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#he’s got more hair so I think he’s got the skill with it
screampied · 2 days
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‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’
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ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?
wc. 5.7k
warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.
an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)
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sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .
the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..
you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.
“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”
“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”
“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”
“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”
you were taken aback at how blunt he was.
a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.
you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.
“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”
they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.
“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”
“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”
“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.
sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”
“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”
your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.
a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”
“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”
“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.
toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”
and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.
not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.
the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.
inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.
“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.
sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.
you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”
“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”
sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.
“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”
“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.
he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”
you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.
you gulp, damn.
he wasn’t just big, he was huge…
your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.
staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.
“spit the fuck on it.”
five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.
you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.
once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.
“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.
“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.
“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”
your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.
“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.
“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”
one turns into two, then three, then four. . .
your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.
you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.
toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.
“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.
you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.
soaking, sopping wet,
three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.
the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”
you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”
“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.
“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.
idiots.
your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.
“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”
your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”
“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.
“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”
sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.
“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”
sukuna glares.
“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”
“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”
easy, sure.
with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.
he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”
“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”
“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.
you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.
who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?
“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”
toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.
“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.
so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”
“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”
you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”
“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..
toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.
“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”
sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”
you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”
“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”
you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.
“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”
he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”
“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.
with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”
“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”
“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”
“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”
still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.
“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.
you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”
toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.
when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.
“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”
“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”
toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.
he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”
he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.
“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.
you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”
toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”
“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.
“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”
sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.
“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”
“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.
toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”
“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”
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erose-this-name · 1 day
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Kabru is such a brilliantly written character, one of the best in Dungeon Meshi (which is a high bar as it is, most of the main cast are similarly genius). 
His thing is that he is very friendly and nice confident and maxed out his charisma stat, but is also kinda ambitious and manipulative. But not in an overtly malicious way. Which kinda scares me.
The most impressive thing about him, writing wise, is that it’s all show-don’t-tell. He very frequently uses his charm and empathy and understanding of how people think in really clever ways. We’re often walked through his thought process of how he does these social deductions. We’re never told he’s scarily charismatic, besides other characters reacting to him being scarily charismatic.
Kabru is a natural-born leader and social engineer with superlative skills in both, which makes him the perfect foil for Laios, who’s too autistic and unambitious that he’s not even the de facto leader of his own party that he’s the official leader of. He’s so bad at leadership that his party just, sort of, doesn’t have a leader. They just kinda argue and do stuff.
What’s also neat, and perfectly inline with Meshi’s general theme of clever and logical subversions of fantasy tropes, is that Kabru’s character design in no way clues us in on this fundamental character trait of his.
He’s sort of a human fighter / knight archetype, which in the language of fantasy RPGs is a class most would associate with being a white bread jock, chivalrousness optional. (Laios subverts the same trope in the same way. It’s really funny that the walking exposition dump of the group looks like the character creator default preset spec’d as the most generic class available.)
If Kabru was a bard or noble and Laios a wizard, their character traits would be far less interesting
Even better is that we would expect someone who looks like Laios to have Kabru’s personality, and vice versa. Their character designs are flipped; the confident super charismatic leader is a short wide-eyed twink, while the slightly naive and very autistic monster enthusiast is a tall conventionally attractive Aryan lookin’ mf. (see what I mean by Kabru being such a good foil for Laios?? No wonder everyone ships them, they’re perfect for each other!)
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Yet, their designs also work for them. Kabru just has a face that’s easy to talk to, his piercing blue eyes and curly hair gives him a false sense of naïveté, while his iconic 👁️👁️ expression hints that there’s actually quite a bit going on inside his head. Meanwhile, Laios believably looks like someone who doesn’t know what hair conditioner is. His armor’s collar gorget thing is also pretty dorky.
You can’t trust people like that (I mean overly charismatic people with a manipulative streak, not blue-eyed twinks) because you can’t know what their real motives are. You can’t know they aren’t pretending, you can’t know they aren’t trying to or haven’t already manipulated you. How could you? When he has so much more social intelligence than you do, average socially awkward Tumblr user? He’s touched all the grass!
In episode 16 (spoilers, btw) Kabru finally meets Laios’s party, who he’s been trying to find and fight for the better part of the season, and he just decides that no confrontation is necessary. Like, immediately upon meeting the guy. Just from how Laios looked at him. He figures that since Laios didn’t seem to recognize him, they either have never met meaning he has the wrong guy, or Laios forgot meaning he didn’t think it’d be a big deal, meaning the treasure was a trap or something. Which is pretty in line with Kabru’s established ability to always roll nat 20s for every charisma and deductive reasoning check, so cool.
But he doesn’t even seem curious about which of those cases is true. (He might be interested to find out some of the treasure wasn’t dangerous, but accidentally got thrown off a bridge). Much to Rin’s dismay, he’d rather just not bring it up because that could upset the leader of the party he might be working with for the foreseeable future.
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Actions speak louder than words. So, all we really learn in this scene is that Kabru’s goals and M.O. can change on a dime, and that he values reputation and political capital more than money and vengeance. More than his own party’s desire for those things. Not only is he someone with a silver tongue, but he knows its value and is determined to use it at every opportunity.
Kabru and his party might not be very good at fighting or surviving in the dungeon, in fact their frequent TPKs are a running gag. But, he also doesn’t need to be when he can just manipulate Laios’ and Shuro’s much more proficient parties into helping him.
So far, Kabru seems like the most likely one to become king of the dungeon or whatever the mcguffin is. He is the only protagonist so far who has said that’s an actual goal of his. He’s said that he doesn’t think someone like Laios who isn’t a born leader should get it.
In fact, Kabru seems to have very strong opinions on what kinds of people should be allowed to adventure in the dungeon, evidenced by the fact that he murdered an entire party over it, justified or not. Kabru seems to think that Kabru is such a leader, and he’s probably right about that, but what kind of leader? 
What would Kabru do with that kind of power if he gets it? Because I’m not sure. All I know is that he is the kind of person with the ability to use real political power to its full potential. For good, or for very, very bad.
I’m not saying that Kabru is evil or that he’s secretly gonna be the surprise villain. I dunno, I haven’t read the manga. He could just be a nice guy that’s just, like, is like that. Everything he’s done could be justified by the explanations he’s given. He actually reminds me a lot of one of my IRL friends, and I’d trust him with my life.
But, I can’t help but feel a distinct sense of unease whenever he’s on-screen. I try not to trust confident natural-born leaders like him right out of the gate. I don’t like that our instinct as humans is to blindly follow them without thinking about it.
Tyrants and psychopaths also use confidence and charm and a friendly demeanor to make people think they’re a good guy, while manipulating everyone into thinking their self-serving actions are altruistic. Benevolent, confident, skilled leaders do exist. But there exists many more snakes wearing their skin. Wolves rarely bother with sheep’s clothing, they dress as shepherds and sheepdogs.
Anyway, my point is that I think it’s kinda neat that it’s possible to overthink this much about a character whose probably just a nice guy that is the mirror opposite of an autistic person. Writing that kind of ambiguity is hard, and employing it in this way is inspired.
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diazsdimples · 3 days
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hey james! for buddie or bucktommy. i’m making you choose jsdjskf “why are you looking at me like that?”
Hey Nolan!! I'm gonna do Bucktommy for this one, if you don't mind!!
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Tommy asks as he once again catches Buck staring. Buck flushes deeply, a pretty pink running up his neck and into his cheeks until he feels like his whole face is on fire. Never before has he been with someone so skilled at reducing him to a giggly, blushing mess like Tommy can. It's like Tommy has a direct line to the "Idiot Centre" in Buck's brain and can activate it with a simple look or a few well timed words. "I-I'm just - I mean, I wasn't - looking at you like what?" Buck stammers. Honestly, he's got no excuse for the way he was gazing at Tommy, all lovesick and dopey like a highschool girl. His boyfriend is hot and he's still a giddy that Tommy's with him at all. So he stares at him sometimes? Sue him! Tommy grins, his nose scrunching in a way that has Buck's stomach go all fluttery, and he rounds the kitchen island so he's no more than a couple of inches away from Buck. Close enough to have Buck's heart rate going up a couple of notches, but still too far. He needs him close, needs to be able to feel Tommy's chest press against his as he breathes, needs to feel Tommy's lips brush his as he speaks, needs to feel Tommy's co- Okay yeah, he's getting a little carried away. It's not his fault. "You were looking at me the way a 2000's teen girl would have looked at Justin Bieber whenever he flicked his hair," Tommy teases, and Buck wishes a hole would open underneath him and swallow him up. "I was just-" he begins, going redder still when Tommy crosses his arms and watches him with a half-smirk, his head cocked to the side. He looks far too adorable for his own good and it's not helping Buck's dilemma at all. "You're cute," he finishes lamely, unable to meet Tommy's eyes because he just knows Tommy is going to be looking at him with that soft, amused look on his face, like watching Buck bumble and ramble his way through their relationship is his favourite pastime - which, it probably is. "I'm cute," Tommy repeats, and Buck can hear the delight his voice. It's mortifying. It's humiliating. He's going to run away and live in the forest and become a hermit and - Suddenly Tommy's lips are on his and oh, yeah that's okay then, Buck can go with this. Buck can definitely get behind kissing Tommy if it means he doesn't talk and make even more of a fool of himself. Plus, Tommy's got this way of completely taking Buck apart with his lips, kissing him so thoroughly that he forgets his own name, forgets every little detail about himself except that he's kissing Tommy. Tommy pulls away and Buck pants, a little breathless from the kiss. Their foreheads rest against one another and their breaths mingle, warm and heavy and full of affection between them. "Well the good news is," Tommy says, his voice husky enough that it sends little shivers of joy down Buck's spine, "I think you're cute too." What else is Buck meant to do than blush once again?
Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!
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popironrye · 6 hours
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The Lost Boys
Leisure Headcanons
💋 David 💋
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Is a skilled fire arm shooter. (Loves the cowboy aesthetic)
Has his own gun hidden in the cave.
Doesn't get the chance too often, but will ride a horse when the chance arises.
Likes wood carving. Mostly non specific whittling into basic shapes or animals. It helps him relax.
Movie nut! When the boys go the Max's store to fool around, David makes sure to tuck a movie or two that catches his eye in his coat. Tends to watch them alone, all the questions from Paul would just grate on his nerves too much.
I imagine David would be like REALLY good at origami for no particular reason. He doesn't even try, just once the boys do it just because and he's just the best at it.
I don't know if vampires can emerge in water in the lost boys lore, but if they can David loves to swim. Chilling in water clears his mind.
💀 Dwayne 💀
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Skater boi! Does a lot of sick tricks, but when you can levitate it's less impressive. XD
Doesn't care for guns, but likes archery. Hammers his own arrow heads. Dwayne and David like to pick a spot in the woods to shoot make shift targets.
A real book worm. Will spend a lot of time just silently reading for hours.
Takes up knitting from time to time. He prefers hand knitted blankets and throws rather then the store ones.
Likes to make jewelry. Made his own necklace.
Enjoys all types of puzzles. Cross word, jigsaw, and brain teasers.
Can sew and offers to sew up holes made in all the clothes the boys decide not to get new ones.
🌿 Paul 🌿
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Can play the guitar.
Also likes to sing, and is pretty good at it. Wanted to start a band, but the other boys weren't up for it.
Has the biggest music collection and is always hogging the tabletop/cassette/cd player.
Amateur photography. Just likes to take photos randomly. Some are really artsy.
Got really into tie dye for a while. Although he might have just been high.
When he wants to relax, Paul really likes to stargaze. Laying outside the cave looking at the sky and hearing the waves of the ocean just makes him feel at peace.
When David isn't using the tv monitor, Paul enjoys quite a few video games. He also likes to take on the arcade and carnival games at the boardwalk.
🪶 Marko 🪶
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Aside from pigeons, Marko will try to domesticate a number of animals to the cave, including stray dogs, cats, deer, badgers, squirrel, foxes, bats, and even a black bear once.
He did in fact not domesticate a black bear, but he did wrestle one.
He does his own patchwork on his jacket.
Like David, he likes to sculpt into wood, but he usually carves patterns and landscapes into more grand pieces.
He's also a skilled painter. Mostly he'll paint murals on sections of the cave David says is ok for him to paint on.
He collects sea shells on the beach.
He'll style the others hair. Especially David who he'll cut and dye in the way he likes best.
🔥Pack Activities🔥
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Dart throwing. The bigger the target the better. David and Dwyane are very competitive at this one specifically.
Rollerblading. Put wheels on shoes, what more can you want?
Listening to music. The boys have very wide music tastes and sometimes they cross over and they all like the same stuff. They take turns around the player of their choice to just smoke, drink, and listen to the sounds of the music plays.
Card games. Specifically poker when they're all together. They make things more interesting when they make bets.
And of course motocycle cruising and board walk loitering.
Something that always strikes me with vampires in fiction and indeed with any immortal creature with the high and emotional intelligence of humans. IMMORTALITY IS FUCKING BORING!
I mean, think about it. Imagine you're given all the free time in the world with very little responsibility with no fear of getting sick or tired allowed to do pretty much whatever you want. What would you do? Cause I would go stir crazy. So I came up with these dumb little head canons on how I image the boys specifically would pass the time in their little vampire lives that doesn't revolve around murdering and feeding off of people.
Of course cruising on their bikes come to mind. And there's a couple in the movie we get to see like Dwayne's skateboarding and Marko's fondness for pigeons but I wanted to throw more possibilities out there. :3
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Miguel O'Hara x Reader Headcanons
Summary: How you and Miguel found yourselves in a situationship of sorts.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader
Warnings: Miguel gets angry when he's worried (it's a canon event guys). A very sultry kiss and implied smut towards the end. Me using far too many of the adjectives at my disposal just to describe this man and all the things he makes me feel.
I went and saw Across the Spiderverse TWICE in a week while it was in my hometown, and immediately started drafting fic for this goddamn gorgeous problem of a man 🔥 He just gave me too much to work with and I may or may not have spent entire months watching every single compilation I could find for "scientific inspiration". For my headcanon purposes, reader is a spider-hero as well, but I left her pretty vague on purpose -- feel free to fill in her costume/powers/skill set with your own spidersona :)
*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)
• He would say he had no idea when or how it started -- you, on the other hand, were taken by him from the first time he gave you his whole "canon" spiel.
• How could you not be? He towered above you, body chiseled like a Greek God, angular face equal parts weary and arrogant.
• And that voice -- rich and smooth as a silky black coffee -- it would be safe to say you were pretty smitten right away.
• To his surprise, you worked your way into his inner circle fairly quickly for a new recruit. Although you definitely had your own opinions, you knew when and how to push his boundaries and when he wasn't in the mood for it.
• Soon he trusted you to handle yourself with minimal supervision from him -- and maybe that trust was the beginnings of it for him. Because even though he recognized your competence, he still found himself continually assigning you to his personal strike squad, not to look after you, but because you somehow didn't annoy the hell out of him.
• Which comes in handy for everyone else after a while, because soon that translates over to you soothing the proverbial beast when he's biting the heads off of the more sensitive Spiders.
"How could you be so STUPID -- !"
"Okay, Miguel, I think they got the point."
"But they -- !"
"I know. They know. It's okay, let's all just take a breath."
"¡Ay coño! Nadie me oye. Todos son idiotas."
But he does back off, and does take a breath, and everyone else stares at you like you're the second coming of Christ.
• Your fascination and admiration for the intense head of the Society soon turns to a genuine enjoyment of his company. He's not much of a conversationalist, but you're okay with silence, and sometimes you just...end up keeping him company in the monitor tower after missions and he just...lets you.
• You soon notice the ungodly hours he keeps and start leaving him an empanada and a black coffee at the end of the day when you leave -- you know how dangerous he gets when hangry and undercaffeinated.
• It's a bit strange for him at first (someone is actually choosing his company over the bombastic personalities of the other spiders?) but Miguel soon gets used to you hanging around, and the hairs on the back of his neck finally stop bristling at having a fellow person in the room.
• One thing he absolutely can't figure out is why the scent of fear never radiates from you, even when you witness his occasional equipment-trashing tantrums. But he somehow doesn't quite mind that he can't intimidate you.
• He would strongly deny he ever gave you favorite treatment, but some of the others do realize he's not QUITE as hard on you when you challenge his decisions.
• Sometimes you check on him late at night before you go home; you can tell when he hasn't slept in a couple days by the way his shoulders hunch and how often he pinches the bridge of his nose against an oncoming headache (though sometimes that's just from dealing with Peter (x100) for too long).
• And that turns into you staying in late to keep him company while he swipes through screens upon screens of things that require his personal attention.
• That's how you end up finally seeing the videos of him and his little girl; he probably forgot you were there and her loss hit him all over again and before he knew it you had seen what he was like once, when the lines on his handsome face were from smiling so widely instead of losing sleep over the fate of all of reality.
• Neither of you really address it for a long time, but you know, and he knows you do, and there's this weird comfort that settles between the two of you after that.
• He already knows your story of course, and your canon events, but when the pair of you finally start talking during those late nights you share the little details, and you have the feeling that he wants to care about the small things, he just can't with the much larger picture he has to handle.
• It's little things that make it past his unbreakable outer walls -- the fleeting brush of your hand across his back as you pass behind him, the way you can hold eye contact with him longer than anyone else, the seemingly flippant way you blow him a kiss every so often when he sends you off to go make yourself useful elsewhere. Casual things, but he notices.
• And you want to tell him you're in love with him, but have a feeling he doesn't want to hear those words, because once they're out in the air, it means you both can't sidestep it anymore, so you don't.
• After a particularly rough mission, he's angry and you're shaken up, and he doesn't mean to react the way he does, but he takes it out on you, scolding you for what almost happened, and you fire right back because you're emotional, and the two of you end up raising your voices and everyone else just kind of...leaves the room.
• Then silence.
• You and Miguel are breathing hard, staring at each other. And something fragile takes root in the empty space between you.
• "Could you do me a favor and maybe not get yourself shocking killed?!" he growls at last, and there's a raw edge to it you haven't heard before.
• You laugh brokenly. "What do you really care, O'Hara? There's literally hundreds of Spiders here; I think you'd be okay."
• "¡Coño! How can you be so blind?!" He's snarling now, full lips pulled back and sharp teeth on display. "I thought we were on the same page for once."
• You're totally unprepared for when he grabs your shoulders and forces you to look up, right at him. "I can't lose someone else."
• He's so close, and his angry mouth has softened. And maybe you've lost your mind, but he's already angry, so what do you have to lose, really? At least that's what you tell yourself as you take the plunge and lean in.
• And to your surprise, he not only meets your lips, he kisses you back with matching fire, and what was supposed to be a simple, singular impulse turns into an unexpectedly heavy ongoing process -- fingers raking through hair, bodies pressing together, hotly whispering things neither of you remembers.
• And then as quickly as it happened, it's over, and you're on opposite sides of the room again like sulking cats, and he sends you home.
• You don't talk about the incident for weeks. Life goes on.
• But then one night, he offers to take you home when you both stay behind late, and at your door he apologizes for his lapse in professionalism, and you admit you...didn't mind. At all. He doesn't seem in a hurry to leave, and wanting to distract him from his work for at least a little while, you invite him in.
• And somehow what was supposed to be a sweet goodbye-and-thank-you kiss a couple hours later turned into exploring touches and murmured questions and agreements and how damn good his arms feel locked around your body; and when the sun filters in through your window in the morning he's long gone but your skin still smells like him and you realize that actually happened.
• You assume it's a one-time thing. People make mistakes, after all, no hard feelings.
• Bur when Miguel holds you back after a mission several days later and wants to make absolutely sure that the other night didn't make things uncomfortable between you, you go out on a limb and admit to him that you really enjoyed it.
• And he has to take some time and process that.
• But eventually he shows up at your place late one night again, and it starts to become a bit of a regular thing. So much so that you give him the spare key to your apartment and he starts to leave some of his clothes there sometimes. You love wearing his shirts, because they're enormous as hell on you, and you sleep in his clothes whenever you can't have his skin against yours.
• (For his part, he also likes when you wear his shirts, because then your throat, shoulders, and thighs are that much easier to get at.)
• And life goes on.
¡Ay coño! = (Expletive)
Nadie me oye = No one listens to/hears me
Todos son idiotas = They're all idiots
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OC interaction game
Thanks @willtheweaver here and @illarian-rambling here!
Rules: describe an OC and pair how they would interact with the given OCs from the people who tagged you!
Will's OC Fen
Fen is a crow. But he does not act like one, having grown up among the foxes of the forest. All his life, he has had to keep his identity a secret. For obvious reasons, Fen does not let too much of himself be known. What he does show is an understanding nature ,and a knack for bringing out the best in others. Storyteller, a good fighter, tracker, and cook, he is skilled in many arts, though you’d never know that from the way he stays humble and modest. He values friendship, and will support those he trust.
Katie's OC Daedryn
Daedryn is a lady knight with one eye and red hair. She's the divine Chosen of Loqang, god of rivers and loyalty. Due to this, she is fiercely loyal to whatever person or organization she has promised herself to, to the point of following orders for orders sake. Outside of battle, where she is a force to be reckoned with, she's very sweet, a little awkward, and loves to talk about her god, who she sees as her best friend.
My OC Lexi
Lexi is a middle school girl (12-13 in the first book) who's popular, talkative and energetic. She has more acquaintances than she can keep up with (but don't tell her that!!! They're all her close friends who she must hang out with and support!!), and a close circle of companions she may hold on a little too tight to. Metaphorically, as her haphephobia prevents her from wanting physical contact. She has a mini backyard garden and indulges in nerdy pop culture, at first for her sister, then she found out she liked it. Lexi is very organized - she has a color-coded schedule she Will Follow No Matter What and her high anxiety will flare up if things become unexpected.
Edit: I forgot to mention she has teleportation powers because I got distracted trying to be concise
Lexi and Fen
Well, Lexi does not have experience with sentient crows. Not sure if Fen talks to humans or not. If Lexi were to discover his identity, she might find it difficult to keep it a secret, but would feel like she Had To regardless, out of loyalty and being true to her word. Fen's knack for bringing out the best in others would definitely highlight Lexi's compassion and love for those around her, as well as the aforementioned loyalty. His humility and modesty would be a fun contrast to Lexi's self-confidence, which means she would try to make him embrace his accomplishments more, and maybe Fen would open up to her more once he trusted her. Their shared value of friendship and supportive nature would make them good friends I think. Who doesn't love the classic young girl + sentient animal dynamic?
Lexi and Daedryn
As someone who also values loyalty and is respectful of superiors, Lexi would probably idolize Daedryn. Lexi also has trouble recognizing faults in those she values, so I believe they would understand each other. I would like to see Daedryn maybe take Lexi under her wing, making her a force to be reckoned with as well. Lexi is an enthusiastic learner. Lexi would be willing to listen about Daedryn's god, especially why he means so much to her, though Lexi would also be very excited to talk about her friends too! There may be some talking over each other, but I think they would have a cute dynamic.
Alright y'all let's pair people up with Lexi:
Tagging @gracehosborn @mk-writes-stuff @little-peril-stories @buffythevampirelover @elsie-writes @winterandwords @theeccentricraven @theelfauthor @space-writes @jezifster @theprissythumbelina @herrmannhalsteadproduction @i-can-even-burn-salad @oh-no-another-idea @eccaiia @dyrewrites + anyone else who'd like to do this fun tag!
TSP intro
TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites + extra tag if you want to :)
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suja-janee · 2 months
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Bireena request: 1/5 (request from @/sareenademon)
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The "SIMP" was written by my friend, the rest was written by me
Bonus Anya
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sysig · 28 days
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DAAAAAAAAAAAAX <3 <3 (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Helix#DAX#ZEX#Hello I have been inconsolable ever since ZEX mentioned that he wished DAX were there so he wouldn't be the only VUX#It is a hideously addictive thought - DAX being there to support his Admiral - he certainly could use it!#Talana got pulled in from Zelnick's girlfriend's ''real'' counterpart - why not Dexter!! Hghgh#It sets my brain on fire (terribly affectionate)#I love DAX sm ;; I love ZEX sm! I love their dynamic sm ;;;;#He would've been such a comfort hhh my head is full of all these horrifically self-indulgent scenes of They ♥#Firstly of them meeting up with each other!! ZEX is very tactile haha <3 He needs the physical reassurance so bad haha ;u;#Not quite like twining arms but DAX won't recoil at least <3 Hugs good!#Can you tell that second one was a spacefiller lol#ZEX very well acquainted with crying now haha - at least it's for something positive! For once :')#Ugh imagining their little differences in approach is so fjdkslafdf - same stimuli different outcomes! I love them hgh#I like to imagine DAX just observing the showers with a distant annoyance-interest like ''What the heck is that'' lol#Very dissimilar from ZEX's Intense interest but not actually picking up any skills from the experience lol#But really it's just my secret desire for DAX to learn how to wash hair so he can corral his Admiral into taking care of his body haha#Two VUX would have a very different kind of scaffolding of learning how to get along! They'd both benefit from whatever one finds out!#Might keep ZEX just a teensy bit more on track of finding things out to report back and help DAX out hehe <3 Maybe possibly lol#Still wouldn't stop him from hitting on DAX hehehehe ♪ What's this? Someone he likes and trusts in a human form? Hmm :)#Hhhh they ;; Recreating the scene of Max coming onto Dex and then Dexter turning it around on him - not that they'd know#I'm fine this is fine I'm not crying or anything ;;;; Parallels are my favourites I can't stand this <3 <3#There's just so much to think about! And it's all so much to me!! ♥
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ghstmsk · 1 year
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Old vs new
#all of these characters needed redesigns but for various reasons#mostly being that its old art and my design senses and skill has changed since#rain may fall was picked because compared to the other characters in her story they just felt very plain#i also planned on only giving them a brown skintone and i wasnt gonna change their hair or anything#but than while i was microwaving food i randomly thought of them with darker skin and curly pink hair and i thought it was really cute#so i did it lol#salem is a design i was never happy with even when i originally drew him i was not happy with his design#particularly cause he looked very christmas-y#so i changed his palette making the green more yellowish and the red more orangeish and i think that worked out better#delta needed a redesign for the obvious reason of being art from 2019 also i felt they didnt seem vaporwave enough#and the way the umbrella cuts off in the art i did of them looksbadman#alastair and earlene also from 2019 but also i chose them specifically because i... i needed seperate images of them#its awkward to crop that old art for their character pages#bell taurus also just old art from 2019 doesnt even have arms cause i used to not always put arms on stickman drawings#elmo primarily cause i wanted to change his colors and make him look older as well as get rid of his horns and give him a skintone#his story (and salems) had some lore development since i drew him in 2019 so this better fits the lore#belat is another design i was never happy i spent a long time on his old design fiddling with it back and forth and hated it#i decided to make him a catboy and now he looks better#and esteem. my god esteem. i got lazy with their old design and i hated it. they needed the redesign the most#anyways done rambling
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ickadori · 5 months
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++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
[summary] during a playful fight between you and yuji, sukuna decides to make an appearance and air out yuji’s dirty secrets.
[cws] fem reader. dubcon. lewd use of sukuna’s tummy mouth. exhibitionism -> you’re in public but no one is around. one mention of a misogynist comment from sukuna. yuji thinks about you a lot. unedited.
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“Do you …hah, do you give up yet?” Yuji pants as he has you pinned underneath him, sweat dripping off the ends of his hair and landing on your forehead.
You’d cringe and shrink away if you weren’t so determined to win this mock fight (never mind that you were drenched in your own sweat, as well).
“Absolutely not.” You grit out, hips futilely bucking up to try and get him off you. He barely budges, even having the nerve to laugh as he watches you struggle. You can hear Nobara booing quite enthusiastically, while Megumi grumbles about being late for class and having to hear ‘Gojo’s annoying mouth’.
“Ya know you’re not gonna win, so just give up already and agree to hosting movie night in my dorm this time!”
“Never! No one wants to stare at pin-up posters all night, plus your tv is too small, and your bed always smells like Doritos, and—”
“Geez, just say you hate me, why don’t you.” He rolls his eyes, going to sit back on his haunches as he stays straddling your waist. You kiss at your teeth, trying once more to buck him up while simultaneously bringing your hands up and shoving at his stomach. “And my bed does not smell like Doritos! Does it?” He snaps his head over to look at Nobara and Megumi.
“The cool ranch ones.” Nobara says, and Megumi nods in agreement. “Aka, the nastiest flavor.” Yuji gasps dramatically.
“That’s the best flavor! How dare you…” As he bickers back and forth with Nobara, you focus a little cursed energy into your hands. “…says the girl who eats pickles with whipped cream like she’s pregnant or someth—!”
In the blink of an eye you’ve got Yuji on his back as you straddle his stomach, a triumphant grin on your face as you keep your hands on his shoulders to keep him pinned flat against the ground. “Aha!”
“That’s cheating!” Yuji frowns up at you.
“No, it isn’t! It’s called strategizing.”
“Cheating!”
“I’m going to class.” Megumi begins to walk off, hands stuffed in his pockets, and you shout after him.
“Movie night is in my dorm!”
“Hey!” Yuji interrupts.
“Bring good snacks only!” You finish, and then Nobara is the next to go, jogging to catch up with Megumi as she flashes the both of you an amused grin.
“Cheater.” Yuji grumbles once it’s just you two, and you snicker as you let go of his shoulders and sit up, not bothering to stand up just yet. “Using cursed energy against your friend… you should be ashamed.”
“You literally threw a spear at me yesterday and it almost killed me.”
“That’s different! We were training, and I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” His expression turned sheepish as he avoided your eyes, and you pursed your lips as you tapped his nose with the pad of your index finger. He wriggled it in response, and you softly laughed as you did it again.
“It’s fine, just know that you had it coming when I try to kill you in the future, mkay?” He blinks up at you.
“You’re creepy, you know that?”
“Says the boy with a third eyeball on his cheek.” This time you do cringe, watching as the red eye blinks open before settling on you.
“Wha—Sukuna!” Yuji snaps, hand moving to slap over the eye and cover it. “You should probably go now before he fully wakes up … you know how he is.” A pink hue bleeds into Yuji’s cheeks as he averts his eyes, and you feel your own face warm as you nod.
“Yeah,” you agree. Sukuna had always been insufferable from the moment you befriended Yuji, always piping up with mean, critiquing comments that bordered on being cruel. The comments had started with him bashing your fighting skills during your trainings with Yuji, quips of ‘you’re so slow - it’s a wonder you aren’t dead yet’, or ‘women on the battlefield is a bad fucking joke - hasn’t anyone ever taught you your place’, or ones that had left you teary-eyed and which you refuse to repeat.
Yeah, Sukuna was an asshole, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and you’d rather not have your day ruined before you even made it to your first class.
“I’ll see you tonight, Yuji.” You place your hands on his chest, about to use him to push yourself up to your feet, but a low, raspy voice has you stopping in your tracks.
“You’re sitting on my mouth.” Sukuna abruptly says, and you blink in confusion, your eyes flitting between Yuji’s and where you’re sitting.
“What?”
“Y-You should go now,” Yuji tries, but Sukuna is talking again and drowning him out.
“Your pussy, that hot thing between your legs, it’s on my mouth. See?” Something moves underneath you, and you flinch at the sound of fabric tearing before a yelp is leaving your mouth when something thick, damp and warm is pushing up between your legs and pressing against your clothed cunt. “You should be careful where you put that thing, y’know.”
He talks through the mouth on Yuji’s hand, and your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as Sukuna swipes his tongue against you again, his saliva wetting the fabric of your underwear.
“Sukuna, st—”
“Sit back and shut up.” Yuji falls silent in an instant, and a wave of panic washes over you when you see his eyes gloss over and his head fall back against the grass, black markings etching their way onto his face. A grin stretches across his face, and hands move to lock around your hips, fingers pushing into your flesh as he makes sure you can’t go anywhere. “That’s better.”
“Y-Yuji?” You sound breathless, and you gasp when his tongue worms its way past your panties to swipe in-between your folds. “Yuji!”
“Relax,” he rolls his eyes, “the brat is still here. Watching and listening, he’s not gonna miss a thing, don’t you worry.” You don’t know if that’s worse or better—Yuji being aware of what’s happening, being able to see your face contort each time that tongue flicks at your clit, being able to hear the noises you try and fail to subdue.
“Stop,” your voice sounds weak to your own ears, and Sukuna guffaws, tongue forcing its way up into your cunt, the action eliciting a lewd squelch as he rubs against your walls.
“Stop.” He parrots back at you, hands tightening around your hips, and you duck your head down when his tongue leaves your hole to instead focus its attention back on your clit. “I don’t know what the brat gets all worked up about—yeah, you’ve got a sweet pussy and a nice pair of tits, but you’re a real fuckin’ tease. Rolling around with a boy in that flimsy little skirt and grinding your cunt up against him. Tch.”
“I wasn—Sukuna!” You jump when his teeth graze against your folds, the thought of him possibly biting you making a shiver of fear run up your spine.
“He wants to fuck you.” He couples the reveal with a harsh suck. “Fuck this cunt that I’m tonguing down - the pervert can’t go five minutes in a room with you without thinking about it.” Your ears burn as a fresh wave of slick rushes out of you, thighs trembling where they rest around his thick waist. “He’s too worried about scaring you off to do anything about it, though… but I don’t think he has anything to worry about, does he? Look at you.”
A whimper leaves your mouth, and you quickly sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not succeeding in blocking out the slurping, tacky sounds coming from between your legs. You want to stand up, get his mouth away from you so you can think straight, because your mind is all jumbled and fuzzy and screwy, and his words, his crude words that always made your skin hot and your stomach churn, is making it churn for another reason now.
“Won’t you give him a show, hm?” You barely register his words, and you yelp when his hand makes contact with your ass, fingers kneading at the doughy flesh as he repeats his earlier words. “Take your tits out.”
“No,” you warble, your hands weakly pushing at his wrists, a poor attempt to get him to stop moving your hips back and forth, forcing your cunt to side back and forth over his flattened tongue. “Sukuna, please.”
“Take ‘em out yourself, or I’ll do it for you and leave you to walk back to your dorm with nothing on.” You hesitate, eyes wet as you nervously lick at your lips, and when he makes a move for your shirt, you quickly begin to undo the buttons, fingers clumsy as they fumble repeatedly. “Good pet.”
Your blouse falls open as you undo the last button, revealing the pink bra you have on underneath, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you pull the cups of your bras down, fully exposing yourself Sukuna’s eyes .. and Yuji’s, too oh God.
The reminder that Yuji can see everything that’s happening sends a fleet of butterflies to your stomach, and you kick yourself mentally when you find yourself jutting out your chest just a bit. Does he like them, the thoughts zips through your mind, and you don’t have time to question where the hell it came from before hands are roughly squeezing at them, calloused fingers pinching and twisting at your nipples.
“Are they as good as you imagined, kid? Cause you imagine them a lot.” Sukuna smirks, and then he’s snapping his eyes up to yours. “You wanna know what he thinks about doing to them?” His tongue lazily laps at your folds, occasionally parting them to venture down to your clenching hole and take a dip inside before repeating the process.
Sukuna doesn’t wait for your answer.
“He thinks about putting his cock between them, pushing them together so it’s nice and tight and fucking them.” He demonstrates, hands pushing your breasts together, and you can’t help but watch his hands as they grope and fondle you. “Thinks about how they’d bounce when he’s got you riding his cock.” His hands leave your breasts to instead grip your hips, and you gasp when easily lifts you, just to drop you back down onto his tongue, the appendage sliding into your cunt and reaching deep.
“Sukuna!”
He continues to lift you up and down, forcing you to ride his tongue, and his eyes stay locked on your bouncing breasts, lips still fixed in that same smirk. “You gonna come?” You feel as if his words are directed at more than just you. He moves you faster, nails biting into your skin, and your face contorts into one of bliss as you hold onto his wrists as tight as you can, eyes fluttering shut as your pussy clamps down.
He pulls you down for the final time, mouth latched onto your cunt as you come, greedy gulps and sucks sounding as he swallows down your slick, his hands moving from your hips to your back. He roughly pulls you towards his face, and a whimper-y moan forces itself out of you as his lips wrap around a stiff nipple, teeth sinking in before he’s soothing the sting away with his tongue.
You sag against him, ragged breaths disturbing tufts of pink hair, and the aggressive sucking on your breast morphs into softer, gentler sucks, the nails that had been scratching at your back replaced with gentle caresses, and the tongue and mouth that had been abusing your now puffy and sore cunt is gone.
“Yuji.” You sigh, and he hums around you before his whole body goes stiff, tongue pausing its gentle swipe against your nipple, and hands slowly moving away from you. The heat against your chest is sweltering, and you push yourself up on shaky arms, tiredly blinking down at his red face.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know he would do that or say those things! I-I don’t even know why he said all those things, I don’t think about you like that, I swear!” He goes off into a tangent, eyes darting between your face and your breasts, and you sigh again before leaning back down to push your lips against his.
The kiss is chaste and quick, and when you pull back your face is as hot as his, and you become acutely aware of your state of dress, hands fumbling to fix your bra and redo your shirt as you avert your gaze.
“What was that for?”
“You… you wouldn’t stop talking.” You defend as you fix the last button, and then you’re struggling to your feet before Yuji finally frees himself from his stupor and helps you. He pulls away from you and takes a few steps back, the both of you staring at each other in silence for a bit, and your eyes widen when you see his shirt has been ripped away around the stomach, the skin there wet from you and his happy trail glistening with your juices.
“I-”
“You-”
“Sorry, you go.” You both interrupt each other again.
“He-”
“We-”
You heave out a breath as he groans, and when he goes to say something else to wave your hands back and forth, stopping him short. “Let’s never talk about this again.”
“Oh… okay! Yeah! Okay! Lips are sealed.” He motions to lock his lips and throw away the key, and you can’t help but smile just a bit.
“Okay.” You nod, hands twisting together, and there’s another uncomfortable silence before he speaks up again.
“I can, um, walk you to class?”
“Oka—oh, your shirt.” You gesture to his ruined uniform, and he looks down as his eyebrows raise.
“How’d that happen—oh, yeah.” He looks at you, and you roll your lips into your mouth. “I guess I should change then.” You nod. “I’ll see you tonight then, right? For movie night?” Could you really sit through a movie with him after what Sukuna just did, after what he told you? An ache starts as you recall what he had revealed to you, and your eyes meet Yuji’s as you nod again.
“Yeah. Tonight.”
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omgeto · 8 months
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☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU
summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.
wc: 3k
cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI
an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.
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as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.
and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.
he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.
"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.
"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."
geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."
your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"
he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."
with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.
"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.
his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.
you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.
geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."
“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”
"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."
you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.
with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."
he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."
you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.
with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.
"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 
geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 
his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.
"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.
“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.
“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”
“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.
he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.
as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 
“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.
“what type of pain?” you retort.
“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.
“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”
geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.
a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."
with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.
he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.
as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.
"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."
geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."
“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”
“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”
you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 
“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”
“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”
“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.
“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”
“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.
“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.
“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”
“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 
he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.
geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 
he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.
“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”
“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”
“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.
“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”
before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 
“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”
you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 
“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.
“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.
with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.
geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”
“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”
“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 
with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.
your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.
“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”
“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.
“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.
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AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS
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nanivinsmoke · 1 month
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Rated-R
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saw this art from @/yunonoai on twitter and i cannot stop thinking about it. enjoy ya freaks
roommate!Choso x F!reader
summary ~ when the movie is a little bit more than you both could handle.
warnings and tags ~ porn, mentions of drinking, fingering, oral, sexual tension, nervous choso, teasing, semi-pussyjob, facial, cream pie, degradation, rough sex, squirting, etc~
“what about this one?” you asked, holding up a dvd and showing it to the raven haired male who nodded in approval at your movie selection. popping it into the dvd player, you pressed play and got up from your position on the floor to sit next to choso on the couch.
every friday night the two of you planned to do something with each other, being that it was your only free night out of the week. with you being busy with work and school, and him being busy with work; this was the only time the two of you had for each other.
thanking him for handing you your glass of wine, you relaxed onto the couch and watched the flat screen tv in front of you as it played the movie. The movie starred your favorite actor, satoru gojo. anything he was in automatically became your favorite movie of all time and if he was shirtless, trust you’d go back to the store to get three more copies.
this time it was a romantic comedy and Gojo played the part of the funny charming crush pretty well. while your eyes were glued the to screen, choso couldn’t help but to keep glancing at you from his peripheral.
you were the most beautiful girl that stepped foot on campus, he knew it and everyone sure damn well knew it too. it was no doubt that he had such a huge crush on you. the first time you spoke to him nearly made him cream his pants right there in the study hall.
from that moment on he tried so hard to avoid you, but it’s like fate kept pushing him to you. be it work or school, he was always around you. and when you asked him to be roommates with you because rent was too high, he immediately gave you his half of the rent.
even though you two got closer, he couldn’t help but be still so shy around you. he was in love with you and you knew it too. walking around in your panties and a small shirt that made nipples stand at attention, just to tease him only made it harder for him to not want to feel your soft gummy walls.
choso didn’t care about watching the movie anymore, so he pulled out his phone and turned the volume down; scrolling on instagram to look at your page. he could look at you for hours and if he’d brush up on his art skills, his whole sketch pad would be filled with you.
you glanced over at him, blushing as you caught a glimpse of the video he watched of you. he quickly double tapped it before moving onto the next one. you turned to look at him, he was shirtless—his abs chiseled and defined. and then you took in his features. the sharpness of his jawline, the way the bags underneath his eyes brung them out and his hair that’s usually pulled into two high ponies, sat low on on his shoulders. oh how you imagine tugging on it as he sucked on your pussy like it—.
you whipped your head around towards the television, hearing loud moans and skin slapping coming from it. you had no idea that there was going to be a sex scene, a long and raunchy one at that. your eyes were glued to the screen and you only moved to place your empty glass on the table next to you.
choso had to put his phone down and when he heard the lewd noises coming from the the screen, he couldn’t look away and he couldn’t look at you either. imagining that him and you were on the screen instead, had him rock hard in his pants and he had to grab one of the couch’s pillows to hide his boner from you.
neither of you said anything, not able to look away—your minds clouded with lewd images. choso slipped one of his hands underneath the pillow and into his sweatpants, stroking his boner—the stiffness and the hardness caused him to stifle a moan. precum leaked from his thick mushroom tip the more he slowly rubbed himself to the thought of you cumming around his cock.
hearing soft moans and whimpers on the side of the couch, he turned his tired eyes towards you—blushing when he saw you clutching your boob and your thighs pressing and rubbing together. he couldn’t believe the sight, you were doing that right next to him? he couldn’t stop looking as you pinched your nipple through your t-shirt, your mouth turned in a slight frown—too aroused from watching gojo fuck the woman in the movie.
and when you finally lock eyes with him and softly moan his name, his cock nearly ripped out his pants. “please, choso~,” your voice low—a soft moan following behind. his nervousness left his body the moment he leaned up and hover over you, laying back on the couch—spreading your legs for him. he took a good look at your body, your nipples standing at attention and the wet stain on your panties made it damn near impossible for him to not cum right on the fabric.
his rough hands traced your inner thigh, sending flutters to your pussy. you grabbed his hand, making him pull your panties to the side—unable to bare the overwhelming sensation. “please touch me~” you begged and he leaned down to kiss you for the first time, his lips soft against yours. his hand rubbed up and down against your folds, covering them in your slick—causing you to whimper in between the kiss.
he back away from your addictive lips, leaning down to be eye level with your dripping cunt; his tongue meeting your clit. you gasped and clutched the side of the couch, his tongue swirling and sucking on your sensitive bud. choso had been dreaming about this moment; tasting you, slurping up your fluids to satisfy his thirst. this felt all too surreal for him, but he wasn’t going to stop. not now, not ever.
the more he tongue fucked you the more you desired to cum all over his pretty face. and when he finally pushed in his middle and ring finger, those soft moans of yours became louder; drowning out from what was still playing on the television. you manicure now tangled in his deep brown locks, pushing his head further into your slick; grinding on his face—building up your orgasm.
“you taste so good” his words vibrated against your cunt, causing your back to arch off the bed. it felt so good, you were so so close and he could feel it too. his pace quickened, dipping in and out of your walls with precision. your toes curled and the grip on his hair got tighter as you came right there on his tongue. moaning his name as you ride out your orgasm, while grinding sloppily against his face.
he still pumped his fingers inside of you and didn’t detach himself from your sensitive clit either, working on another orgasm out of you. this one more intense than the last. “oh my fuck! ch-choso~” a stream of clear fluid splashed out and onto his face, catching you both by surprise. he had made you squirt, lapping up the sweet liquid that dripped down his face. you had never squirted before, none of your exes could ever pleasure you that good.
leaning down to kiss you again, you happily accepted his tongue inside your mouth—tasting yourself. gasping when you felt something hard poke you, you pulled away and looked down to see his cock standing up through his sweatpants. ‘there’s no way…’ you knew he wasn’t going to fit inside of you either, but damn were you going to try your hardest.
a smirk etched on your face as you began to grind against his clothed cock, earning a low gasp from him. his eyes planted down on your pussy teasing his cock, your slick mixing with his precum had created a huge stain on his pants. the friction earned a moan from both of your lips, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your bodies.
“can i….please..?” he asked, his tone coming off more as a beg—his dark purple eyes connecting to yours while he pushed himself more onto your pussy. you nod and quickly slid your soaked panties off, throwing them to the far end of your living room, while he did the same with his sweatpants.
‘oh my fu—so big~’ you thought, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. it was so pretty too, couldn’t stop yourself from staring at it. his tip was so pink and had so much pre-cum pooling out of it and from his tip to base he had vein running from it and he was neatly trimmed. you could feel yourself getting even more wetter the more you stared at it, you were gonna have so much fun with him.
getting closer to you again, his angled his cock at your little entrance before he paused and looked at you. “do we need cond—shit, y/n~” he moaned breathlessly as you pushed yourself down onto his girth, answering his question before he could even get it out. “i want to feel all of you cho~,” a whimper leaving your mouth as he began to fill you up.
he thumbed your clit and held your other leg up, easing the pressure as he pushed in you. when all of him was finally inside, he didn’t move and allowed you to get used to his size. the feeling of you clenching around him made him slowly move his hips, stroking in and out of your tight little cunt.
he was so so so fat—he was stretching you out with each stroke with his tip brushing over your spot, clit throbbing as a result. oh you knew you made the right decision when you asked him to be your roommate. choso moved slow, but hit all of the right spots—not wanting to hurt you. “choso, you could be rough with me….i can take it,~” he looked at you wide eyes, hesitant to do anything further until you gave your nod of approval.
all the air was sucked from your lungs when he slammed his hips into yours, his tip making out with your cervix. this is exactly what you wanted, to be fucked like a whore. he grabbed you by the hair, making you watch as he begun to tear your pussy in half, stretching you completely. “look at how good you’re fucking taking me. cunt’s so fucking wet.”
nothing played on the tv, but all that was on your mind was cumming for you roommate and have your belly full of his cum. balls slapping your cunt hard, cream coating his dick with each stroke and his hands now at your throat, fucking you so hard into the soft burgandy couch cushions.
“you love this shit, don’t you? mhm—I knew you were a slut, teasing me with those little ass panties. fuck, gonna let me breed this cunt?” his hand was still wrapped around your throat, only allowing you to nod. he strokes became faster and harder, your little cunt would be sore the next day. he let out a loud groan, his load panting your walls in long thick ropes.
he knew you were going to cum that way you were squeezing and milking his cock as he came. “hold it. don’t cum, yet” you whined as he pulled out of you, halting your orgasm. He sat back on the couch and pulled you on top of him, entering you with ease and pushing your head down as he proceeded to pound the shit out of you.
choso jackhammered you like his life depended on it, grunting in your ear while you moaned softly into his. the sounds of your slick made it harder for him to not bust inside of you again, not before he made you cum again. “daddy, please don’t stop—pound me harder!” hearing the name you called him made his dick twitch, he held your waist and slapped your ass as he pounded you harder.
you couldn’t hold it anymore. his cock became drenched when you squirted, wetting up the couch cushions underneath you. pulling you off of him in a swift motion, he got up and began jerking himself off in front of your face—spurting out thick white loads, covering your pretty face completely.
a wave of nervousness fell over him again and he quickly began apologizing for cumming too much on your face, but when he saw your finger glide on your face and dip into your mouth; he calmed down. a smirk etched into your face as you continued to lick the load off your face.
“mhm, we need to do more movie nights. especially if it’s going to end like this~”
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sunnami · 7 months
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you'd be the love of my life when i was young
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summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.
pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)
tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending
note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)
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They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.
What a load of bullshit.
You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 
There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 
Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.
Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 
And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 
Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 
(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 
Were you dying?
That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 
No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 
That was absurd. 
You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.
(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”
You huffed. 
Maybe you’d try Severus next. 
Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.
Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)
Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  
“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 
Ba-dump!
Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 
Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 
Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 
(And you were. If only you knew.)
“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 
Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”
“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 
“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it at all.
Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.
James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 
“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.
“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 
Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 
(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 
Something stirred deep in your belly. 
You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”
People could get the wrong idea.
You could get the wrong idea.
“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 
It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.
You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 
“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 
“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 
“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.
“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 
They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 
James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 
“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 
“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 
“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 
“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 
“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 
You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 
(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)
“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)
But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.
“I’m fine.”
As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 
You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 
And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 
Who were you to get in the way of that?
They would understand, you convinced yourself. 
They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 
But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 
If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 
Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 
It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 
(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 
You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 
“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 
“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.
“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”
“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 
Oh.
You were well and truly screwed. 
“Thanks,” You croaked.)
But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 
(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 
You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”
Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”
“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 
Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”
But only the wind replied.
Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 
“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 
You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 
“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 
Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 
You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”
It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 
You didn’t go to his match later that day.
It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)
Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 
You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”
“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 
Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”
You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 
“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 
“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 
“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 
“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.
Still, you missed them. 
“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”
Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”
You cried louder. 
“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”
Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”
Narcissa glared at him.
Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 
Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 
You nodded weakly. “I love them.”
“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 
“I love them!” You hiccuped.
“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 
“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 
Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 
“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 
Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 
Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 
Did you have a place with them? 
You were about to find out.
“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.
(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 
“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 
Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 
Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”
You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”
But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 
A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 
“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 
 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 
“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”
“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 
“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 
“Because you don’t feel the same.” 
The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 
You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 
“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”
“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”
“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.
James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 
Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 
(You were art that he wanted to worship.)
He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”
He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 
“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 
You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 
Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 
You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 
Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 
You nodded. “P-Please.”
Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 
He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 
Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 
You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 
“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 
Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 
She tasted like happy endings.
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note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.
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nadvs · 1 month
Text
watch and learn (part one)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use
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summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
» masterlist
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At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.
But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.
You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.
You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.
You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.
Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.
He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.
He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.
“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.
“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.
When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.
“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”
He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.
“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.
He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.
“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.
“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”
“What, you don’t like it?”
“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”
“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.
“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.
“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.
“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.
“Turn around.”
“What?” you snap.
“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.
His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.
“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.
“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.
“Yeah, actually, I might.”
A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.
“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”
“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.
“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.
“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”
“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.
“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.
“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.
The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.
She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.
“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”
“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.
“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”
Liv laughs.
“They should know when they suck,” she says.
You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.
“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”
Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.
That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.
You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.
“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.
“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”
“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.
Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.
Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.
You quickly look away.
Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.
He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.
“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.
You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.
“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.
“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”
“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”
“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.
“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”
You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.
“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”
Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.
“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”
Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.
“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”
“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”
You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.
“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”
You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.
“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”
Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.
“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”
“You can have those?” you ask.
“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”
You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?
“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”
You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.
He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?
You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.
“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.
“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”
“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”
“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.
“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.
If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.
“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“
You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.
“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.
“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.
“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”
“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”
Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.
“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”
Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.
“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.
You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.
You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.
After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.
About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.
You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.
“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”
“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.
“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.
“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.
But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.
“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.
His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.
With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.
“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.
“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.
“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.
While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.
“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”
You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.
“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”
“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”
You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.
“How sweet,” you say flatly.
Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.
He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.
You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.
“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”
“Yeah?” His brows furrow.
“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”
“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”
“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”
“So, what should I do?” he asks.
“Just… don’t rush,” you say.
Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.
A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?
Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.
“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”
“What?” you say.
“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.
You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.
“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”
“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”
He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.
When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.
You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.
“Is this too hard?” he asks.
“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”
“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”
“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”
Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.
He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.
Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.
He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.
“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.
You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.
“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.
“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.
“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”
“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.
Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.
Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.
“Now?” he asks impatiently.
“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”
“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.
He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”
“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.
“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.
“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”
“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.
“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”
You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.
“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.
He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.
Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.
“Can I finger you?” he says.
“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”
He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.
“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”
Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.
He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.
It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.
Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.
“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.
Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.
He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.
“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”
Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.
The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.
“I need to fuck you,” he says.
“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”
He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.
You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.
He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.
“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”
You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.
He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.
His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.
“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.
He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.
Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.
“How was that?” he mumbles.
“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”
“Just good?”
You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.
“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”
“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”
You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.
“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”
It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.
“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.
“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.
Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.
“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”
part two
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Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons
I promised on this LM x Reader post things would get spicy soon, so here we are, coming so far from my first post! Just the first of probably many more smutty Lucifer posts, because we all know this man fucks and we all want a piece.
Warnings: SMUT
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- This man legitimately loves everything about eating pussy. He loves performing it, he loves bragging about how well he performs it, he loves giving tips because he believes in respecting the craft, and he loves putting down anyone too entitled to provide what he sees as this most enjoyable of services for one's partner. You don't even have to ask him to go down on you, it'll be one of the first things he offers, and he'll regularly ask if you're interested in letting off a little steam. Having the ability to extend and shapeshift his tongue into having an opposable forked tip makes him capable of techniques beyond your wildest fantasies, and whether you like to receive from above or below, he's equally down to have you seated on his face or laying back to enjoy yourself.
- He's not poorly or overly endowed for a man of his size, but he's also quite literally the one who originally proved that size doesn't matter in the slightest, and he's had thousands of years to perfect those original techniques. From position to tempo, he's mastered everything he needs to hit the G-spot with impeccable accuracy, and his hands will be quite busy seeking out where you most enjoy attention as he rides you with the power and virility of an untamed stallion. All this combined results in a mind blowing time for you, every time, and he's got the stamina to answer all of your repeated requests for another round.
- Nevermind the magic he can work with his tongue or his dick, the King of Hell is also a wizard with his fingers. He's even got a carpal tunnel roller just to keep his dexterity in top shape for when his skills are needed. Finding your clit is effortless for him, and he'll show it all the love he thinks you deserve, responding eagerly to your feedback in the moment and putting his mouth to use on your neck as he does so. Whether you want him inside, outside or both at the same time, he's happy to provide, and he'll gladly push his wrists to the limit if it leaves you properly satisfied.
- If you offer to be the one servicing him, he'll happily accept, and you'll quickly find his mannerisms shift quite considerably when he's on the receiving end. He starts out confident, offering banter to match your own, but as soon as your mouth gets to work, his demeanor changes. A grin becomes an open mouthed moan, his hands tenderly take hold of you to ground himself, and witty quips turn to soft and needy sighs. The more heated things get, the more he loses himself, but it's a great way for you to gauge how well you're performing. Growls and an appearance of his horns are a sign he's really having a good time, especially considering he's always got steam to blow off. Particularly rough days will result in him losing all control by climax; fully extended wings and horns, an unfurled tail he wraps about you, hair disheveled and clinging to a fine layer of sweat, and more than a few reality bending bursts of power surging around the both of you. It's his favorite way to end the day on a good note. He'll pull his fingers from your hair as he breathlessly apologizes for the show, but the both of you know watching him go feral is part of the fun.
- The afterglow is peak cuddle time for him, and he'll be in no hurry to get dressed if there's somewhere either of you needs to be, so more than a few of his duties will end up delayed thanks to post-coital bliss. All six wings will seek you out for a fluffy embrace, and if the two of you are at all winded, the otherworldly softness of Archangel feathers might make staying awake quite impossible. Should you have some energy to spare though, he'll want to actively enjoy the snuggle. Hearing you breathe, feeling his skin against yours, and engaging in pillow talk just make him the happiest little guy. Such moments really allow him to let his guard down, and you might hear him speak with a softness and hopefulness that rarely leaves the bedroom, but he's just as interested in listening as he is in talking. Don't be too surprised if he drifts off with his head in your boobs though.
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