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bunny-yan · 2 months

Note

so for the yandere king, will he ever get married to someone who isn’t reader?

He’ll hold it off for as long as he can, but don’t expect him not to take it out on you if he complains about it and you don’t give him the reaction he was expecting. TW: mentions violence, domestic abuse, mentions somnophilia, power imbalance, minors DNI

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You’d gotten your hopes up.

It’d been such a long time since you felt anything like it, but with whispers around every corner speaking of the king’s possible marriage, you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of freedom, of a life without the tyrant you called a king.

He had to produce an heir. It was an unavoidable duty his position demanded. The kingdom needed to be left with a future should anything unfortunate happen to their oh, so beloved king.

Sometimes, you wished that his misfortune would happen by your hands. If only to give him a taste of what you had to endure, but you shoved such thoughts away. It was harder to keep your composure when you entertained ideas you’d never be allowed to act upon. Or if you tried would cause more harm than good.

Others looked smug as you passed them in the long hallways, claiming you’d be thrown away by the king as soon as he married, and you prayed to the goddess that they were right. That he’d marry someone he could love and obsess over. That his violent affection would be directed at someone else for a change. Did it make you cruel, wishing that someone else would take your place? A part of you lacked the ability to care. If they were so desperate to tear you down, not realizing the hell disguised as paradise, you would be more than willing to let them have a taste of it.

The king’s marriage.

When the two of you were younger, he promised to hold the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. He’d spare no expense and it would be remembered as the happiest days of your lives. Remembered as the day of your union, the day you would promise to spend eternity together. You supposed that after killing all of your family members and gaining ownership of you, it didn’t really matter one way or the other how it happened, but you felt a small sense of relief that the monstrous event had been delayed.

The talk you had to endure was bad enough, but you could only imagine what the nobles would have to say if the King were to make your union official. You wouldn’t be the one who achieved every servant’s fairytale, no. You would be the peasant living above their station. The whore who sunk their claws into their sweet prince. The tramp who didn’t know their place.

You would dread every display of affection he would shower you with in public, knowing that despite his insistence of you remaining by his side, others too afraid to show their disdain in front of the King, there would undoubtedly be a moment where they would find you alone and without your shield you were vulnerable to their contempt.

But the idea of him living out that fantasy with another shifted something in you. You felt a slight upturn of your lips at the thought of him standing at the altar with a faceless figure as you packed what little things you truly owned and ran and ran and ran as far as your legs could carry you. The dull ache you’d become familiar with would burst, and you’d cry freely, laugh hysterically, and smile as if you had never forgotten how. That was what paradise sounded like.

Doors slamming open, the strange emotions fled from your body, replaced with instant unease at the sight of the king’s furious face.

You stood quickly to bow and greet the head of your kingdom.

“Leave us,” he said. Two words dismissing everyone from your chambers, holding so much power you feared they didn’t know what monster they were abandoning you to face alone. As you’d always had.

He sat on the plush couch with a heavy sigh, unbuttoning his shirt as he gave the order, “Pour me a drink.”

You didn’t hesitate to meet his demands. You got two glasses, knowing that he’d push you to join him, along with the liquor your Kingdom was famous for and he favored on particularly stressful days. Setting them down on the table, you tried to ignore the set eyes watching you as you filled one glass and left the other, hoping that he wouldn’t notice or at least be too preoccupied to comment on your lack of a desire to drink at this hour.

He said nothing.

You picked up the glass, careful not to spill it as you handed it to your king. He took it from your hands, but his other snatched your wrist as you retreated back, making you tense. The king threw the full glass back as if you poured a shot before slamming the glass on the table. He wiped the dribble of alcohol that escaped from his lips as he pulled you to sit on his lap.

This was dangerous. He was sober now, but you weren’t sure how long that would last after drinking enough to keep him wasted for the rest of the day. How long would it take to kick in? You’d pour him the cup, believing he’d sip it as usual while entangling you in a verbal joust. He would ask impossibly complex questions disguised as basic pleasantries, and you would struggle to find the right thing to say. Because there was always a right thing to say. Something he wanted to hear to stroke the fragile ego drowning in his fear. You had waves of carefully hidden bruises as proof.

“Pour me another,” he demanded, the harsh tone making your hair stand on end. He really must’ve heard something he didn’t like.

“My King,” you began, timidly, as you turned to face him. It wouldn’t bode well for you if he was too drunk to remember what he had done the next day. His memory was truth, and if he didn’t remember putting his hands on you, if he didn’t remember the violence he wrought night after night, it didn’t happen. “May I pour you some water instead?”

The hand on your waist was stroking your side casually. His motions didn’t falter.

Hopefully, he didn’t take offense.

You were clear on your station. You were to serve his every whim and desire. An outright refusal wasn’t wise. Resting a hand on his arm, you knew to keep your gaze down. Keeping contact, unchallenging, all things he preferred in moments like these.

“How considerate,” he said, your body sagging in relief at the concession.

You were almost too eager to pull away from his grip, but he let you go without a word, watching you retrieve the pitcher and another glass before you came to pour him a glass.

You handed it to him and much like before, you were pulled into his lap as he sipped on the small offering you were grateful he accepted. You were afraid to hope that his temperament would be manageable.

Before you learned of the engagement, you wondered if you’d unintentionally done something to make Idris angry.

It was little things at first.

Snapping at you for getting up from dinner without his express permission, grabbing you harshly if you pulled away from any form of affection he so generously offered. When he’d wake you up, it was usually in the form of violent affections, his touch lacking any tenderness or care that he often liked to pretend still existed between the two of you.

He only realized that he was treating you differently when you found the courage to ask him if you’d done something to gain his ire. You couldn’t think of anything you may have done to make him upset. It’d been a while since your last escape attempt. Knowing there was nothing and no one waiting outside of the palace for you, you didn’t really have a desire to escape. Better to remain with the person who’d travel to the ends of the earth to trap you by their side, right?

Regardless, he looked surprised by your question and you discovered he didn’t even realize how harshly he’d been treating you. Projecting his anger on you because you reminded him of the Duke’s daughter and how their intended engagement would ruin everything he planned to build with you.

“I assume you’ve heard by now,” he said carefully, the glass of water resting on his lips as he watched you.

You didn’t know whether to play dumb or openly admit you learned of his vassal’s plan to marry him to someone with a legitimate background. He was obviously unhappy about it, so if you mentioned that you had learned, he might shift the conversation to ask instead why you remained silent. To ask about your feelings on the matter and when you didn’t show the same amount of disdain, he’d mistake your feelings for what they were.

Hope.

A newfound hope that you had found a way to escape from underneath his grip, even if it was temporary. You could only imagine the anger he’d display then.

If you pretended you didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d give a knowing smile as he narrowed his eyes. Calling you his clueless lover, the hand at your waist would squeeze into your side, his fingernails threatening to pierce your skin as he buried his head in your neck. Harsh laughter would brush across your skin and your body would be so tense, waiting for the moment that skin would be met with teeth. Met with pain.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything. He always did love hearing himself speak.

“Have you seen the Duke at the balls I’ve hosted? He’s hoping to gain an alliance with the imperial family by forcing me to marry his daughter in exchange for his backing and the steel his family mines in order to make weapons.”

His fingers drummed against your side as he took a sip of his water.

You felt inclined to say something to break this silence, to give a show of how upset or angry or disappointed or sad or whatever the hell you were supposed to be feeling so he felt as if you were torn up about this situation and not hoping the Duke would move faster with the marriage arrangements.

“How arrogant,” you said simply.

He smiled, setting down his glass as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Those were my thoughts exactly. I managed to push it off, but I can’t see the Duke giving up any time soon.” He sighed, leaning into your touch when you began to scratch the back of his neck. You were listening. You cared about what he was saying. You sympathized with his plight and offered the reprieve you could. To say you could do more was putting it lightly, but you would get away with doing the bare minimum for as long as you could.

“It makes me think of how unfair this is to you.”

You wanted to laugh.

Unfair was forcing you into the position of his concubine in the first place. Unfair was ignoring your consistent refusals and forcing you to remain by his side. Unfair was the treatment you endured in the position you never asked to be in, the abuse you suffered, the constant torment you faced, the aching loneliness at being able to talk honestly with no one, the grief at the loss of your family—unfair was putting it lightly.

It was hard to hear coming from the culprit.

“It got me thinking that if I’m eventually forced to go through with this wedding despite my lack of enthusiasm, why not have a wedding I’d enjoy first?”

Dread pinched your stomach.

“Do you remember the promise we made when we were younger?”

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Not another shackle. Yet another excuse to be stuck in this place with no way out.

“Your Highness-”

“I promised you that we’d have the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. That you would walk upon a path of flowers that would lead you to my side, and one of the knights can walk you down the aisle since-.”

You felt nauseous.

“Anyways, I think I’ve been putting it off for too long and it’s the perfect event to put my vassals in their place.”

This couldn’t be happening. You shook your head, not wanting to imagine what life would be like after you became… what? What did he intend on calling you if you were no longer his concubine? What did it matter if your treatment would remain spiteful regardless of how many escorts he replaced by your side. Any hope you had about escaping would be snatched away and your every move would be reported back to the King. You supposed he didn’t botherbefore because there really was nowhere for you to go where people didn’t know who you were, but with this new title, this new position, he would shorten your leash to show just how much of a loving couple the two of you were.

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, a warning in his voice. “You don’t look happy.”

“No,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. It brought tears to your eyes when the impediment remained, threatening to choke you as you struggled to hold them back. “I’m overjoyed.” you said, burying your head in his shoulder so he couldn’t see that these weren’t happy tears. That you weren’t crying at what you would gain from marrying the King, the most sought after “bachelor” in your kingdom. You were crying at everything that you would lose, that would continue to be taken away from you. Demanded of you. Your peace, your love, happiness, and the joy you were so desperate to convince him you felt in this moment.

Not that he really cared in the first place.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yan!idris #yandere king

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soulofapatrick · 6 months

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Jealousy, Jealousy - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: A party held by Boa Hancock makes Zoro admit his feelings for you

Words 2.4k

Warnings: heated make-out session only

Y/N’s POV

As the ornate gates of Boa Hancock’s mansions swung open, a hushed awe falls upon us as we step into the opulent halls. It’s a sight to behold, adorned with intricate designs and lavish decorations that whisper tales of luxury. To my right stands Sanji, a protective presence, a testament to our mutual wariness towards Hancock’s extravagant invitation.

The air hums with an aura of elegance, the mingling scents of perfumes and exotic flowers infusing the atmosphere. Amidst the revelry, I catch Zoro’s intense gaze, his eyes fixed on me, Robin at his side as Hancock has paired us off. It’s an unspoken acknowledgement, a silent understanding amidst the glittering masks and elaborate attire.

Boa Hancock, draped in regal elegance, moves through he crowd effortlessly. Her presence demands attention, yet your caution remains. We tried carefully, observing, while the festivities cascade around us.

Sanji, never one to miss a chance to charm of course, offers compliments and flirtatious banter, yet his gaze shifts to ensure my safety as the ‘baby’ of the group. I appreciate his protective stance, even amidst the allure of this enchanting gathering.

With Sanji distracted I make a swift move towards the bar, the need for a momentary respite calling me while everyone dances in vibrant colours and are having loud and bubbly conversations and elegant attire. At the bar, the ambiance shifts to a quieter melody. The bartender, a silent witness to many such gatherings, nods with a knowing smile as I order a drink, seeking a temporary sanctuary from the whirlwind of the night. The crystal glass in my hand holds the promise of respite, a momentary escape from the enchanting, yet overwhelming, allure of the mansion.

Nami appears by my side, her presence a familiar comfort in the middle of the grandeur. We exchange a glance laden with unspoken understanding, the shared sentiment of finding solace in each other’s company in these unfamiliar territories. The elegant chime of her laughter adds a touch of familiarity to the sophisticated air of the gathering. I should be appreciating the place with awe and wonder but none of the Straw Hats know that I came from something like this before they found me.

The drink in my hand carries a subtle complexity—a blend of flavours that dance upon my tongue, a crafted elixir meant to soothe amidst the whirlwind of the evening. Its hue, a deep amber, catches the soft glint of the ambient lights, casting delicate reflections that mirrors the opulence surrounding us.

As Nami points out how extravagant and probably arrogant all these people are here, I steal a moment to glance around, taking in the splendour of Boa Hancock’s extravagant affair. The grandeur is not lost on me; the mansion, adorned with elegance, holds a familiarity that echoes with distant memories that taste something sour in my throat.

The soirée, a realm of sophistication and polished façades, is a stark contrast to the life I led before the Straw Hats found me. None of them are aware of my past, of the world I once navigated with practiced grace—a world akin to this one, where elegance with both a shield and a cage. I should be socialising and mingling, finding out what I can from these upper-class, self-entitled people probably being one of the best to do so, other than Sanji.

Observing the gathering, my eyes catch a sight that speaks volumes—a moment frozen in time between Sanji and Boa Hancock. His trademark charm is in full display, evident in the way he gazes at her, a delicate hand placed strategically on her lower back. Boa's subtle blush betrays a hint of vulnerability beneath her regal composure, an unspoken exchange that resonates with unspoken truths. Their interaction, a dance of subtle gestures and lingering gazes, unravels before me. It’s glimpse into the intricate web of dynamics within this enigmatic world, a world where even the most confident souls reveal vulnerabilities in fleeting moments.

As my gaze shifts, I find Luffy, his infectious enthusiasm palpable even from a distance. Usopp stands by his side, engaging in animated conversation, their laughter resonating through the room. Their camaraderie, a testament to the unbreakable bond forged though shared adventures, offers a grounding familiarity.

However, it’s Zoro who captures my attention next—a figure of strengths and stoicism engaged in a conversation with Robin. His usual air of aloofness sees softened in her presence, their discussion veiled in layers of quiet intensity. The subtle gestures, the shared glances—they paint a picture of understanding and mutual respect between two individuals whose depths run deeper than what meets the eye.

As I watch Zoro and Robin, a pang of unfamiliar jealousy stirs within me—a feeling foreign yet potent. Their connection, veiled in unspoken understanding, tugs at the edges of my composure, awakening a part of me I thought I'd left behind—the echoes of a past self yearning to resurface.

Excusing myself from Nami’s side with a feigned smile, I set out to mingle, seeking a distraction in the vibrant tapestry of guests. Amidst the opulence and sophistication, I spot a striking figure—a man exuding an air of confidence and allure that beckons with temptation. I slip back into the persona I wore before I joined the Straw Hats—a façade of charm and sophistication, a mask that once defined me in a world I thought I'd left behind. Engaging effortlessly in playful banter and coy smiles, I mirror the flirtatious exchanges that used to be second nature.

The handsome stranger, a willing participant in this dance of fleeting connections, becomes my temporary refuge—an embodiment of the person I once was, a remnant of the world I once navigated with practiced ease. In his company I rediscover facets of myself that lay dormant, submerged beneath the adventures and camaraderie that define life aboard the Thousand Sunny. The pulse of the night quickens, the energy of the gathering fuelling the sparks of a persona that feels strangely familiar yet distant.

The charismatic exchange with the stranger is abruptly interrupted by a sudden weight on my waist, a sturdy hand claiming possession. Startled, I turn my head to find Zoro standing besides me, his presence commanding, a stark contrast to the templar refuge I sought in the strangers company.

“Piss off.” Zoro’s voice is tinged with an edge that brooks no argument, cuts through the chatter of the gathering as he tensely dismisses the man. The interloper retreats with a flustered no, leaving a trial of confusion in his wake. Zoro’s firm grip on my waist remains, a silent assertion of his claim in the midst of the chaotic evening. Without a world, he guides me away from the commotion, leading us towards a secluded hallway—a sanctuary away from prying eyes and murmurs of the party.

Leaning against the wall, I find myself entranced by Zoro’s commanding presence as he paces with deliberate steps. His usual attire, synonymous wit a rugged warrior’s spirit, is replaced by a tailored black suit that moulds to the contours of his frame. The fabric, sleek and refined, whispers softly as he moves, exuding an aura of understated power.

Underneath the dark suit jacket, a forest green silk shirt peeks out, a subtle flash of color against the monochrome palette. The fabric, delicately woven and contrasting against the dark backdrop, accentuates the strength in his broad shoulders and the defined lines of his physique. His movements are controlled, each step measured yet purposeful, creating a rhythm that reverberates through the otherwise still corridor. The dim lighting casts a play of shadows and highlights across his features, emphasising the sharpness of his jawline and the intensity in his gaze.

As I stand there, an array of emotions stir with me. My heartbeat quickens at the sight of him—Zoro, the swordsman whose strength I've always admired, now clad in this unexpected guise of refined elegance. The sight of him in this attire, so far removed from his usual rugged persona, tugs at the strings of my heart, evoking a sense of awe and longing.

“Are you gonna stop pacing and say something?” The words escape my lips, breaking the charged silence that had enveloped us. Zoro's restless pacing, a testament to the simmering tension between us, continues as he grumbles under his breath, his agitation palpable.

Finally, he does halt, in front of me, his intense gaze locking with mine. His eyes, dark pools of determination and depth, sweep over me, and I feel his scrutiny like a tangible caress. There’s an unspoken question lingering in the air, a tension thick enough to be sliced with a blade. The dress I wear, chosen for the occasion, drapes around me in delicate layers of midnight blue. Its fabric, a dance of silk and lace, moulds to my form with a grace that contrasts sharply with the tumultuous emotions swirling within. The dress, simple yet elegant, accentuates curves and hints at vulnerability, a stark contrast against the backdrop of the secluded hallway.

As Zoro crowds me against the wall, a myriad of emotions surge within me—a mix of apprehension and anticipation. His hands, placed firmly on either side of my head, are a testament to his strength, yet they evoke a sense of protection rather than fear. There's an undeniable intensity to his proximity, a closeness that crackles with unspoken desires and unresolved tension.

As my gaze flickers down to Zoro’s lips, a rush of nerves tingles through me. His growled question pierces the charged silence, the intensity in his voice sending a jolt through the air, “Why were you flirting with that guy?” His worlds, rough and direct, catch me off guard, the weight of his inquiry echoing in the tense space between us.

Meeting his eyes again, I sense the vulnerability underlying his intensity, “Why were you flirting with Robin?” I shoot back, my voice carrying a mix of defiance and uncertainty. The tension in the air tightens, the unspoken emotions swirling between us like a tempest.

Zoro’s eyes roll in exasperation, his response sharp and abrupt, “I wasn’t flirting with Robin you dumbass.” His words, laced with frustration, hang int he air, echoing in the hollow silence of the hallway, the muffled chatter and music fading to silence as all I can focus on is Zoro.

Before I can protest or rationalise further, his proximity intensifies. The world dissolves into a whirlwind of sensations as Zoro’s hand finds the curve of my neck, tilting my head upwards with a gentle yet firm touch. His lips crash against mine in a fervent collision, igniting a fiery storm of pent-up emotions and desire.

The kiss is everything I expected from Zoro—hot, heavy and charged with an intensity that sends electric pulses coursing through my body. His mouth moves against mine with a raw hunger, a passionate urgency that leaves no room for doubts or hesitation. There’s a fervour in the way he tastes, a heady blend of passion and restraint mingling in the heat of our entwined mouths. His lips move against mine, teasing and exploring, each movement setting my senses ablaze with a fire that refuses to be contained.

The heat of the moment amplifies the sensations—a mingling of fervent desire and unspoken yearning, an uncharted territory where emotions collide in a tempestuous dance. It’s a kiss that speaks volumes, conveying a depth of emotions that words could never capture.

As the fervour of the kiss begins to ebb, Zoro breaks away, his lips trailing a searing path along the sensitive skin of my neck. The sensation is electric, sending shivers down my spine as he leaves behind a trial of intense marks, sucking gentle hickeys into the soft flesh. His touch, both possessive and tender, electrifies my sense, awakening a torrent of desire that courses through me. The intensity of his actions speaks volumes, conveying a depth of passion that words could never encapsulate.

Simultaneously, his hand, previously at the curve of my neck, journeys down my side, navigating the bend of my knee, coaxing it upwards. His touch is insistent, yet surprisingly gentle, guiding my leg to bend and part slightly, inviting and intimate. With a deliberate move, his hand slips beneath the silky fabric of the dress the contact sending a jolt of anticipation through me. His touch on my bare skin ignites a whirlwind of sensations—a mix of heat and tenderness, each caress leaving a scorching trail in its wake.

The silkiness of the dress offers no barriers to the warm h of his touch as his hand trails along the length of my thigh, massaging the skin and setting my nerves ablaze. The sensation is almost overwhelming, a tantalising blend of desire and anticipation, as his touch explores the uncharted territory of my skin.

Finally, he pulls his lips from my neck, and his eyes roam over my face and chest, capturing the rise and fall of my breath, a testament to the charged atmosphere between us. In that moment of heightened tension, I find myself mumbling almost incoherently, "Don't be in love with someone else.”

A guttural groan escapes Zoro, accompanied by a frustrated facepalm, as if my words cause him a mix of annoyance and exasperation. His demeanour shifts abruptly, and with a firm grip, he grabs my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. With deliberate slowness, he enunciates each word, his voice carrying a weight that leaves no room for doubt. "I am in love with no one else except you." His declaration, spoken with unwavering conviction, hangs in the charged air between us, resonating with a depth of emotion that pierces through the tumultuous emotions and uncertainties.

His eyes, searching mine for any trace of doubt or disbelief, hold an intensity that reflects the sincerity of his words. In that fleeting moment, enveloped by the gravity of his confession, the world around us seems to fade, leaving only the raw honesty and vulnerability in his declaration of love.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He nods once, “Let’s go back to the party.”

One Piece Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

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lipglossanon · 1 year

Text

M༙྇r༙྇.༙྇ S༙྇i༙྇n༙྇i༙྇s༙྇t༙྇e༙྇r༙྇

corrupt cop!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ so minors DNI, Reader is 18+, corruption kink, dark Leon, daddy kink, biting, dirty talk, oral (f receiving)

don’t like, don’t interact 🤷‍♀️ any typos or mistakes are my own, not proofread and also probably an overuse of the word good but eh lmao

divider: @firefly-graphics 💜

Editing to add: title of this is Mr. Sinister, pulled from the I Don’t Know How But They Found Me song of the same name ✌️

Part 2: Mirror on the Wall (Tell Me All the Ways to Stay Away)

Part 3: One Love, Two Mouths

Part 4: Embracing With Two Hands

______________

Leon likes to patrol the usual hideaways and make out spots in Raccoon City; although he’s in his late 20’s now, the spots are still popular and it’s easy pickings to write out tickets for loitering or underage drinking.

He doesn’t stake out Lovers Lane too often, but tonight he’s extremely glad he did.

He spots you, alone, walking down the pull off road headed out from the popular make out destination. Your arms are folded, thin yellow cardigan paired with a modest grey skirt standing out at this time of night. Your head is bent down so you don’t even notice him until he has pulled up alongside you.

“Lost?”

Your head quickly looks over at him and you give him a shy smile, cute dimples showing.

“Uh n-no. My date, he uh,” you frown, pretty eyes glancing at your shoes, “well, things didn’t go his way so I’m walking home.”

Leon’s eyes rake across your body, a low heat building in his stomach. You’re so vulnerable right now. He feels his pulse race in excitement.

“That’s a shame,” he clicks his tongue drawing your bashful gaze back to him, “I can take you home.”

“Really?” Another of those dimpled smiles grace your face.

“Of course,” Leon grins, boyish and sweet, “hop in the back.”

You climb into the back of the squad car. Leon’s eyes watch as you tug your skirt back down from your thighs as you adjust in your seat. He wants to sink his teeth into them, leave them bruised before burying his face in your little cunt.

You sigh in relief and catch his gaze in the rear view mirror, “I really appreciate it, Officer Kennedy.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart.”

You give him your address and he nods as he pulls back onto the road.

A few minutes pass by as you gaze out the window watching the trees pass by like dark shadows on the glass.

“So you and your boyfriend huh?” Leon asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The anticipation is building inside him.

You look away from the scenery, brow furrowed as you look at the back of his head.

“Yeah, he um..”

You trail off, feeling embarrassed. You shuffle in your seat and tug on your skirt.

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Leon’s sharp voice cut in.

“Oh no no,” your eyes widen with surprise, “he just wanted to go further than I was comfortable with.”

Your voice trails off as you bit your lip. Leon watches in the mirror. He loves the look on your face. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Boys can be very hotheaded. Especially when they’re with a pretty girl. And you’re a very pretty girl,” he spoke, voice still tinged with that dark edge.

You feel your cheeks warm, eyes catching his shyly, “I-I guess.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I won’t have any of that. Say thank you, Officer Kennedy.”

“Thank y-you, Officer Kennedy,” you stammer out, wide eyed at his tone.

Leon gives you a lazy smile, “Good girl. We thank people who give us compliments, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you feel a low pulse of arousal at his words, “thank you.”

His smile widens, “Anytime. I bet you’re just the sweetest thing, huh. No wonder your boy pushed his luck. I bet you’re still a virgin.”

You press your palms to your face, shielding your embarrassment, “That i-isn’t appropriate to—“

Leon laughs, “Yeah you are, just a sweet, little virgin.”

You press your thighs together, hating and loving the way he was speaking to you.

Leon’s sea dark eyes took in your flustered appearance, “Bet you’re wet right now, pretty girl.”

You let out a harsh gasp and Leon laughs again. You watch as he pulls off into a thick copse of trees, the road disappearing behind you before shutting the car off.

“I think you need someone to show you the ropes, sweetheart,” Leon murmurs in the quiet.

He gets out of the car and makes his way into the backseat with you. You press your back against the opposite door, pulling your legs up to face him.

“Officer Kennedy, I need to get home,” you whisper.

He shakes his head, “And you will but right now, I think I deserve a little treat, right? For taking you home.”

He grabs your ankles and drags your legs to lay out straight as he crawls over your body, boxing you in. You can smell his cologne along with the mint on his breath.

Your hands reach out to press against his chest, stilling his movements.

“Aww,” he coos down at you, “‘m not gonna do anything to hurt you.”

You bite your lip, wide eyes peering up at him, “You promise?”

Leon could jump for joy. You were so trusting which made you easy.

“Of course, pretty girl. I promise. I won’t do anything you won’t like.”

You take a deep breath and let it out, “Okay.”

“Such a good girl for me,” he lets his lips hover over yours.

Your pouty mouth has been tempting him all night. He gives you a quick closed mouth kiss that has you sighing. He presses more chaste pecks against your cheeks and nose before going back to your mouth.

This time, it’s a heated exchange of tongues and lips and spit until your gasping on every exhale and Leon has to pull away. He goes back again and again and again. He can’t get enough of your sticky sweet kisses. The glittery strawberry lipgloss has him sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it with a quiet pop.

He coaxes you to open up your mouth wider and pulls away to slip his thumb between your lips. You slowly suckle on the digit and that, along with your blitzed out expression, has his cock jumping. He pulls his thumb away only to smear it along your red, swollen lips.

“Pretty fuckin mouth,” he presses his thumb back in, “want it stretched around my cock tonight, sweet thing.”

You moan and suck on his thumb harder, thighs twitching and rubbing together. Your skirt gets rucked up from all the movement until Leon can see the light blue panties covering your pussy.

“Yeah,” his eyes darken, “god, I bet that little cunt is soaked right now, huh sweetheart?”

You whine as he pulls his thumb away, “I’ve never w-went this far. I don’t know what to do.”

He groans, “God you’re perfect. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you what you need.”

Leon feels lucky. Like he won the lottery the moment he saw you alone. He tries to reign in his excitement and take it slow.

He moves back to kissing you, thrusting his tongue into your hot, pliant mouth. You tentatively suck on his tongue and he presses his hips down onto yours, grinding the hard line of his cock against your panty clad pussy.

“Gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

He manages to pull himself away from your lips and moves down to your thighs. He presses a few soft kisses into each thigh before latching onto the left and sinking his teeth into it. You give a sharp cry at the sting but feel dizzy with how much you liked it.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles into the bite, eyes never leaving your face, “gonna do the other side now, ‘kay?”

And before you can even nod, he’s pressing his teeth into your right thigh biting down a little harder than before.

Your head falls back against the door with a low moan.

“Knew you’d like it, fuckin slut.”

You give a mewling gasp in response. Leon continues to litter your thighs with bites and hickeys until your squirming so hard he has to hold your hips in place.

“So fuckin good for me, sweetheart. Gonna keep you all to myself.”

Your pussy clenches at that admission, another low whine spilling from your lips.

You feel wetness slipping down your thighs as Leon slides his fingers across your panties and lightly strokes against your clit. He presses his face against the damp cotton before licking you through your panties, soaking them even further.

He presses an open mouthed kiss to your cunt, tongue lapping at the fabric before finally pulling off your panties and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Gorgeous. You’re pretty everywhere.”

After a beat of panting breaths, he gives a light smack to your mound and puffy clit that makes you thrust up with a wanton cry, “What did I say about compliments?”

You bring your tear filled gaze to his, “T-thank you, Offic—“

“Daddy. That’s what you’re gonna call me now, pretty girl.”

You moan, “Thank you, daddy.”

He smiles up at you, “Of course, sweet thing. Now I’m going to eat this pretty pussy for as long as I want.”

Your legs twitch but stay pressed open, “Thank you, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he grins, “so good for me.”

You feel another gush of wetness from the praise and the hungry look on his handsome features. Your hands flutter at your sides as he brushes his hair away from his face and turns back to the apex of your thighs.

He ducks his head down and licks over your slick folds slowly until his tongue is circling your swollen clit. You can’t stop the low whines and moans as you reach down to run your hands through his hair.

“That’s it, grab onto me if you need to, sweetheart.”

He goes back down on you and eats you out like a man starved. His tongue is thrusting into your wet clenching hole before slipping along your lips up to your sensitive clit. He places open mouth kisses over your mound until finally sucking your clit into his mouth and slowly teasing his tongue across it.

Your hips are jumping and pressing up up up into his mouth. Your careful not to pull his hair but your hands are scratching along his scalp making him moan into your pussy, the vibrations send you reeling.

“Please daddy, please please please,” you’re babbling, “Feels so good. You make me feel so good daddy.”

You’re nearly crying from how much tension is building in your core. Leon slips in a finger alongside his mouth and you feel your orgasm ramping closer and closer.

Leon continues lapping at your hole before moving his mouth up to your clit to softly suckle on it. He slips in another finger and crooks them both upwards. He continuously rubs against that spongy spot that has you clenching hard on his fingers. Your hips arch down into the motion of his hand before arching back up to his sinfully good mouth.

His tongue dips into your cunt alongside his fingers. Pulling back, he presses another sharp bite into your left thigh making you moan loudly and pull his hair.

“Fuck, that’s it’s baby. Want you to feel good.”

You tug him back down into your throbbing pussy and he moans as you press your clit against his lips. Leon mouths at your sloppy cunt until you’re moaning loudly as you cream all over him.

“So good for me, pretty girl,” Leon licks his lips with a grin.

“You want me to help you out now?”

Leon adjusts himself in his slacks, “No, we’re gonna save that for another time, sweetheart. I need to get you home, I’m sure it’s past your bedtime.”

You can feel embarrassment crawl up your spine, “I, uh, live alone so actually I-I don’t really have one.”

He turns his face to the side so it’s hard to read his expression, but you can see his teeth glint in a smile.

“Well now, sweetheart. Maybe I could stop in for a night cap, huh?”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 4 remake fanfic #corruptcop!leon Kennedy #alternate universe #re au #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #dark!leon #tw: daddy kink #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader

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venusandsaturnsrings · 3 months

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Okay lemme just

I have jjk brainrot and lemme just try to categorise my thoughts instead of letting them go !!!!!!!!

GOJO:

-Special grade teaser, this man will have you begging and edging you till you're crying

-def into letting you wear his blindfold, bonus if you're tied up

GETO

Pet play, corruption kink, need i go on- also if going with bottom Geto, def whimpers if you tug on his hair

MEGUMI

Purely basing this on an rp i had with a friend- lactation kink. Absolutely down for 3 somes with his SO + Yuji, we stan a bi king

SUKUNA

Blood kink, marking, anyway he can show off that you're his. Prolly bites you on the darn daily

MAHITO (making this extra long for you <3)

Hear me out- virgin but freaky AF

Watersports, spit, blood, cum, he's down for anything

Def has fantasies about carving his name into his fav human toy (you <3) preferably on the chest for all to see

Wil push you to your limits, prolly sucks at aftercare but can be bribed ibto beibg the best with it jn return for some new games and toys *nudge nudge wink wink*

Bonus-

Geeting double penetrated by Mahito and Foul Legacy Taru <3

IM LISTENING IM HEARING U OUT IM BRAINROTTING WITH U!! i’m crafting up a silly au where everyone lives and no one suffers and everyone gets to be happy and go to uni together and and and… so given that, i’m writing gumi n junpei as over 18!! crazy to think about but in canon time im younger than all of them… fucked up how time works huh… ANYWAYS…

includes: this is just general headcanons building off what you said my dearest + adding a couple of my own thoughts!! has Gojo, Geto, Megumi, Sukuna, Mahito, and Junpei bc he is so special to me <3 i am one of 3 Junpei kinnies on this planet i swear…

i’m not a major Gojo fucker, if anything we have hate sex that is fuelled by pent up arousal and being big time touch starved… but the idea of him using his blindfold on you?? oh dear oh my… it’s both a big step in trust and vulnerability. given that he finds not having his eyes covered to be immensely overwhelming, i imagine there’d be a strong bond between him and his partner to do this. he’s used to seeing you through the way he detects energy, it’s second nature to him, but he’ll never quite get over what it’s like to actually see you with his real eyes. his fingertips are shaking and he can’t seem to look at anything other than your face twisted in pleasure as he denies you your nth release of the day; it’s a carnal satisfaction. he tends to be very mouthy and loud whenever you’re going at it but with you splayed out in front of him like this, your body shielded by absolutely nothing, he’s rather quiet as he takes in every inch of you. it’s a form of depraved worship, in a way, that he feels so compelled to hardly even breathe to appreciate you and only you as much as he possibly can.

i’d be a liar if i said i wasn’t terribly down bad for Geto. long-haired men get me good and he’s no exception… he’s 100% into pet play and corruption you hit the nail on the head!! it’s half a control thing and half a desire to please, he doesn’t feel a lot of power over his life and being able to get some of that from what you two do together his cathartic. he’s partial to cat girls, having a little kitty for him to play with and to kneel at his feet brings him satisfaction like nothing else. Geto is also the best at aftercare!! he’s very tender in how he treats you, already having a nice warm bath and a glass of water ready… anything you need, just ask, he’d give the world to stay by your side as long as he possibly can.

prior to this ask, i’d never actually thought of Megumi before… but, hear me out, going off of his thing of sharing you with Yuji, i think he’s into being cucked. i’m sorry to be the one to say it but to my core i believe this is true and canon… when it’s just the two of you, Gumi has the tendency to get a bit nervous and lost at times so seeing someone he trusts so deeply take the reigns and really work to make you feel good without hesitation gets him going. sometimes he does get a bit jealous of the way Yuji palms at your tits or the way he gets you to squeal so loud but ultimately he knows you’re his. even if Yuji offered to snag you away, you wouldn’t accept because Gumi is the one you want (reassure him from time to time though). plus, after watching so many times, he gains a better grasp on what to do!! i think he also likes letting Yuji instruct him on just how to fuck you proper. <3

Sukuna… you are a man of many wonders and arms. he is absolutely the biggest biter of them all!! will use his normal mouth most of the time but really enjoys using his stomach mouth to nip at your ass when he’s plowing you from behind as the way you yelp in surprise never fails to get him going. he loves that having four arms means he can keep your hips still, choke you, and grope at whatever skin he wants all at the same time; there’s never a part of your body that goes missed. despite his claims of not caring about humans, there’s nothing that he loves more than having you dangle off his arm and getting to touch you in a way nobody else ever could. also, two cocks absolutely. prepare yourself to be stuffed full, he’s partial to having them both balls deep in your pussy.

FREAKY VIRGIN MAHITO IS REAL!! he’s all about experimenting so there’s really nothing he wouldn’t try honestly, it’s more of a challenge to convince him to not do certain things *shivers*… but that does come with a lot of bonuses seeing that he won’t write off anything so it’s free game for you!! odds are he’ll enjoy anything so long as he learns something from it, if it gets him off then even better. he’s naturally most interested in anything that’ll induce pain, emotional or physical, and things that allow him to be in complete control (submitting to a human? fat chance). Depending on how exactly he sees you, and how ooc you’re willing to take, you’re either going to be a good ol fashion pump n dump that he brutally slaughters OR you’ll end up being his forever pet that he won’t let out of his sight for more than fifteen seconds… both are a unique form of suffering but it’s Mahito, so there’s really no white picket fence ending option… regardless, prepare yourself to be used in the grossest ways. he’s got a particular fondness for watersports and anything that results in blood, with a preference for knife play and good ol aggressive biting, simply because he likes seeing you become a filthy depraved mess even when he’s being so cruel. i have a vague concept for a human au but even then he’s a nasty freak with no boundaries!!

adding Junpei onto this because he’s so dear to my heart and also the biggest incel. affection doesn’t come easy to him especially when it’s sexual, he finds being on the receiving end to feel as though it’s only because you pity him. try as you might, convincing him otherwise is going to take some time but he has no problem understanding his own feelings to be true although he’s shy… major panty sniffer alert, he’s too scared to actually try anything with you but he’s got his needs!! stealing a cute white cotton pair from your hamper is the next best thing to him and he’ll spend the next week with them pressed to his face whenever he’s alone, dick rutting into his hand messily. it’s subconscious but he also has a habit of stalking you around a little bit when he’s too nervous to actually talk to you but he swears it’s an accident!! he didn’t mean to learn your whole schedule it’s just that he sees you doing certain things more often!! he’s supposed to be on the other side of the city at that time for work?? you’re delusional, he was just… sent there for some sort of project, nothing weird at all he’d never!! huge whiner btw, babbles a lot when he’s finally fucking you.

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shu-box-puns · 1 year

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Leaning to put on an exopack

'You lose that mask, you’re unconscious in twenty seconds, you’re dead in four minutes.'

More of my Dad!Tsu'tey and Spider brain rot.

Right so when the school was still an active thing and before Sylwanin died, Tsu'tey attended with the other children. He was one of Grace's best students. Incredibly bright and eager to learn. Very competitive with Neytiri to see who could learn the most English words in the least amount of time.

Tsu'tey was not part of the group that set the bulldozer on fire. He wasn't even in school that day since his father had taken him and his brother out on a hunt for the day. By some dumb luck, he missed the entire situation.

The school got closed down. Sylwanin died of her wounds. And the Omaticaya learnt all they needed to about the Sky People.

But Tsu’tey wasn't done. He noticed that Grace's demon body often visited the school. She tidied the learning resources and swept the leaves.

He approached her on impulse one day, intending to chase her off but instead growing curious.

He demanded she teach him about the breathing masks the Sky People wore. How to disable them, how they worked. Anything he could use to his advantage should they turn their attention on HomeTree.

Grace had agreed easily enough. Tsu'tey assumed it was her love of teaching that convinced her, but he had a sneaking suspision she had simply had a soft spot for him.

She had turned to one of the cupboards facing the far wall, mercilessly untouched by bullet wounds, and began pulling out various exopacks for him to practice on.

If she was disturbed by his reasonings, she didn't show it as she cleared one of the tables and began setting the spare exopacks down. She turned away again, ducking down to drag out a human-sized silicone dummy for him to practise disarming.

The exopacks turned out to be easy to break. All he had to do was break the glass front covering the face or slash the breathing tube that connected the face to the small pack that typically hung from a belt or was attached to a backpack.

He found them incredibly bothersome.

"Very good." Grace complimented, and Tsu’tey returned his gaze to her. He recognised the challenge in her tone. Similar to how she used to goad him into pushing himself further during English lessons. His head tilted in silent question and the corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "Can you take them off without destroying them?"

He scoffed. Of course he could.

And then he attempted to do so and failed miserably.

Tsu'tey quickly discovered that the straps that secured the mask to the back of the skull were too small for his fingers and he often ended up tearing them clean off by accident. The valves were too fiddly and popped off easily. By the time he could confidently put on and take off the exopack from the human-sized mannequin Grace provided, she had a small mountain of packs in need of repairing.

Carefully removing the mask from the mannequin was counter productive and far more time consuming than breaking it. He told her as such and she merely laughed.

In hindsight and years down the line, Tsu’tey thanked Grace with all he had for her challenge. He prayed to the Great Mother, praising her for putting those curious thoughts into his head and encouraging him to take those lessons from his late teacher.

Every prayer of gratitude he'd ever learnt fell from his lips as he knelt curled over his vulnerable, sky person son. The limp boy lay unconscious in his arms, completely shielded from the forest within Tsu'tey's protective embrace.

At the hunter's feet sat Spider's old exopack, the glass front smashed in and the cables in disarray after he'd hit the ground hard and collided with a rock concealed by moss. By some miracle, Tsu'tey had remembered to strap a spare to his belt earlier that morning.

It had happened so fast. Terrifyingly fast.

By nature, Spider had always been clumsy. So Tsu'tey had assumed this fall was like all the others. With a roll of his eyes, he'd hooked his arms under Spider's armpits and hauled him to his feet. He hadn't stood when Tsu'tey had gone to set him back down.

The hunter's ears flickered uncertainly at the strange wheezing sound the boy was making. He realised that the mask was no longer hissing in time with every breath. Time had slowed as Tsu'tey glanced to the moss cloaked rock and recognised the shape and shine of broken glass. His blood had run cold and Spider stopped making that awful noise.

Somehow that was far worse than his son struggling to breath.

Instinct had had Tsu'tey scooping his son up into his arms. He spun him round and Spider had gone limp in his grasp. His lips turning blue and his eyes unseeing. He was still breathing. But each breath was shallow. Unfufilling.

Muscle memory had Tsu’tey scrambling for the exopack at his belt. His eyes were narrowed in concentration despite the sickeningly fast pounding of his heart. Those hours spent crouched over the silicon mannequin came in handy as he managed to slip the straps over his boy's face and turn on the air flow. His large fingers fiddled frantically with the buttons, eyes flicking all over Spider's face as the mask audibly suctioned on.

Spider did not wake. But the blue tint to his face had immediately subsided as Earth air flooded his system; filling his suffocating lungs. The seizing of his chest ceased and he finally stopped twitching. He looked like he'd fallen asleep again.

Tsu’tey could've wept with relief as he clutched Spider to his chest; fingers spread between his shoulder blades to support his back where he could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his hand. His head was cradled against his neck, where the rhythmic inhale and click of the exopack further calmed Tsu'tey's nerves.

He would live, he knew.

After years of war, he knew first hand what a dying human sounded like. How their body seized from the lack of breathable air, how they went deathly still, eyes unseeing.

In contrast, Spider was peaceful. Cuddling into his warmth and practically melting under his touch.

He’s been fast enough, he reassured himself.

And for now, that was enough.

#tsu’tey #Tsu'tey #spider #spider socorro #me looking at two characters who have never met in cannon and have no idea of the other's existence #i am loving the father son potential #father son moment #father son duo #found family

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diejager · 4 months

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Meeting in the same line of work as an operator. But the ‘reader’ in this scenario isn’t ‘small’. Being only just a couple inches shorter then Simon, and built quite large on the ‘bulk’ side. Spoopy Operator Girlfriend that can pick you up who doesn’t like that..? Boyfriend operator who’s used to interacting with women who prefer the feminine dainty life, now they gotta deal with reader being almost the complete opposite of what he’s used too!

(plus side of having operator girlfriend, no need to worry about being gentle, especially when their covered in scars like Simon)

Guess they can count their calories together as they get ready to work out…how many calories do you think Simon eats daily…?

I know shit about calories and being/feeling tall, but I can sure can try and live my dream in this >:]

Unusual Size Cw: fluff, implied smut, hookups, Ghost being confused, tell me if I missed any.

Ghost always thought himself as the provider in a relationship, the person who cared and protected —the shield. He always thought he preferred pretty and dainty women, like those he dated in the past or the rare and occasional hookups he brought to a motel room from the bar. They were good fucks, pretty things mewling and moaning beneath him, their pleasures spurred on by his broad stature and mask, but none were permanent, always a staple of his lonely nights. Ghost - Simon - knew who he was and what he liked —or so he fucking thought.

You came crashing through everything he thought of himself, a straight man into small and fragile women with painted nails and rouge lips. You were unlike anything he’d every seen, bulky and tall, limbs sculpted from hardened marble and mind made of rough wires. You rivaled him in size and broadness, taller than Gaz, broader than Soap and gruffer than Price. You were a carbon copy of him in your whole attire and equipment, decked in black and blues, lifting more than anyone he’d seen and broke through men like they were made of glass, shattering them in the same velocity of a bowling ball towards pins.

And when you shrugged off your mask, he was sure that he knew at least one thing about himself, that he was a straight and confused man, bordering on bisexual with how strongly he reacted to you appearing as a male with your deeper voice and gruffness. You were practically a man.

You didn’t need protection, you didn’t need to be provided for or to be cared for. You were as independent and strong as he was, someone he could equally depend on for help and comfort, to reach for someone he knew could take him as a whole: all his fear, all his scars, all his trauma and all his regrets. Simon knew you can take all of him, following him through thick and thin to pull him back from the depths of his mind, scattering his nightmares and bringing him into your strong arms.

Everything came so naturally with you, he trusted you with his life, having you watch his back when he cleared a room with you, and you trusted him just as much when you smiled at him before he left for overwatch. You worked together so effortlessly, he moved when you moved, and you stopped when he stopped, step for step and act for act. It came to the point where he was never seen without you and you were always shadowed by him, stuck by the hip and fingers touching, two giants in bulk and gear stomping around base with your masks pulled up and scaring people off. It was a sight to behold.

And in moments of vulnerability, where he once thought he had to be gentle and careful, he could fully throw himself at you without the fear of hurting you, using his whole body to press you down and his strength to hold you still, fingers bruising your scarred skin and growling out your name. He didn’t have to hold back and he didn’t have to do all the work, letting you take care of him, featherlight touches and tender kisses, praising him and encouraging him to let go. He didn’t know he liked to be treated softly, to be loved and gently handled, it was such a difference of his battle-hardened facade he put up.

He learned that he liked being reminded of his humanity, that he was flawed and that it was all right to be a wounded being. He learned that he liked you more than he did with small and dainty women, never having to hold back and being able to let go of his control. And he learned that it was fine to not conform to the imagine people had of him, to stand out for what he liked and favoured; to trust and to love; to be cared for and to be protected; and to share his pain.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #mw2 ghost #ghost #Tall!reader #cod fluff #fluff

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mqonlighting · 1 year

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spideypool thoughts because i am back in my sm/dp phase and loving every goddamn second of it !!

- something about the way their dynamic is actually healthy??? yeah no FUCK the i-can-change-him idea, but rather the I-CAN-CHANGE-FOR-HIM idea??? obsessed and I love it in terms of spideypool

- i am ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN for the legendary fics where spidey gets jealous of himself and is left in a state of pure shock about it whenever wade’s swooning over his latest crush peter parker like SOMETHING ABOUT IT IS SO PETER OF PETER TO DO AND ITS FUNNY AND MAKES FOR A DELICIOUS IDENTITY REVEAL

- coming up to the topic of identity reveals I have a LOT to say about them, first of all I find them so important to the progression of wade and peter’s relationship. it’s important because maybe, on a more practical level, peter feels like wade has so much at his disposal to exploit his identity — but it’s that exact mindset that makes the big moment so special. who peter is behind the mask is him in a state of vulnerability; at the end of the day, spider-man is everyone’s shield and their great savior and protector — including peter’s. he feels like he has to be so strong and brave all the time and have his guard up, but the moment he takes off the mask, it means that he trusts you with his fragmented pieces and trusts that you won’t break them any further. NOW TAKE THAT IN THE CONTEXT OF SPIDEYPOOL, WHERE PETER FEELS LIKE HE HAS TO HATE WADE BECAUSE WADE IS WHO HE IS BUT HE TRUSTS HIM ANYWAYS AND DOESNT KNOW WHY. gold

- this is something that’s like said a lot but there’s something so interesting about the fact that wade and peter as characters actually have very similar principles and characteristic points — they’re both funny, both use humor and quippage to cope with the turmoil and struggle constantly thrown at them, and they were both thrown into the deep end at young age. where their characters begin to diverge are the morals and ideas formed by their unique and individual traumatic experiences and coping experiences. for example, if ben hadn’t died and peter’s rageful side and irresponsibility only consumed him, who’s to say he wouldn’t have become a murderous killer the same way wade was? or even a mercenary the same way Wade did to try and support himself financially and care for his family? and if wade had grown up in a supportive household and learned the price of his actions, who’s to say he wouldn’t have become a hero like peter? EXPERIENCES BUILD CHARACTERS AND THESE TWO HAVE SUCH INTRICATE CHARACTERS

- something about their perceptions of one another physically. I TALKED ABOUT THIS IN ONE OF MY REPOSTS but the way peter is just an average, pretty good-looking guy and every time I write wade describing his features, it’s not “he’s hot” or “he’s sexy” or “he’s a model” but rather the small things no one would find beautiful or even unique about anyone. big, chocolate brown eyes, crooked, bashful smiles, the way he forgets to push up his glasses — literally who the fuck would care other than a person madly in love? EXACTLY.

- in correlation to the previous point, FICS WHERE PETER REASSURES WADE HE’S GORGEOUS IN EVERY WAY AND MEANS EVERY SINGLE WORD. if you love someone TRULY, nothing can be ugly about them. and peter sees the scars and wade thinks he’ll hate it but in reality peter adores it and thinks wade is unique and beautiful and interesting and all of that. AGH warms my lonely lonely heart

- wade would be very happy to do the upside down kiss. this is in fact a fic idea so by any means please treat this as a prompt

- BOTH DISASTERS BUT BOTH EACH OTHER’S DISASTERS!! look I love tired x hyper but something about these two being absolute hurricanes of awkwardness and then bonding over their weird ass references with occasional hints of tired x hyper banter makes my heart sing I honestly just love them (BONUS POINTS IF THE HINTS OF TIRED X HYPER IS DEADPOOL MAKING A FLIRTY STEAMY COMMENT, PETER GETTING FLUSTERED, AND THEN PETER TRIES TO HIDE IT WITH A TIRED EXHAUSTED ANGRY LINE OF DIALOGUE) or perhaps peter realizing Deadpool is a fun guy and unknowingly doing everything in his power to hang out with him mayhaps?????

anyways yep!! some of my incoherent head-empty-only-spideypool thoughts that I would like to share with the class ! < andd not to be a shameless self promoter but if you would like to see these thoughts written out then I’m on ao3 wink wink cough cough >

#spideypool #deadpool #peter parker #spiderman #thoughts #spideypool thoughts #ya know for the soul #spiderpool #spiderman x deadpool #wade wilson #comic spideypool btw pls don’t hate me #I LOVE THESE TWO #ON BREAK AND SUDDENLY THEYRE MY WORLD AGAIN #— mq ☽nshit

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halemerry · 6 months

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I've been thinking a lot about Crowley's clothing lately. Just. I know on the surface and on a scale perspective these are very different things but... there's something about looking at the clothes people are wearing and making your own take on that out of nothing that feels like an echo of the Starmaker creating a galaxy that someone else designed. While Aziraphale leans into the grounding of something physical with his clothes for Crowley it's like stretching an old muscle maybe. One you can't quite use the same way but also can't kill the itch to do something with. This isn't the same but it's still familiar. Like creation and modification and adapting an old idea into something distinct and unique are old habits.

And yet. You know what does seem to have the physicality that Aziraphale seems to favor? His glasses.

We don't know how Crowley's clothes interact with the world once they are off his body for the most part. The only hint we have really is the scene from the script book where he walks off screen and changes from pajamas into day clothes and walks back. But we do know that the glasses exist both before he puts them on and after he takes them off.

The choice to have them persist when he's not wearing them is an interesting one. It gives a little extra weight to an already highly significant object. Storing them in bulk in the Bentley tells us that having that physicality to them is important to him. They're a shield and they're physical and real. If his powers gave out they'd still be there, consistent and steady and there to protect and to ground. But they're also vulnerable in a different sort of way. Hastur can pull them off and take away that protection. They can break if you put enough force into doing so. The act of taking them off and putting them back on even willingly is an act with intent and not a matter of passing thought.

It's such a cool character trait, even if it's one I suspect is less about narrative forethought and more about practicality.

#good omens #crowley #good omens meta

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phillippadgettwrites · 1 month

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The First Time, Every Time: Miracle Man

Rated X / 1048 words / Tagging @today-in-fic / Posted on AO3

“The power of Christ compels you!” the old priest and the young priest shout in unison.

Streaks of holy water slash through the flesh on Regan’s legs, slicing her skin wide open. She floats above the bed, rigid and mottled, a shell of the child she was when the movie started.

Mulder’s hand slides further down Scully’s belly, slipping just under the waist of her sweatpants, and gooseflesh lights up all over her arms.

It’s actually really fucking cliche, a fact that they won’t be able to joke about for another six years. The scary movie, the dimmed lights, the flirtatious teasing about one or the other of them being too scared to keep watching. Mulder facetiously sat too close. Scully ironically pulled the blanket up to shield her eyes. He played pretend at comforting her. Somewhere along the line the joke stopped being a joke, and when he leaned forward and touched her jaw, she knew it wasn’t part of a bit.

He’s wedged on his side between her body and the back of the couch, and he appears to have aspirations of sticking his hand down her pants. Though she realizes intellectually that they’ve already made a handful of mistakes and would be wise to cut their losses, the fact that she hasn’t been laid in months paired with the empty wine glass in front of her on the coffee table are seriously clouding her judgment.

“S’that okay?” Mulder mumbles against her mouth as the tips of his fingers graze the skin beneath her belly button, and she doesn’t say no. She doesn’t say anything, just shifts her hips up in encouragement and lets her body do the talking.

It truly was an innocent invitation. She owns the movie, so it’s not like she went out of her way to rent it or anything. Mulder just seemed out of sorts after their latest case, and she felt compelled to cheer him up. She typically finds moody men insufferable, but Mulder actually talks to her about the things that sour his mood, and often even takes her advice, which makes it exponentially less irritating. She’s truly flattered by how willing he is to be vulnerable with her, a trait that she initially thought to be compulsive but later realized is specific to her.

She gasps and clamps her thighs down on his forearm when he sinks a finger into her, and he immediately stills.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, pulling away a little, and she shakes her head and grabs the back of his neck to tug him closer.

Far from hurting her, he just woke up nerve endings that have been dormant since Bush was in office, but she’s not about to tell him that. She can’t remember the last time a man spent this much time kissing and touching her without trying to stick his dick in her. Just when she has that thought, Mulder gently grinds against her hip, and she feels herself quivering around his fingers at the idea of fucking him. But of course they can’t do that. They shouldn’t even be doing this.

He’s very respectful. He asks before he takes off her shirt, her bra, her pants. He doesn’t ask if he can take off her panties, but that’s only because she shucks them off herself when he stands up to slip his jeans off and she sees his cock swing free. Legs spread, lined up, sharp sting and oh. Oh, oh, oh my.

“Oh my god. You feel—” he starts, and she shuts him up with a kiss.

They can’t talk about it, it’s too…real. They’re naked, and he’s inside her, and the screen on the TV has gone black because the movie is over, making it that much darker in her living room. Scully closes her eyes and tries to forget who she’s fucking, and why she shouldn’t be doing it, but she can’t. The way he smells, the way he feels, the exact pitch of his moans—it’s Mulder. Mulder, Mulder, Mulder, god—she’s going to come. Is he going to come?

They didn’t even use a condom.

“Wait,” she says abruptly, pushing on his shoulders.

He pulls out of her and hovers there, breathless, for a beat.

“Is something wrong?”

“We didn’t—I don’t have a condom,” she says.

She can feel every inch of skin on her body burning bright red with embarrassment. It’s real. They just did that. She just fucked her partner. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Okay,” Mulder says reluctantly, sitting back.

She senses that he might have more to say about his clean bill of health, or questions about whether she’s on birth control, but after a moment he starts to get dressed and she follows suit.

“I hope I didn’t…pressure you in any way,” he says, a silhouette against the haze of the streetlights, and she’s exceedingly grateful for the relative darkness.

“No, not at all,” she assures him. “But maybe…do you think we can just pretend this never happened?” she asks, wincing when her voice cracks a little.

“Okay,” he says. “If that’s what you want.”

She turns on her desk lamp, which gives off enough light that he can find and put on his shoes and jacket, but not so much that he’ll be able to see how red her face is, or how swollen her lips. She walks him to the door and avoids eye contact as they say awkward goodbyes, but he’s clearly lingering and she doesn’t know why he won’t just go so she can begin the process of repressing this night deep into the far reaches of her memory.

“Was it really that bad?” he finally asks, and her head snaps up to find a somewhat pained expression on his face.

“Oh, no,” she stammers. “Not at all. It was fine—it was good, that’s not why…”

A slow grin breaks out over his face as she struggles for words, and Scully huffs in irritation.

“Glad to hear it. Night, Scully,” he says, giving her upper arm a squeeze. “See you Monday.”

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she grumbles, flashing him a tiny smile before she closes the door behind him.

She’s not sure if they just ruined her favorite movie, or just made it her favorite for an entirely new reason.

#x files fanfic #the x files #xf fic #xf fanfic

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connecting-the-stars · 1 month

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As a freshly new Bad Batch enjoyer, I’ve just finished running through season 1 holding onto Omega like she is my little sister and staring at crosshair menacingly.

S1 final was so epic! Like the sea monster and the escape from the collapsing city! The atmosphere was just so awesome and really makes me want to write. The tension of constant danger but having character moments and conflicts shine and clash. Omega without a hesitation jumping to save crosshair from drowning and the others working to rescue them. Crosshair always setting himself to the outskirts of the group as they plan and work together, his hesitation before following the group. He is not a happy camper.

Moments that I loved (Last two episodes):

Tech noticing the reflective point on the wall. That frame of the mark encapsulating Tech and Wrecker. He recognized it from past missions and the tactics they’ve learned. Wonder what was going through his head when he first saw that? Like precaution that crosshair could aim for them at any point? Or theorizing that crosshair would use it to shot the soldiers if they turned to target them?

Crosshair killing all four soldiers of his party was crazy cool! Like damn! And turning back to them without a beat and taking his helmet off! Like he’s peeling back that resentment if only for a chance to have his brothers join him again. Don’t get me wrong he’s still pissed, but it’s vulnerable in of itself to even ask, to have that chance to get hurt by the people who you believed had abandoned you.

Omega and her attack droids plan would’ve worked great for a diversion and escape attempt if, you know, Crosshair had ultimately sided with his troopers to murder his brothers. But she’s a ball of determination and improvised plans that work Sometimes!

The brothers fighting TOGETHER! AHHH! My Face peeled into a bigass smile. Their theme coming back in full strength! Crosshair helping hunter! Tech and wrecker’s confusion before jumping into the fight again.

Omega-Hunter Hug! That’s her Dad/brother! “You are my dad! You’re my dad! Boogy woogie woogie!!”

Hunter and crosshair stand off! Stop fighting like for once! Just stopppp! (I know I have a longer ride for this, and its Great :’D )

Little droid guy was very fun! AZI is a real one!

Everyone having to get paired up in the lab tubes lol. Bruh they really are going back to the very beginning- very cool. Echo and Tech looks so small compared to wrecker who hardly fits in the tube by himself. Crosshair and Hunter - definitely thought they’d start a fist fight in that tube thing, like one of them shoves the other and it escalates how sibling fights go from 1 to 1,000 in two seconds. And one of them would crack their elbow into the glass tube and cause a piece to crack ominously and they just freeze. And Omega, Tiny is in fact Tiny. That tube is almost as big as her “room” lol

Omega gonna give me and hunter a panic attack with her reckless selflessness. Like dude the droid is very dope and very helpful, but you are in a graveyard of a city and the damn sea monster is very much alive and well!

Crosshair aiming his gun at hunter when hes about to jump after her, very tense moment. And He Saves “the kid!” YYAAY. Hunter shielding her away from crosshair anyway- a bit dramatic lol. Wrecker not putting his guard down till Cross gives up his weapon… damn- Family Bonding, am I right : D

(Side note: Tech is one of my favorites… sure hope nothing bad happens to him. = D )

Anyway, Im just really enthralled by this show and I love space stories. Especially ones that tick practically every trope I adore. Found family (in a way.) SPACE! Badass good guys. Morally gray characters that find their way back to a healthier and happier life… eventually.

Season 2 time!! WOO!

#they are FAMILY!#thoughts aloud #writing inspo #bad batch #the bad batch #im running through the series with out of context spoilers all over the place but its so fun!#tbb #the bad batch season 1 #bad batch s1

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therandosfandos · 3 months

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Fry protects and comforts his little robot after said robot gets beat up badly for cheating with x-ray glasses at poker

@frenderbender09 @euforimorily

In the heart of New New York, at the Planet Express headquarters, Fry, Bender, Leela, Leelas former boss and co-workers, and Zoidberg gathered around the poker table for a friendly game. Laughter filled the air as cards were dealt, and Bender, ever the schemer, slipped on a pair of x-ray glasses under the guise of luck.

Bender's confidence soared, fueled by his newfound advantage. But luck, it seemed, was not on his side.

As the game progressed, Bender's luck seemed too good to be true. With a sly grin, he used the x-ray glasses to see through the cards of his opponents, gaining an unfair advantage. However, luck can only take one so far, and Bender's deception didn't go unnoticed for long.

Leela's former co-workers and boss from the cryogenics lab, recognizing Bender's cheating, erupted in fury. Accusations flew, and before anyone could react, chaos ensued.

"You dirty cheat!" one of them bellowed, grabbing Bender by the arm.

In a frantic attempt to escape the impending chaos, Bender darted into another room, hoping to evade the wrath of his adversaries. But fate had other plans, as the enraged mob quickly caught up to him, unleashing their fury upon the hapless robot.

With merciless efficiency, they pounced on Bender, tearing off his right arm and left leg with brutal force. Dr. Zoidberg, in a stroke of unfortunate luck, found himself caught in the crossfire, his clothing shredded in the chaos. Bender's metal exterior was left battered and glitching, a pitiful sight amidst the wreckage of the room.

As the blows rained down on Bender, a torrent of tears streamed from his optical sensors. The pain of betrayal and the sting of his own foolishness overwhelmed him, leaving him broken and vulnerable.

"Back off, all of you!" Fry's voice echoed through the room, cutting through the clamor of violence. With tender care, he gathered Bender into his arms, shielding him from further harm. Despite the chaos swirling around them, Fry's touch was a soothing balm to Bender's battered frame.

Fry's chest tightened as he knelt beside Bender, his heart aching at the sight of his beloved robot in such disarray. "Bender," he whispered softly, his voice filled with worry and affection.

"Hey, it's okay, BenBen," Fry whispered, using one of the many affectionate nicknames he had for Bender. "We'll fix you up, you'll be good as new."

Bender scoffed, trying to maintain his tough exterior. "Yeah, right, like that'll happen. I'm just a worthless hunk of scrap metal."

"Don't talk like that," Fry chided gently, stroking Bender's dented casing.

Bender tried to hide his distress behind a façade of toughness, but the sight of his torn limbs and glitching circuits betrayed his true vulnerability. "I-I don't need your pity, Fry," Bender muttered, his voice wavering with emotion.

Fry smiled tenderly at Bender, refusing to let his partner's tough exterior deter him. "Alright, sweetheart. Let's get you back in one piece," Fry replied, his fingers deftly maneuvering as he began the delicate process of repairing Bender's damaged components.

Bender's protests faltered in the face of Fry's unwavering devotion, his heartache laid bare as he allowed himself to be cradled in Fry's arms. "I'm sorry, Fee," he whispered, his voice barely a whisper as Fry began the painstaking process of repairing his damaged body.

As Fry worked tirelessly to mend Bender's broken body, their playful banter filled the room. "You know, BenBen, you really need to lay off the cheating," Fry teased gently, his eyes sparkling with affection.

Bender rolled his optics, but couldn't hide the hint of a smile that tugged at his lips. "Hey, what can I say? Cheating's in my programming," he quipped, his tone lighter than before.

As Fry worked, Bender's glitches began to subside, his frame straightening as he leaned into Fry's touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "Thanks, Fry," he muttered gratefully, his voice a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

Fry smiled tenderly, his heart swelling with love for the robot at his side. "Anything for you, BenBen," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "You're my sweetheart, my buddy, my everything."

Bender chuckled weakly, his usual bravado returning as he affectionately ruffled Fry's hair. "Ah, don't get all mushy on me, meatbag," he teased, his voice tinged with affection. "But thanks, Fry. I owe you one."

"You know, Bender," Fry said softly, his voice tinged with sadness, "you don't have to pretend with me. It's okay to let yourself feel."

Bender grunted in acknowledgment, his defenses crumbling as he allowed himself to be vulnerable in Fry's presence. "Thanks, wiggles," he murmured, a hint of gratitude seeping into his usually gruff tone.

Gently wiping away the tears, Fry held Bender close, offering him the comfort and reassurance he so desperately needed.

"I don't deserve you, Fry," Bender whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Fry's heart swelled with love for the imperfect robot nestled in his arms. "You may be flawed, Bender, but you're perfect to me," he declared, his voice filled with unwavering devotion.

"..perfect..", Bender repeated and cuddled up to his fleshy lover.

"Just perfect", Fry confirms and the two stay cuddled up for the rest of the night. And as they settled down to rest, Fry held Bender close, his love for him shining bright in the darkness.

#futurama #bender #fry #frender

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natashasfilms · 2 years

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Chapter Fifteen - The Mind Flayer

Summary: With the days leading up to the fall, Aria had hoped to spend her last summer after high school with her friends before she went off to college. She didn’t expect to deal with the monsters she and her friends supposedly defeated months ago once again, nor did she think she had to deal with heartbreak in the process.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Original Female Character

Warnings: This story contains mature themes such as sexual content, strong language, violence, mentions of alcohol and drugs, blood, gore, and death.

Note: I imagine Aria Kaul as South Asian but I have decided to let you, the reader, imagine her appearance, hence the reason why I have not given her a face claim. However, her race does not affect the story, whatsoever. You, as the reader, are free to imagine her however you want. If you don’t see her as South Asian, then that’s fine. It won’t affect the storyline.

Series Masterlist

Aria retrieved a shotgun from Hopper’s cabin, finding another one and throwing it to Nancy. She caught it and gave her a nod.

She began inspecting the house, watching everyone lock and shield the doors and windows. “Hey, get away from the windows.” She told the kids.

They formed a circle, their backs to each other, and waited. It was completely silent but Aria knew it was going to pop up any second.

The lights started to flicker, objects in the house slowly moving. They heard stomping noises outside and everyone was breathing heavily, waiting for the worst to happen.

“He’s close…” Will said.

They heard trees rustling outside and the plates clattering in the kitchen, startling them.

Then it was quiet again.

“Where’d it go?” Max asked.

The mind flayer stuck its arm through the window, shattering glass everywhere. They all screamed, backing into a corner. Jonathan used his axe to cut it but it ended up not budging after the first hit, as it was stuck.

The mind flayer threw Jonathan into the wall but then both Aria and Nancy started to shoot it, gaining its attention on only Aria. However, after a few shots, both of their guns were jammed, leaving Aria in a vulnerable position.

She backed into the wall, closing her eyes and moving her head to the side as the mind flayer moved its arm closer to her face, ready to eat her. But it was stopped by Eleven, the creature struggling against her powers.

Aria opened her eyes to see Eleven hurting it and then eventually, cutting the ends off. The other part moved back out of the window, leaving them in silence once again.

But that wasn’t the end as it crashed into the roof, two of them at once. Eleven gasped, struggling to take them both at the same time and then she snapped the ends off again, panting.

She wasn’t prepared when the tentacle grabbed her leg, sliding her across the floor. She was about to get dragged into the air until Mike grabbed her arms, pulling her back.

The mind flayer was too strong, trying to pull her away but everyone gathered around, holding onto the girl. Aria and Nancy managed to fix their shotguns, raising them up to shoot the mind flayers' mouths.

Jonathan started to scream at both the girls, urging them to shoot the monster. “NANCY! ARIA! SHOOT IT!”

They started shooting it, the monster shrieking in return. The mind flayer was losing its control but it still had a huge grip on Eleven’s leg, hurting her.

Lucas took the axe in his hands and started slamming it into the monster's tentacle, trying to cut it. He repeated the action a few more times, while the girls shot the mouth, before it finally worked, the tentacle ripping away from the monster.

Mike saw the remaining piece of the monster stuck onto Eleven’s leg so he pulled it off, causing a scream to leave her mouth. The piece of the mind flayer crawled out of the house, going back to attach itself to the monster again.

The mind flayer roared into the opening of the roof, not having yet enough. Eleven slowly stood up, limping, and used all her strength to use her powers to attack it, ripping it in half. She then fell into Max’s arms, too tired to move.

“Go, go, go, go!” Aria, Nancy, and Jonathan yelled, ushering the kids to leave the cabin.

They all ran outside, getting into the car as fast as possible. Their eyes fell on the monster currently on the roof, now slowly making its way down.

Nancy drove, speeding away as far as possible from the monster.

She drove them to a closed grocery store, breaking the glass of the door by throwing a brick, to enter. Mike and Max held Eleven, helping her walk.

They helped her sit on the floor and Nancy pulled her pant leg above the spot where the mind flayer bit into her. They all grimaced at the sight, blood oozing out of the skin.

Eleven groaned in immense pain. Nancy started opening a gauge packet she grabbed from the shelf, along with alcohol, to clean the wound.

Aria stared at her, furrowing her eyebrows. She grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Nancy looked at her, confused. “Cleaning the wound.”

She shook her head. “No, first, we need to stop the bleeding, then clean, then disinfect, then bandage.” They all stared at her, confused, and eyebrows raised. She avoided their gazes, looking down. “My mom works at the hospital. Trust me.”

She took the gauge out of Nancy’s hand, pressing it down onto Eleven’s wound.

“Mike, hold this.” Aria instructed, making him press his hand down on top of the gauge. Eleven groaned in pain again, leaning her head back against the shelf. “Keep the pressure on it, nice and firm, okay?” She turned her head towards Nancy and Jonathan. “We're gonna need water and soap.”

They nodded their heads and stood up, rushing to get the required materials. She heard something crash behind her, both Aria and Max turning their heads.

Lucas dumped out everything that was in his bag, looking at the two girls. “Does any of this help?”

The girls furrowed their eyebrows, shaking their heads. “No.” Said Max. “Go get us a washcloth and a bowl.”

“A bowl?” Lucas questioned.

“Lucas.” Max said sternly. “Go.”

“Okay.” Lucas said, walking away with Will following him.

Aria faced Max. “You seem to know a decent amount about how to clean a wound.” She said, smiling at the redhead.

Max chuckled. “Yeah, well, I skateboard.” Her eyes met Aria’s. “Trust me.”

Aria nodded her head, a small smile on her face. They waited for Lucas and Will to return with a bowl but they never showed up so the two girls stood up to investigate and find them.

They found them near the fireworks, rolling their eyes. “That doesn’t look like a bowl.” Max stated.

The boys turned their heads. “Nah, it’s way better.” Lucas responded. “There is a reason this warning label says ‘18 or older.’” He continued, grinning. “This sucker is filled with 150 grains of black powder. AKA gunpowder.” Aria tilted her head, thinking about what he said. Lucas threw a box into Max’s arms. “Strap two of these together, and it's bigger than an M-80. Five of them, we've got ourselves a stick of dynamite.”

“You wanna kill that thing with fireworks?” Max questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you have a better idea?” Lucas asked.

“Uh, yeah. Eleven.” Max nodded, throwing the fireworks box back into Lucas’ hands.

“Against that thing?” Lucas raised his eyebrows. “She's gonna need some backup.”

Max rolled her eyes, sighing, and walked away. Aria stood there, a smile forming on her face. “You know, it’s not a bad idea, actually.”

Lucas’ face lit up. “Really? You think so?”

The girl nodded her head. “Yeah, I think it could really come into use. Let’s take these with us just in case.”

Lucas nodded and started grabbing the boxes, putting them into Will’s hands. Will walked away to grab a cart to put all of the fireworks in while Aria helped Lucas gather the boxes.

She grinned. “You know, Lucas,” she started to say, making him look at her. “This is why you’re my favorite. You have such great ideas.”

He beamed at her confession and started to gather the boxes quicker, putting them into the cart when Will returned. Soon, the stand was empty, the three of them ‘stealing’ all of the fireworks from the store.

Mike started to tell the group that Dustin finally contacted them through the walkie-talkie but he wasn’t able to hear a single word he said besides “gate” because it kept cutting out, so now Eleven was using her powers to locate Dustin and his whereabouts.

They stood around, waiting for the girl who was sitting on the floor to find Dustin. Lucas opened a soda can to drink, causing Max to glare at him because of the sound.

Aria listened to Lucas go on a whole rant about the soda he was drinking was delicious after Mike questioned how he was drinking that. Their conversation got a little loud because Eleven took off her blindfold, scolding them.

They quietly apologized but the girl continued to glare at them. “Did you find them?” Mike asked her.

They gathered all of their items, the fireworks, in the cart that Lucas was pushing, and exited the store. “The movies?” Lucas questioned. “Dustin's so freaked out about the gate, he decides to go watch a movie? Yeah, makes total sense.”

“You're positive he said ‘gate’ and not ‘great’?” Max asked Mike.

“Yeah, like, ‘This movie I'm watching is great.’” Will added.

“Sounded like "gate."” Eleven answered.

“Which would explain how the Mind Flayer's still alive.” Mike told them.

“Yeah, we just have to shut it again.” Nancy said.

“Then the monster dies.” Aria added.

“But if not, we always have Lucas' fireworks.” Max mocked.

“Keep mocking my plan, Max.” Lucas told her. “Keep mocking it. I wanna hear you say it again, because you keep doubting me. You keep doubting me!”

They exited the store, putting all of the materials into the car, and getting in, making their way towards Starcourt Mall.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington series #angst #fluff #reticent series #steve harrington x aria kaul #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic

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justanothercloudinthesky · 1 year

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Hii ! May I ask for a male haikyuu matchup please ?

I’m a girl and I go by she/her, my zodiac sign is Leo and my actual Mbti is ISTP-T.

Personality :

I am an ambivert ( a mix beween introvert and extrovert). When I’m surrounded by strangers, I tend to be really shy and calm. When I’m with my friends or people I’m comfortable with, I’m more extroverted. I laugh and smile really easily and basically laugh everyday. I am seeing as the protective friend that can stand for themselves ( but it sometimes depend on the situation) and for others because I can’t stand injustice. I'm also quite stubborn and sarcastic but I love to « be chill ». To continue, I’m collected but have a certain attitude. All that doesn't mean that i'm not polite and respectful because i really am. Finally I’d say that I’m creative, empathetic and passionate but emotionally vulnerable and really self-critical : sometimes I just feel like I could be a way better person, less « mean » and more « gentle ». I also know to be serious when it is necessary. I’m also really open-minded and trustfull but I sometimes don’t have a lot of self-confidence (but I don’t show it and just pretend to be). I don’t like people who assume when they had make fun of someone or something like this.

Hobbies :

I really like to cuddle, just chill in general, listen to RNB/ US Rap ( I listen to Quintelli, Summer walker, HER, SZA, Muni Long, Brent Faiyaz, Drake, Future, Tyler the creator, Bryson tiller, Travis scott, Gunna…) and I play piano. I also love to watch anime/Disney+/Netflix, horror movies, shopping…

Appareance :

I’m a black west indian girl and my height 5’7 (171cm). I have black 4c hair (I often wear braids) and slightly almond-shaped dark brown eyes. I have glasses but I never wear them. I have a mini brown mark under my right eye because of an accident with boiling oil when i was younger (yes i was a little but clumsy 😭). My general style is a mix between streetwear, Y2k and fancy.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day !!

Hi, Thank you so much for Checking The Weather, Your forecast is...

Aone Takanobu!

Ah yes, Aone. He's kinda an under-rated character but I do honestly think this would be an absolutely adorable couple. Aone is super sweet despite his outward intimidation factor. He's shown that not only by his words in the anime but also by being so respectful to Hinata and his teammates.

I believe Aone also has a strong sense of at least order (if not justice) as he's usually the one keeping people in line through his stares. I think he would also admire the heck outta you for your calming, yet firm, personality. Hear me out, you've got an internal sense of passion, and as shown with his interactions with Hinata, Aone really respects that

He'd awe-struck by your creativity and open-mindedness, and would never take advantage of your trusting spirit. You'd bring a sense of joy and passion into his life with your smile that Aone would do almost anything to keep. I think also in a way he would encourage you to be a better person too. He wouldn't find you mean, but would help you find a way to put the effort you spend stubbornly caring to come off a little softer. I headcanon that Aone would accidently fall for your really pretty brown eyes, he just has that vibe.

I don't know if you'd necessarily find too much overlap in hobbies, but that's not a bad thing at all! You would honestly be able to bring the adventure of trying something new to each other! He's also a cuddle bug so that's something- hed use you as a human shield during horror movie jumpscares. I also honestly think he loves to listen to you play piano. He feels his hands are too big but is touched beyond belief if you put your hands over his hands and help him.

Overall i think it would be a really wholesome couple, and I think you'd honestly make him really really happy

Second:

Kenma, he honestly was a super close second. But adter working it a bit i think it could get a tiny bit dull if neither of you made an effort

Third:

Daichi, I don't know why but he was my first thought and I think he'd be your best friend, i just don't think that chemistry would come naturally.

I hope you liked it, please let me know if you did! And Thanks for checking your Weather Report

#YourWeatherReport #Original anon #oh my gosh #This is toooo cute!!!#I play piano too!!!!i #Please let me know if you liked it #haikyuu matchups #cloudpassingby #aone x reader #Aone hcs #x reader matchup

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lipglossanon · 1 year

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┌───── •✧✧• ─────┐

M༙྇r༙྇.༙྇ S༙྇i༙྇n༙྇i༙྇s༙྇t༙྇e༙྇r༙྇ ☽☪︎⋆ R͓̽e͓̽m͓̽i͓̽x͓̽

└───── •✧✧• ─────┘

꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂

This is a a fork in the path so to speak from how my original corrupt cop Leon fic goes; this one veers off in a darker direction so please heed the warning. Unsure on when (or even if!) I’ll add more to this; I just liked how much of a creep Leon is here. 🫣

Warning: dark!leon, slight perv!leon

꧁ ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*`*•.•꧁꧂•.•*`*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ ꧂

He doesn’t stake out Lovers Lane too often, but tonight he’s extremely glad he did.

“Lost?”

Your head quickly looks over at him and you give him a shy smile, cute dimples showing.

“Uh n-no. My date, he uh,” you frown, pretty eyes glancing at your shoes, “well, things didn’t go his way so I’m walking back to my car.”

Leon’s eyes rake across your body, a low heat building in his stomach. You’re so vulnerable right now. He feels his pulse race in excitement.

“That’s a shame,” he clicks his tongue drawing your bashful gaze back to him, “I can take you seeing as it’s at least a few miles away. Assuming it’s the parking lot, right?”

“Yes it is! You really don’t mind?” Another of those dimpled smiles grace your face.

“Of course not,” Leon grins, boyish and sweet, “hop in the back.”

You sigh in relief and catch his gaze in the rear view mirror, “I really appreciate it, Officer Kennedy.”

“It’s no problem, sweetheart.”

You give him a soft thank you as he nods and he pulls back onto the road.

A few minutes pass by as you gaze out the window watching the trees pass by like dark shadows on the glass.

“So you and your boyfriend huh?” Leon asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. The anticipation is building inside him.

You look away from the scenery, brow furrowed as you look at the back of his head.

“Yeah, he um..”

You trail off, feeling embarrassed. You shuffle in your seat and tug on your skirt.

“He didn’t hurt you did he?” Leon’s sharp voice cut in.

“Oh no no,” your eyes widen with surprise, “he just wanted to go further than I was comfortable with.”

Your voice trails off as you bit your lip. Leon watches in the mirror. He loves the look on your face. Uncomfortable and unsure.

“Boys can be very hotheaded. Especially when they’re with a pretty girl. And you’re a very pretty girl,” he spoke, voice still tinged with that dark edge.

You feel your cheeks warm, eyes catching his shyly, “I-I guess.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I won’t have any of that. Say thank you, Officer Kennedy.”

“Thank y-you, Officer Kennedy,” you stammer out, wide eyed at his tone.

Leon gives you a lazy smile, “Good girl. We thank people who give us compliments, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you feel a sense of foreboding tinged with a low pulse of arousal at his words, “thank you.”

His smile widens, “Anytime. I bet you’re just the sweetest thing, huh. No wonder your boy pushed his luck. I bet you’re still a virgin.”

You press your palms to your face, shielding your embarrassment, “That i-isn’t appropriate to—“

Leon laughs, “Yeah you are, just a sweet, little virgin.”

You press your thighs together, hating and loving the way he was speaking to you. Worry is beginning to creep into your thoughts at the way this police officer is acting towards you.

Leon’s sea dark eyes took in your flustered appearance, “Bet you’re wet right now, pretty girl.”

You let out a harsh gasp and Leon laughs again. You watch as he pulls off into a thick copse of trees, the road disappearing behind you before shutting the car off.

“I think you need someone to show you the ropes, sweetheart,” Leon murmurs in the quiet.

He gets out of the car and makes his way into the backseat with you. Or tries to at least. Seeing the opportunity to get away, you slip out of the door and run back the way you came.

You hear a sharp laugh coming from the officer and as much as you want to turn and look, you make yourself keep running forward.

“I’ll give you a head start,” he calls out to you, voice delighted, “gotta keep things even.”

Sadly, it doesn’t take long for you to get turned around, and now you’re playing a terrifying game of hide and seek with a man who is obviously deranged.

He taunts you but it doesn’t sound like he gets any closer to you as you keep moving away. You finally see a cluster of trees that looks familiar. You’re close to the parking lot where you met up with your date. You left your car here and took his up to Lovers Lane.

You feel like crying with relief, but you’re quite literally not out of the woods yet.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Your heart rabbits in your chest. You crouch close to the ground behind a large tree. Too scared to look around, you keep your eyes focused on the murky dark surrounding you. The moonlight barely breaks up the gloom in this creepy forest. You’ve been out here for hours already.

“C’mon now don’t hide from me. You know I’m gonna find you,” his voice croons sweetly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, a few stray tears escaping. Pressing a hand over your nose and mouth you take a quick breath peering through the foliage.

You don’t see anyone or anything moving. You can’t even hear footsteps or crunching leaves or twigs. Standing up from your crouch, that awful feeling of pins and needles rushes through your legs. You grit your teeth through it and slowly move around the trunk.

Your car isn’t parked too far away. At least you don’t think it is, and if the coast is clear you’re determined to make a run for it.

You’re as quiet as a country mouse, as your grandma used to say, and as soon as you make it to the far side of the tree you take off running.

Between one heartbeat to the next, you feel the skin on the back of your neck prickle. Turning to look behind you, you can’t make out anyone or anything. Facing forward again, you let your legs carry you closer to your car and hopefully out of this nightmare.

A hot breath caresses your neck.

“Gotcha.”

Your shout is muffled my a palm covering your mouth as an arm wraps around your stomach and pulls you backwards.

You scream and thrash but the body behind you is steadfast.

“Aww, poor baby,“ he laughs in your ear, a dark rumble you can feel in your chest, “as fun as its been, sweetheart, I think I’m gonna like this part a lot better.”

You try to bite at the hand wrapped around your face, but only get a mean laugh at your attempts.

“Sloppy, baby. So very sloppy.”

You still struggle and fight against the man carrying you deeper into the woods, but the further he goes the more tired you’re becoming. You decide to stop and save your energy; you might get a chance to escape later.

You feel him sniff your hair making goosebumps run down your arms.

“Such a pretty girl,” his voice is gravel in your ears, “silly, too. But you’re all mine now.”

You feel the fear you’ve been trying to keep at bay ratchet up inside your chest. You twist your shoulders and arms as well as you can, needing to pull his hand away—at least free your mouth, you feel like you can’t breathe. You can’t breathe.

Oh god, you can’t breathe.

Fuck!

You can’t breathe! You CAN’T—

Spots dance in your vision for a split second before the tunnel vision hits. You widen your eyes as much as you can, but the darkness is continually getting worse— you kick your legs feebly as the fear finally whites out your brain and you pass completely out.

Leon gazes down at your limp body with a wide smile. It really has been his lucky night tonight.

#Mr. Sinister Remix #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x reader #fem reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #leon kennedy x reader #corruptcop!leon kennedy #corrupt cop!leon/fem!reader #corrupt cop!leon s kennedy #corrupt cop!leon #resident evil au #lipglossanon

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

Text

Boruto x Hinata: Guilty Pleasure by FutaSenpai69

Anime » Naruto Rated: M, English, Parody & Hurt/Comfort, Boruto U., Words: 3k+, Favs: 132, Follows: 93, Published: Jun 12, 2017

"I hate you, stupid dad!"

After exclaiming such, the enraged blonde ran upstairs, the door being slammed behind him heard soon after. Hinata paused as she was busy cleaning the glass cup in her hand. Though, soon after, she continued to clean it off, placing it upside down on the rack next the other cleaned dishware.

"I'm off. See you later."

Hinata could sense the pain in Naruto's voice. Boruto was so tough on him, yet Naruto didn't react in the least. Nonetheless Hinata had grown tired of Boruto's disrespect towards him. She had stood by, but now she could no longer tolerate his behavior.

After wiping her hands with her towel, Hinata then places it upon the counter. She then made her way upstairs and towards his room door, standing before it. She could hear the muffled sounds of voices being played in the background. Hinata knocks upon the door.

"Boruto, it's your mother. Open up." Hinata states.

No answer. Again, Hinata knocks upon Boruto's door, though with a bit more force with it.

"Boruto, open this door immediately!"

Still, no answer. Boruto was really starting to get on her last nerve!

It was one thing to neglect them, however, this was going too far, and Hinata will not stand for this disrespectfulness!

It was uncharacteristic to see her upset like she was now. She was going to give Boruto a stern scolding now.

Whatever he was doing that kept him from answering his door sure better be worth stirring up her mood.

Nevertheless, none-especially her-would anticipate something like Hinata was about to. Albeit, it was typical with adolescents like Boruto.

"Ok, now I'm mad!" Grasping his doorknob, Hinata turns the golden knob clockwise, thus undoing the door latch and allowing her to open the door.

"Boruto!" Hinata exclaims as she storms into his room. Although, after entering the room, not only did she discover the source of Boruto's distraction, but she had walked in on him while he was at his most vulnerable: with his pants down. Literally. Boruto was seated in his computer chair with his trousers around his ankles. She had also noticed that he was watching porn on his computer, too, yet that didn't surprise as much as Boruto did.

"Mom!?" Boruto was startled by her sudden intrusion. As a last second effort, he absentmindedly grabs the pair of underwear that he had been using, using those to cover himself with as he shielded his erection from sight. "M-Mom! You can't just walk into my room like that!"

Hinata hadn't yet snapped out of her shock-induced state. Whatever she was mad about before, she had forgotten about it now.

"Boruto, were you just...masturbating?"

Boruto couldn't suppress his embarassment, which manifested itself as the tint of red upon his cheeks. He was also avoiding direct contact, another sign of how abashed she had made him. But after studying the underwear he had used to cover himself up with, Hinata quickly knew who they belonged to-her!

Now she was even more shocked.

"A-Are those my panties that you're holding?!" Hinata inquired as she points an accusing finger at him.

"So it was you that have been taking my underwear? And here I was thinking that it was your father doing so. I can't believe this...my own son's a pervert! Where did it all go so wrong?"

Hinata covers her face with her hands.

"W-Well, if you weren't walking around in such provocative clothing at night then I wouldn't be like this!" Boruto retorts, his way of turning the tables on Hinata. And judging by her sudden change in expression, it clearly worked.

"I see you parading through the hallway at night in that see-through nightgown. I was able to see both your panties and bra so easily! So if there is anyone around that's perverted, it's you, mother!"

Now it was Hinata's turn to feel embarrassed. He had seen her in her sexy attire that she wore around the house? Naruto had bought that for her as an anniversary gift a few months ago. It was a pretty, black translucent robe that had black feather edges on the wrist and neck area. She had only worn it because Naruto requested that she do so. She was oblivious to the fact that Boruto saw her wearing it. So it was partially her fault that Boruto was acting this way? No! He was stealing her underwear and using them to masturbate with, so his lack of self-control is his fault! Still, why did Hinata feel slightly aroused after realizing this...?

"Boruto, I..." Hinata was at a loss of words. What could she possibly do now knowing that she was the one that turned him into a pervert? Was there anything she could do? There was only one option for her at the moment, and that was to take responsibility.

"If I'm the reason why you're like this, then I take full responsibility..." She states, motioning towards Boruto's bed, where she then sits.

"Boruto, if you want, you...you can use me!" Hinata splurts out, clearly nervous.

Boruto couldn't believe what he was hearing. She actually wanted him to use her? Was this really happening?

Boruto was certain that she was lying, though as she sat there, she was clearly being serious. Could Boruto actually follow through with this?

Boruto was practically trembling at this point, evidently too timid to initiate anything. It was the fact that she was his mother that deterred him. It was one thing to do it surreptiously, but to have the privelege to do so infront of her was an whole different matter. Hinata caught on this, questioning if he had enough resolve to do it. However, after mustering up enough of his own strength, Boruto was able to encourage himself to continue.

And with his trembling hand grasping his shaft, Boruto began to stroke himself.

"Oh, God, he's really doing it... He's really masturbating to me!"

Hinata's shade of red intensified as she watched Boruto's hand move along the shaft of his erection. She hadn't watched anyone masturbate since around the time when Naruto and her first started dating; however, this was fascinating her. It was wrong to say, but it was.

There could be nothing more awkward than what he was doing now. Boruto was masturbating infront of Hinata, whom was staring at his penis as he did so. She seemed very intrigued by his actions, her eyes solely focused on his cock and nothing else. This was just too awkward to do infront of her! If he were alone then there wouldn't be any issues. Maybe if she were facing the opposite direction then it wouldn't be so bad. Since they had come this far and crossed their boundaries, any further actions wouldn't be any more damaging, now would it?

"Mom, can you turn around for me? I wanna see your butt..."

"Wait, what?! Was he...is he asking for me to show him my ass? Is he seriously going to use my ass to masturbate to?"

Hinata couldn't believe that he would request such a thing, however, nevertheless, she had done what Boruto had requested, and she had turned around with her back facing towards Boruto as she positions herself on his bed.

"Now, hike up your dress..."

Again, Hinata had done as he instructed, with her pulling her dress upwards to reveal her lower half to Boruto. She was wearing purple panties today. She just hoped that that this was all he was asking for, because there was no way that she was going any further than this. He should be thankful that she is even complying with his wishes.

Boruto began to gain more confidence in himself now that he had control. The authority he had over Hinata-it had boosted his confidence greatly. Man, Hinata has such a great ass. It was like a backwards heart in a pair of purple panties. Now with her in a desired position, Boruto's hand was no longer trembled and he moved more casually while stimulating the shaft with a intermediate tempo. Boruto's heart began to race as he grew more excited, his erection now rock hard in his right hand.

"Mom's ass is so sexy. I could only take peaks at it every now and then, but now that it's infront of me, I can't control myself!"

Hinata had buried her face in Boruto's sheets. This was too much for her. But to make matters worse, she was getting aroused by it. It had been such a long time since she felt so wanted by someone, and it felt nice. Recently Naruto had begun to ignore her. She knew that his duties as the seventh Hokage was paramount, though she wished that he would pay attention to her sometimes. And even their sex life was going down the drain at this point, too, so now only was Hinata not being neglected, she was horny as hell, making this even worse for her because she did not want to be aroused by her own son, even though she was. This just wasn't right!

Just as long as he didn't put it in her, then they would be fine. But moments after thinking about that, she suddely felt something hard and hot betwixt her cheeks, prompting her to look over her shoulder. To her utter surprise, Boruto had positioned himself behind her.

"Boruto, what are you..."

"I couldn't just masturbate anymore; I want to feel what it is like having my dick between your ass cheeks, mom."

Hinata was speechless. Had he not known that she was wet? It would be so embarrassing if he discovered that she was getting aroused from his actions.

Before long, Hinata could feel his hands grasp her hips, with him soon moving. He was hotdogging Hinata.

Boruto was in heaven. He was hotdogging Hinata, something he could only fantasize about. But this was far more amazing than anything that he could imagine. The friction produced by the rubbing between his penis and her ass was phenomenal. There was no way he would last much longer if the pleasure was this good.

"Putting his penis between my ass? I'm not sure how that works... Maybe it stimulates him by doing this?"

Hinata glanced over her shoulder to study Boruto. It appeared he was engrossed by his actions, his blue eyes focused on what was going down below. The sheer expression of concentration had reminded her of how Naruto looked when he was behind her while they were having sex. He really was enjoying this, wasn't he...

After resuming to study him, Hinata noticed his expression altering gradually. It looked as if he was tensing up, his face becoming contorted in a sense. Hinata could also feel his embrace on her hips tightening as this occurred. He was about to finish.

Boruto was already halfway there, precum staining her purple panties. Boruto had passed the point of no return, the tension in his penis becoming greater. Involuntary hip jerking occurred as a result of this. His grasp upon her hips tightened. This was it! He was going to explode any second now!

Boruto was going to blow his load on Hinata's ass.

Hinata could hear Boruto's breathe hitching as he drew closer. He was about to finish any second now, that was for sure. But Hinata was happy that she could supply pleasure to Boruto with just her ass.

Pulling away from Hinata, Boruto strokes himself vigorously, only to fire multiple strings of his pearly load over her purple panties.

"Oh yes...!" Boruto groans out in ecstacy as his load was fired. It had soon drowned his mind with pleasure. Ejaculation felt amazing! Not to mention that her panties were soaked from his multiple loads.

Hinata's eyes grew wide as she suddenly felt his loads being shot. It was all over her panties, which soaked them and made them cling to her in a very uncomfortable fasion. It was insane that he could shoot so much by just using her ass... It was way more than Naruto produced. Amazing...

With her finally being able to sit up, she turns around in order to glance at Boruto. She could see that he was recuperating after such an intense orgasm, and she was sure that he had nothing left. But she was wrong; as she studied him more, Boruto's erection was revived, ready for a round two. His recovery time was incredible. And just after shooting so much, he was ready to go again.

"Boruto, this is enough. You've gotten what you wanted and ejaculated on my butt, so we are stopping here," Hinata informs Boruto.

"It's bad enough that things have escalated this much. We have to stop before-"

Hinata was cut off mid-sentence as she felt her panties being pulled downwards.

"Hey! Are you listening?! Boruto, stop! We mustn't continue!"

"You say that, but why is it that you're so wet?" Boruto inquires, rubbing his erection against her drenched slit.

"Boruto, I'm serious! If you stick that in me, I'll-!" Hinata's eyes grew owlish, her mouth agaped. What she felt now was nothing other than the sensation of something entering her. She had been breached, the intruder being none other than Boruto.

"I-Is this what pussy really feels like? It's warm, yet so wet and tight, too... It really feels good..." Boruto thinks to himself shortly after entering her. He knew he was going to be in a great deal of trouble after this, but he didn't care. For now, he was going to experience what it's like being inside a vagina. Grasping her hips, Boruto began to move, his hips moving back and forth slowly.

"H-He's moving...!" Hinata could feel him forcing his way deeper into her, spreading her. The pleasure was incredible, even better than she could imagine it would.

"Boruto, please...stop this..." Hinata implored, placing her right hand upon Boruto's thigh. She didn't want to feel such pleasure at the hands of her own son, however, it was happening. Gradually, Hinata began to feel weak against him, her strength and resistance dwindling by the second. But she had to keep fighting!

It was bad enough that she had allowed him to masturbate on her ass, though now they were actually physically connected. This was insane!

Boruto was engrossed by his actions, consumed by his own desires. With his blue eyes fixated below, he watched his movements intentively, as if to ensure that he was doing it right. It was also quite a nice view: seeing his mother below him, ass up and head down...it was a sight that Boruto could only dream of experiencing. It had aroused him greatly that he was crystalizing one of his darkest desires. Hearing her beg earnestly for him to stop, followed by placing her hand upon his thigh, Boruto couldn't help but glance at her.

"He's too far gone. There's no way I can stop him now. I'll just wait until he finishes, then we'll stop."

Realizing that this was best action to take, Hinata simply kept her gaze forward, towards the wall. She could hear his escalated breathing. Her eyes closed. It was impossible for her body not to react to his ministrations. When it came down to it, her body didn't discriminate against satisfaction, that being the reason why she was so stimulated.

"She seems pretty relaxed right now. Maybe she gave up on resisting?" Boruto figured. "Still, her pussy is starting to squeeze a lot tighter than it was a second ago. There's no way that I can hold out like this for much longer..."

Boruto could feel the tension occuring once more; however, this time, the sensation was stronger than before. With his grip once again tightening, Boruto's eyes closed as he was bitting upon his lower lip. His thrusting grew more intense, the sound of slapping skin like applause that pervaded the air of the blonde's room.

"B-Boruto..." Hinata noticed how aggressive Boruto's thrusting became, her cheeks red from the lewd sounds that their bodies produced as they collided roughly. She could tell that he was getting closer to his orgasm, as his actions spoke for him. Was he really going to ejaculate inside her? Did he know the consequences of doing so? Hinata may have tolerated him going this far, but he will not ejaculate inside her. The results would be disastrous!

"Boruto...you need to pull out...now," Hinata warns Boruto. After realizing that he had neglected her words, Hinata was forced once again to demand that Boruto pull out of her, despite the fact that her mind was like a scrambled egg right about now with all the pleasure overloading her mind.

"B-Boruto...!"

"Mmm! I'm about to...cum!"

He grunts through his teeth. Hinata, alarmed by his statement, knew then that she had to take action before it was too late.

"No!"

Since it was a last resort and that Boruto wasn't listening to her, Hinata abruptly jerked forward, disconnecting their groins by doing so. And it was in the knick of time too since, after doing so, Boruto had just ejaculated and she could feel another series of warm shots upon her ass yet again. She might as well get rid of those purple panties after this.

"That was close... A second longer, and he would've shot it inside me..."

Hinata was catching her breath as she laid there, recupperating. She couldn't believe that Boruto was willing to cum inside her... Then again, it was probably because he had reached that point where he couldn't stop himself. Either way, Hinata was going to admonish him for his actions. Turning to look at him, she noticed that he was sitting up on the bed, his eyes closed. He looked as if he was exhausted, as well as somewhat sweaty.

Looking down, Hinata noticed how limp he was, his cock now losing its vigor. Thank goodness. Hinata wouldn't be able to endure another round if Boruto was still active.

Silence fell upon the room for a moment. They both managed to recover, but now they wouldn't even look each other in the eyes. Lines had been crossed; boundaries have been passed... Now the two had to marinate in the shame that was sex between mother and son. There was nothing they can do to repair it.

"My panties have become so sticky now. The cum residue has made my favorite panties ruined..."

Hinata sighs as she glances at her panties, absentmindedly flashing Boruto in the process. Though she didn't realize this until she noticed Boruto looking, to which she then quickly lowers her dress. Her blushing had returned too, something she had made sure he couldn't see as she had her head turned.

"Are you disgusted?"

Hinata's eyes grew wide after hearing this.

"I know you are, seeing as you can't even look at me... But, then again, I have to be if I'm using my own mother to masturbate to... Such a good son that I turned out to be..."

Hinata could hear the shame in his voice, and it was heartwrenching to her. He felt guilty for his actions, but then again, she had a hand to play in this, too, so he wasn't the only one. Truth be told, she actually enjoyed it. It wasn't hard to substitute Boruto for Naruto because they were practically identical. However, despite bit of reassurance, wrong was still wrong.

"Boruto, I-?"

Hinata paused. Was that...weeping? Was Boruto weeping? It was at that moment did her motherly instincts activate, and she wanted nothing more than to help Boruto. Wrapping her arms around Boruto, Hinata embraced him, this proving to be adequate to holtering the flow of tears that were trailing down his cheeks.

"Boruto..." Hinata spoke in a soft tone, "you're not the only one at fault here." Hinata goes on to explain.

"If I hadn't wore that nightgown the way I did, knowing that I had another man around, you wouldn't have turned out this way."

"Man...?" Boruto reiterates, as if questioning the word itself.

"Yes," Hinata replies. "And since this is my doing, whenever your father and Himawari aren't around, I'm giving you permission to use my body, okay?"

Boruto's eyes had lit up with such joy, as if he were just told the best news in his entire life.

"However," Hinata quickly includes, "You're only allowed to do it with a condom on-and only when we are alone. Got it?"

The excitement had died a little, nonetheless, Boruto was still elated about this.

"So, does that mean that from now until Himawari gets home from school that we can still do it?"

"Wait, you're still..." Hinata glanced downwards, only to see the slightly arched organ now revigorated and ready once more for use. His libido was just like Naruto's when he was in his youthful days.

"Then let's go for a round three..."

Boruto tells Hinata before pouncing upon her, pinning Hinata on the bed.

That day, Boruto had gone through an entire pack of condoms, and Hinata hadn't experienced such soreness after numerous sessions of sex...

#boruto fanfiction

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