to deny his curiosity any longer. "But that doesn't change the rules. Sorry, I didn't make them."

The sugar bowl is the first piece he finds, the shop lady has to have set it on top on purpose. His eyebrows raise, not in disappointment you think, curiosity hopefully as he slowly opens the rest of them.

"Sorry." You immediately say to fill the space out of habit, and Trey stops his examination to look up at you.

"What for?" He picks up the sugar bowl, just as amused as you with the clover flowers patterned across it in a nice twist on his name and half the accessories he owns. "Don't tell me you want this stuff back, its mine now."

"No! I'm glad you like," you cringe at the question in your tone and cower at the smirk on Trey's face "I mean I hope you like it."

"A hand picked tea set from the Ramshackle Prefect? It's perfect. Especially for a birthday gift for me." He carefully wraps up the cups and their saucers, silence once again falling over the room as you wonder why he hasn't called you out on your lie, the self doubt suggesting he hadn't noticed. "I meant what I said earlier you know."

"What, about making demands of me?" You say.

"Hey chill I only sort of meant it like that." He doesn't even bother trying to hide his amusement. "I mean betting on me. I know it might sound strange to hear me say, but I do have things I think are worth extra effort. And if I have to put in a lot of it to get you to understand that I am glad you are in my life, then I'll just have to do that." So he did know you weren't sick, and was just dancing around the subject to be polite as usual.

"Happy birthday Trey." Because what else are you supposed to say, and he tries his best to not let his disappointment show as he takes his opened gift back to the rose garden. "I'm- I hope you have a nice time at your party."

He pauses at the threshold of your dorm, the wicked smile returning. "I think I know what I want to ask you to do."

"Oh no." You did not mean to say that out loud.

"Mhm. But you are going to have to come back to Heartslabyul to hear it, but after the party, we can use our cups." Our cups he says, as if you had picked out any cups that were supposed to represent you.

He noticed, of course Trey noticed that there was no trace of Yuu in this very you gift. But he could fix that, if you would just give him a chance. And maybe get the calm celebration he actually wants when you do.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #hm #tempted to make goodwill lady an oc because i think yuu deserves an ally in crane port #no idea who she'd be based off of though lol

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