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#is this good? no. but do i like it? also no.
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Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽`)ノ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!
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hinamie · 3 days
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round 2 of prelim designs for @philosophiums n my lovechild of an au
first year trio
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tonycries · 2 days
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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?
Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.5k
A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.
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“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”
Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.
All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 
In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.
Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.
“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”
“She’s also my classmate.”
“Kinky. Even better.” 
No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 
It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.
Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.
And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  
“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. ��B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”
Ping!
And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 
“Let’s make one ;)”
---
“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 
Weird. 
It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.
It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 
You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.
So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  
Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.
But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 
“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”
“Yes.” 
It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”
You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 
But so irresistible just the same.
“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”
Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 
Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 
Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 
This was absolute torture. 
And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 
His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 
And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 
“...all you gotta do is touch me.”
Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.
“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 
But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”
And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 
“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.
You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”
His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”
Oh. 
Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.
With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”
And then it’s like something snapped. 
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 
Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 
No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.
You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 
Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.
“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 
And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.
You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 
“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”
God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 
“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”
You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.
“Cho, do you want me to-”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.
You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 
“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”
“Oh?”
“Are y’gonna teach me how?”
Oh. Fuck.
You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.
Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 
You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 
“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”
You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”
“Like this?”
“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”
And by God, did you mean it. 
“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 
Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-
“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”
Ah, found it.
Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 
“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”
You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.
Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-
“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”
And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 
So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-
“Faster.”
He goes faster. 
“H-harder.”
He goes harder.
Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.
“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”
You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 
And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.
He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 
“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”
Oh. Shit, what have you done?
---
That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.
A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 
So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 
But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.
In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.
Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 
For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?
Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 
“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”
“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”
Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-
Intensity setting 2.
“You’re so mean, too.”
“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”
God, he was addictive.
Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”
“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.
Intensity setting 3.
“That so?”
And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 
“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 
“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”
Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 
Intensity setting 4.
As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.
“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”
Cocky bastard.
Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-
“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”
God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.
“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”
Intensity setting 5.
That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.
Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.
“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”
Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.
“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”
Knock! Knock! Knock! 
“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”
And with that, it’s like the magic is over.
Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 
Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”
Close. You were so close.
A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.
---
“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”
You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”
Shit. Sukuna.
Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.
“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”
You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 
“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 
And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 
“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”
“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”
“Just content?”
“Just content.”
“And you like that fool?”
Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”
This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”
“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”
Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”
Oh. Is that so?
And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”
---
You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 
You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)
Cho <3: :0 
And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?
Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 
He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 
Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 
Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 
Until now, that is.
slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.
uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 
itsgenslut: idfc just fuck
“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”
You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 
“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”
“Mhm?”
And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.
Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”
It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”
And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.
The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 
It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 
“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”
“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”
uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??
roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh
“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”
Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 
“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”
A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 
He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?
“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.
You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”
“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”
Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 
“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”
You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 
“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.
Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”
Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 
“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”
Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 
Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”
“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”
Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 
Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time
22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.
DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser
Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 
“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-
“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”
The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.
You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-
 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 
And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 
slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.
DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.
Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 
Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.
Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 
So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 
Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 
“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”
“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”
You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 
“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”
Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 
Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 
Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.
Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-
“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”
His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 
Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.
“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”
And he knows he’s won. 
urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.
uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls
DaStrongest: invite me next time <3
“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”
Oh?
“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 
“Mhm?”
“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”
---
Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.
You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.
Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 
You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.
Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.
Haha
Right? 
You: *girlfriend
Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?
You: Girlfriend.
Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??
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A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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catmask · 18 hours
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i think you should sell out actually. i want laika to try and sell me NordVPN while Mars is sipping a pepsi with the logo faced towards the camera in the background
okay i can say that wont happen at least i will livestream shooting my nuts off with a handgun before i bow to the youtube sponsor overlords
no shame to people who take sponsors like bills gotta get paid but i cannot lie and be like i loooove <3 product . im to autistic for that
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dingledraw · 23 hours
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Lady Antonia J. Crowley
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marshmallowpuffcat · 2 days
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Caine knows that sharing is caring 🫶
Meme reference!
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lilithland · 3 days
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imagine you live in a really small farm town, with absolutely nothing to do, the only thing to do in such a small town is to drink and fuck
so that’s exactly what you all do, one of your friends has a giant farm, with a barn that’s pretty empty with nothing but hay
it’s saturday night and you’re halfway to wasted on some homemade moonshine
the girls at the barn all wear some variation of jean shorts so short that their booty cheeks hang out, cropped flannel shirts tied in a way where their tits are also exposed, and cowboy boots
you’ve opted to ditch your normal cowboy hat for some braided pigtails instead
“i think it’s time to play some musical chairs” someone slurs behind you
the barn erupts in a roar of cheers, everyone hooting and hollering
you chug the rest of your moonshine, ready to fuck your neighbors and friends
everyone around you starts to get ready, some of the girls start pinching their nipples and pulling their tits out more, some opting to ditch their shirts all together, you see one girl’s hands sneak inside her shorts
you hike your shorts up a bit more so your ass hangs out more, you also choose to undo the button at the top, flashing the skin just above your leaky hole
you also untie your top, the scraps of your shirts hanging down to just cover your nipples, the rest of your body is on full and clear display
while you and the other sluts get ready, the guys have taken their seats around the circle, all of them stroking themselves to get their cocks nice and long and erect
someone starts the music and the girls begin to circle the men, the round officially started
the first round is always blow jobs, the first guy to breed a bitches throat is out, but that pair can fuck however the man wants while the rest of the game plays out
the music stops and you rush forward to the man in front of you
you drop to your knees, not even bothering to look at who you’re about to give head to
the dick in front of you is luckily not the biggest in the group or the smallest
the small ones tend to finish fast and the big one would’ve been too much to start off with
you lick a long stripe up the underside of the cock in front of you, you look up and make eye contact while you swirl your tongue around the tip
it’s your sister’s boyfriend, he groans and puts his hands on the back of your head
he lets you stay in control for now, both of you not wanting to be out on the first round, but the pressure at the back of your head reminds you who really is in control
you pop his tip into your mouth before quickly removing your mouth, you spit on his cock before using both hands to spread your spit up and down his full length
you make eye contact again as you take him into your mouth once more
“hands up” he commands, a little confused you raise both hands above your heads, he uses one hand to hold both of your wrists together, his other keeping a firm hold on your head
“just your mouth, slut”
you continue to suck him off, relaxing your throat so you can get his whole length into your mouth, you keep reminding yourself to breathe through your nose
you start to gag a little as he fucks your pretty face, tears and saliva starting to overflow, before he really starts to treat you like the whore you are, you hear a loud moan to your right and the round is over
the cock from your mouth is removed, but before you can get off your knees, he squeezes your mouth open and spits into it and forces you to swallow
“good girl”
some girls start to remove their bottoms, you included, the next few rounds are all in the pussy, or the ass if the man decides to switch it up
round after round you play, managing to just barely stay in the game, riding dick isn’t your favorite but you’ve cum twice already
some men play with your clit, some grope and abuse your tits, some finger your butt while pounding into you
the more you play, the more you fuck, the hornier you get
you make it to the final round, your personal favorite
instead of the cunts circling the men, the two fuckdolls left in the game get on all fours and get blindfolded
the men circle the girls and when the music stops the first girl to squirt wins the game
by this point you’re naked, your girl cum and girl juice leaking out of you and dripping down your thighs
you get blindfolded and assume position, a bitch ready for her mounting, the music starts and you wiggle your butt in excitement
the music stops and before you have time to process anything you feel fingers in your breeding hole
you’re confused as to why you weren’t immediately stuffed with cock, you moan none the less as you get a rough finger fucking
there’s three fingers in you moving at a brutal place, a second hand snakes around your front, rubbing your clit expertly
your tongue is hanging out and you’re a drooling, moaning mess
a fourth finger is roughly added and you scream in pleasure and pain, still overstimulated from the prior rounds, you rapidly approach climax
just before you’re able to finish the fingers are ripped out from you and the delicious pressure on your clit is taken away
you scream in frustration, your orgasm ruined
before you can even start begging to be filled you feel the biggest dick you’ve ever felt in your life poking at your fuckhole
you almost cum from that alone
hands are gripping into your hips so hard they’ll leave bruises, it takes some effort and it feels like the dick being stuffed inside of you is never ending
eventually whoever is behind you bottoms out
giving you no time to adjust, they pull out all the way before slamming back in, you’re roughly fucked and split open on the monster cock behind you
you can’t do anything except simply take the fucking you’ve been given like a good bimbo slut, you feel like you’re going to be split in half, your insides are on fire, but you don’t want it to stop
one hand leaves your hips and finds purchase around your throat, the pressure of being lightly choked bringing you pure ecstasy
his other hand pinches, gropes, and slaps all over your used body
you’re readjusted and the new angle allows for the man behind you to fuck you deeper and right in a spot you didn’t even know exsisted inside of you
his roaming hand ends up on your clit again, rubbing hard and fast, a little more pressure is added to your throat, a bite on your neck sends you over the edge and you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before
as you’re forced to ride out one of the best orgasms of your life, you feel hot, thick ropes of cum fill your walls
you momentarily black out from the insanely erotic feeling, when you come to you’re still being pumped in and out of
you’re declared the winner of the night, along with the man who still has not stopped breeding your fuck hole
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fanaticalthings · 1 day
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Give me crime lord!Jason who's actually on good terms with the batfam. Not only would it actually be helpful when it comes to missions surrounding underground/illegal operations (Jason would be able to retrieve way more insider knowledge) but also I think having a supervillain family member that you're chill with is just untapped comedic potential that needs to be taken advantage of.
---
Damian gets into a petty fight with Bruce, and the next day, instead of waiting for Bruce to pick him up from school, he calls Jason, who shows up in full Red Hood regalia and just rides off with Damian.
Of course everyone at school sees that Wayne's son just got snatched by Gotham's most notorious crime lord, so ofc when Bruce gets there, sees Damian missing, and hears a series of panicked whispers about a gun slinging, criminal biker riding off with a prince of Gotham, Bruce immediately knows what's up and just sighs, already anticipating the many publication companies he's gonna have to bribe to stay silent.
---
Sometimes, they need Jason's help with intercepting certain illegal trades within the underworld of, not just Gotham, but just common areas where shady businesses are most prevalent. And when Bruce requests that Jason brings evidence of said illegal shipments to the cave, Jason will smugly respond with "I can, but it'll cost ya"
And Bruce is all exasperated like, "Jason, please, this mission's been going on for a month, I just want to get it over with."
And Jason's just looking down at the crate of smuggled materials, recognizes that it's highly sought after by many rogues (maybe it's machinery parts or rare chemical substances, etc) and ofc Jason's about to be petty as hell when responding to Bruce:
Jason: I don't think you have any idea how valuable the stuff I have is. If I sold this myself in my part of the underground, I'd make a fortune!
Bruce: Jason
Jason: Butttt, if you're not willing to pay me for this, y'know, despite being a billionaire, I guess I could just auction this off to another willing client
Bruce: Jason
Jason: I hear Lex Luthor's been cookin' up something new for Superman. I wonder if he'd be interested?
Bruce: Son, please.
Jason:
Bruce:
Jason: I'll give you a family discount.
And it's just a back and forth of this EVERYTIME. And Jason only does it when he's collaborating with Bruce. None of the other bats have to deal with Jason demanding money.
---
There was one time, during a Wayne gala where practically ALL the kids (except Jason, dude's still legally dead), had to show up. And around halfway through, the Red Hood just crashes through the skylight and then just fucking kidnaps Bruce Wayne, in front of everyone. And of course the gala has to be cut short.
Meanwhile, Bruce, in Jason's custody: I CANNOT believe you, son. WHY of all times would you do this? You are GROUNDED, I don't care if you don't live with me anymore, this is just UNACCEPTABLE-
Jason, completely ignoring him, holding up a tablet with news article headlines about this incident: Bruce, look at this shot they got of me crashing through the ceiling, I look fuckin' badass
And then when the fam (in costume) come to "save" Bruce, in a blink and you'll miss it moment, Bruce catches Cass and Jason whispering something to eachother in the corner and them fist bumping before Jason books it out of there. He can already feel a headache brewing.
And generally speaking, I feel like the batfam could be way more efficient with this arrangement. You got the regular team of bats, investigating from above, as well as being able to infiltrate socialite environments as Waynes. Then you got Jason, who can keep an eye on all the lesser exposed and lucrative activities whilst he keeps the underground businesses under his control. I feel like it would be a win win situation that would be hella interesting to see explored.
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propertyofwicked · 22 hours
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ROOKIE - LN
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧
warnings - none! just fluff (not proofread), oblivious reader and lando
feel like i could do a pt2 for this? - lemme know what you think!
masterlist the playlist
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the sun was shining brightly over the racetrack, casting on the 4 karts, lined up behind the group. max stood behind the camera, making sure everyone was in frame before running round to join Lando. at his other side stood y/n - long term friend of the two, and unofficial quadrant member.
lando flashed a wide grin at the camera.
“hey, everyone!” he announced, clapping his hands together, “welcome back to the quadrant channel. today, we have something special for you. me and max are going to teach our karting rookie here how to drive on a track like a pro,” he add, hands moving to gesture in y/n direction.
she smiled, waving awkwardly at the camera. it wasn’t her first time featuring on the channel, but she usually made small appearances when the whole team filmed. at the start, viewers had assumed she was lando’s girlfriend, noticing the way the two interacted with each other. but she wasn’t - not to say there wasn’t anything between the two of them, but they were just too stubborn to talk about it.
“you nervous?” lando asked her, smiling lightly.
“no different to driving a car right?” she replied, smiling back at him.
“not the way you drive, i guess,” he retorted, earning a light slap to his arm.
“so!” max started, clapping too as he faced the camera, “we’re starting y/n off in the lowest powered kart, and working our way up. when she’s comfortable, we’re going to have a small competition,” he added, his tone holding emphasised mystery.
it was y/n turn to speak to the camera.
“do i also need to clap when i start my sentence?” she asked max, grinning as she did. y/n could see niran burst into laughter behind the camera, all too familiar with the “who claps the most” argument.
“sorry, sorry,” she jokingly defended, holding up her hands when she caught max and lando both giving her a look filled with distaste. she turned back to the camera, “we will be seeing if the student really becomes the master, as i take on lando in a time-trialled race.”
the group moved closer to the first kart, y/n zipping up the rest of her protective clothing as they moved, balancing her helmet in the crevice of her arm.
“right, helmet on!” lando told her, though he moved to tuck loose hairs, that had fallen from her ponytail, behind her ears before grabbing the helmet from her, pushing it over her head. his hands rested on the side for a moment, wobbling her head slightly before moving to pop the visor up and look her in the eyes.
“comfortable?” he asked her, watching as she nodded, “ready?”
she hesitated for a moment, before nodding again. y/n wasn’t worried about injuring herself, no, she feared that she would do a bad job and the video wouldn’t be a good watch.
“you’ll be fine, angel, i promise,” he reassured her, his fingers moving to pull the zip of her suit up further, “if not, we blame max,” he joked. the two of them looked at the man stood on the other side of the kart, who quickly turned his head as though he hadn’t been watching the two interact, wondering when they’d figure whatever this was out. though he didn’t supposed it mattered, if this footage was left in the viewers would be quick to point it out, as they always did.
“it’s ok - if something bad happens, you’re the one that has to tell my mum,” y/n replied with a shrug, trying to grin despite her face being squashed.
“bagsy not me this time!” max called out.
“not fair! i did it last time!” lando shouted back childishly.
“in max’s defence, last time was your fault, lan,” y/n chimed in, patting his shoulder, “and all you did was leave a voicemail!”
“hiya, it’s lando - just letting you know y/n is in the hospital, but she’s fine. probably,” max mimicked, recalling the way lando left quite possibly the worst voicemail anyone had ever.
“not my finest moment, i’ll admit,” lando replied quietly before trying to manoeuvre the woman in front of him towards the kart.
y/n moved to climb into the first kart, her hand gripping tightly at lando’s arm to use as support before she sat down fully. he squatted down next to her, max following suit on the other side, before explaining the basics to her - when to brake, when to speed up, when to take a corner wide.
“last thing - the steering wheel,” he continued, making sure the mic could pick up his voice. his hands reached out to grab hers, placing them in the correct position on the wheel.
“what about the pedals?” she asked him.
“the same as normal? accelerator….brake?” he added, smiling as he pointed to each pedal as though it was obvious.
y/n nodded up at him, before grabbing the steering wheel and pretending to drive, making a ‘neeyowwwm’ noise as she did.
“she’s fine,” max laughed out, “strap her in and we’ll get started. oh, y/n don’t forget you have a the mic and the headset so we can communicate as you go round the track.”
“you’re doing great!” lando’s voice sounded through her earpiece, full of encouragement, “brake a little earlier for this next turn.”
y/n grinned, confidence growing with each lap. she was now onto the last kart, one lap left before she was supposed to race lando.
“how’s that?”
“perfect! you’re a natural,” he praised, his pride evident.
“i’m gonna kick your ass,” she threatened as she neared the finish line.
“looking forward to it,” lando remarked, this time in person as he stepped towards the side of her kart, “10 minute break before we race?”
“please,” she replied, nodding up and moving her hands to undo the straps before pushing herself up to step out from the kart. her balance faltered slightly as she did, though lando’s arms had shot out, his hands gripping her waist to steady her as she stepped out from the kart. even when y/n was fine to walk alone, lando’s hands never left, his hand firmly positioned on her lower back as they walked towards max.
“how was that,” max asked her, his eyes darting from lando to the woman who was struggling to pull her helmet off.
“really good,” she replied with an enthusiastic nod once lando had helped to pull the helmet from her head, “not sure on that last corner but we’ll see how it goes.”
“seemed alright on that last lap,” max reassured her, though he couldn’t help but notice the way lando looked at her face, smiling fondly as she explained how she might approach the race.
“right, it is finally time!” max called out, facing the camera as y/n took a seat in the kart behind him, “the moment we have all been waiting for. lando norris, formula one racer versus karting rookie y/n.”
“karting rooki- max i have so many better attributes to describe me?” y/n called out jokingly.
“sorry - lando norris, formula one racer versus ‘nine points on her license’ y/n!” he joked, “is that better?”
“NINE? i do not have nine points on my license?” she retorted, “it’s like 3?”
“it’s nine,” lando interrupted with a snort as he crouched down next to her to check her straps were tight enough, “two counts of speeding, and that one time you ran a red light - am i wrong?” he added with a grin.
y/n shook her head at him, though her silence confirmed his claim. the three moved on quickly, y/n finding herself breathing in sharply as lando pulled on the straps too hard, tightening them around her ribs.
“sorry,” he mumbled, loosening them slightly, “breathe out f’me,” he added, checking that she had room, before muttering a quick perfect as she did.
anyone who believed lando would go easy on y/n was a fool. she’d managed a good few overtakes, took corners well and maintained her speed, but as they approached the last lap lando seemed to slip further away. even with her foot to the floor, her kart was slowing more and more until the engine fully gave up, spluttering a few times before dying.
“well this is embarrassing,” she announced, looking into the gopro attached to the kart as she did.
“hold still for a moment, y/n,” max said through her headset, “need lando to stop before you can get out.”
so y/n sat, waiting for lando to stop so that she could climb out from the kart and do her walk of shame back to base. but she didn’t have to wait long before she saw lando jogging towards her.
“you good?” he asked her on approach, his helmet long abandoned with his kart.
“the engine just died on me,” she told him, annoyed.
“i told max i thought i could hear it struggling when i passed you,” he told her, holding out his hand for her to climb out, “however, can’t have you not finish your first ever karting race.”
“what?”
“climb on,” lando told her, crouching slightly and tapping his back for her to climb on.
y/n didn’t argue, she knew she’d lose. so she stood behind him, bouncing slightly before jumping onto his back, his hands moving to grab her legs and her arms wrapping around his neck loosely. he started running towards the finish line, y/n clinging tightly onto him whilst mimicking car noises, lando laughing loudly as she did.
“you two look like you’ve been doing this for years,” max called out, breathing through his laughter at the sight in front of him.
“we have,” they said in unison as they approached him. max knew this - he himself had fallen victim to giving y/n a piggyback a fair few times over the years - however it didn’t make the situation less funny to him.
lando placed y/n down with a soft thud, before realising something, his eyes widening.
“wait who won?”
“what do you mean ‘who won’?” she asked confused, “my engine died, lando.”
“i didn’t cross the line,” he whined, “i went to get you before i crossed it.”
“funny you should ask,” max interrupted, using the opportunity to turn to the camera set up, “we ran the VAR and…”
“are you waiting for a drumroll or…?” lando asked impatiently.
“don’t be mean,” y/n told him, slapping his arm lightly, “god forbid you not be so competitive for once.”
“so!” max started again, knowing their bickering could last hours if he didn’t interrupt, “we ran the VAR and you’ll be glad to know that….y/n - your foot was the first to cross the line!”
“yes!” she cheered, pumping her fist dramatically.
“how is that right? i was carrying her?” lando whined again.
“her foot was in front of you mate,” max laughed, “should’ve tucked it behind you if you wanted to win so bad,” he added, shrugging.
“that is the last time i do anything nice for you,” lando seethed jokingly, turning to face y/n before ruffling his hand through her hair to mess it up.
she dodged his hand quickly, head jerking sideways as she shouted at him.
“you’re such a sore loser.”
“i am not.”
“rematch?”
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Yall how funny would it be if Jeremy Knox smokes guilt cigarettes every now and then??
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laligraves · 3 days
Text
morning run
TLOU AU - joel miller x fem!reader
[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie
“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters. 
You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block. 
“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?” 
“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion. 
“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.” 
She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.” 
You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood. 
“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!” 
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.” 
She throws a sponge at your head. 
“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge. 
“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!” 
You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan. 
You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood. 
She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations. 
So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you. 
You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you. 
Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway. 
“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?” 
He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away. 
You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.   
“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.” 
“I agree, you can run anytime you want–” 
“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”
He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.  
“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.” 
“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.” 
Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?” 
“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–” 
“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.” 
“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”
Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth. 
“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.” 
With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.  
You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband. 
Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller . 
You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens. 
“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself. 
“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right. 
You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact. 
“Good morning,” you whisper. 
He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin. 
“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair. 
You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it. 
“How did you know–” 
“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk. 
His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope. 
“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?” 
He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate. 
“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.” 
His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts. 
“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples. 
“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?” 
His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face. 
As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face. 
“How dare you–”  
“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.” 
Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met. 
“Let me go or I’ll scream–”
“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?” 
Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape. 
Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.
He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him. 
“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds. 
She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide. 
“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”  
Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?  
“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust. 
You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape. 
“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.” 
Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.  
He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts. 
“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?” 
“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.” 
Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan. 
Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her. 
“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?” 
Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind. 
“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.” 
You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt. 
“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.” 
A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock. 
“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.” 
You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance. 
“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out. 
“That the community is already perfect, Susan.” 
His voice sounds annoyed at this point. 
“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–” 
Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit. 
“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.” 
Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size. 
“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.” 
You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs. 
Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure. 
“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” 
“ Y–yes ,” you whisper. 
“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.” 
Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge. 
“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”
You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment. 
You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart. 
Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate. 
“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers. 
“ Please, Joel,” you whine. 
He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up. 
You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.
Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.
He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.
Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.
"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.
You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.
You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.
"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.
"What? No, why?"
"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch." 
Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from. 
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luveline · 23 hours
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oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)
adopted fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for panic attacks
You should call your brother. 
You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake. 
You read back his last message. 
I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you
You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him. 
You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right? 
He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?” 
“No. Are you busy?” 
“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?” 
“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.” 
“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?” 
“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.” 
“Are you calmed down?” 
“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.” 
“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”
“You can’t tell him.” 
“What?” 
“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?” 
“You don’t have to come.” 
“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.” 
You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind. 
Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual. 
You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.
You don’t have it in you to complain. 
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.” 
 Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?” 
“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.” 
“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.” 
Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?” 
Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you. 
Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.
“Thanks for coming.” 
“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.” 
“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.
“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.” 
You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally. 
The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.” 
You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur. 
“I think my boss will forgive me.” 
You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly. 
“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly. 
“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.” 
“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.” 
He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.” 
You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too. 
“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.
He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache. 
Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens. 
You shuffle backward nonchalantly. 
Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday. 
“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?” 
“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.” 
“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you. 
You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.” 
“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises. 
Spencer squeezes your hand. 
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hinamie · 2 days
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atla!au designs part 3 !! one of these things is uh. not like the others
first year trio gojo/choso/nanami
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ffsg0jo · 2 days
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"She asked for no pickles" with the JJK men if you would like?
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characters (all written separately): nanami x reader ; gojo x reader ; choso x reader
warnings: fem!reader , mentions of food , pickles , swearing , gojo being weird , light angst (choso)
w/c: 1.5k (roughly 500-600 words each character)
a/n: this was really fun to write, so thank you sm for sending a request in !! i kinda deviated from the brief a little, so i hope you don't mind too much :)) i hope you all enjoy it and let me know what you think !! ive also decided to split it into 2 parts since it was getting really long.
part 1 (nanami ; gojo ; choso) ; part 2 (toji ; geto ; sukuna)
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𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈. 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ::
"sweetheart what's wrong? why aren't you eating?"
your husband’s concerned voice pulled you out of your reverie. you sighed, weighing up your options, trying to decide whether it was worth telling kento your problem or not.
it was supposed to be a cute day out for you both, first going to an art museum which had a special exhibition you were both dying to see. then deciding to visit a nearby park with freshly baked bread, feeding your beloved husband a bite, and then the ducks.
now you were both currently sitting at a restaurant, and the sight before your eyes was enough to ruin your mood.
your husband reaches out and holds your hand from across the table, eyebrows furrowing further as he sees the despair on your face. you refuse to look at him, and kento starts to worry even more.
"my sweet girl, please tell me what's wrong," he urges, lightly squeezing your hand.
you sigh once more, and he follows where your eyes are pointedly staring the burger on your plate. immediately, he sees pickles sticking out from the edges, cemented into the melted cheese, and everything clicks.
"i asked for no pickles ken, but i don't want to be rude and send it back."
kento rubs your hand with his fingers and asks if you want him to take pickles off for you.
"i'll still be able to taste them though because i know they were there," you slightly pouted.
you looked so upset, and your husband hated that. you were really looking forward to trying this restaurant's burger due to all the good reviews you've heard. and as a fellow foodie, he can empathise and share your massive disappointment.
that won't do, kento thinks. his dear heart asked for no pickles, so she'll get a burger with no pickles.
kento spots a waiter nearby and makes eye contact, politely smiling and lifting his hand up. the waiter comes over immediately and asks if everything's okay.
"my beautiful wife here asked for no pickles on her burger, but there seems to be pickles," he looks at you and sees the slight embarrassment on your face and reassuringly rubs your hand. "would it be possible to send this one back and get one without pickles, please?"
you looked up at the waiter in hope with a bashful look on your face.
"absolutely sir," the waiter smiles at your husband and moves to take away the plate from in front of you. he turns to you and dips his head. "i apologise for any inconvenience caused, ma'am. i'll get that to you as soon as possible, alongside a desert of your choice, on the house."
you thank the waiter profusely, and once he's gone, you turn to your husband with the biggest smile on your face. you bring your joined hands up to lips and press kisses on the back of his hand.
"i love you so much kento, thank you!"
your husband smiles with a light blush adorning his cheeks. he leans over the table and presses his lips softly against yours.
"anything for you my sweetheart, i love you too." he whispers softly, with his lips still pressed against yours.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ::
“satoru, my darling, my honeybun sweetie pie, did you put pickles in my fucking pastry?”
your boyfriend, who is sitting next to you, freezes at your tone, with his thumb pressed onto his lips to lick away cream from his cake that had gotten onto it. he turns to you with an incredulous look on his face, hand slowly falling back down to his lap. everything’s silent for a moment as he just blinks at you.
“pickles? did you say pickles babe?”
seeing the visible confusion on satoru’s face, you move the plate in your hands closer to him and pout.
“there’s pickles in my pastry.”
he looks down, and you’re right. for some reason, alongside the cream and the strawberries, there were two small slices of pickles half hidden underneath the strawberries. satoru’s confusion doubles, but then he remembers your accusation and how you looked like you were contemplating murder.
“that wasn’t me babe, i promise, scout’s honour!”
“don’t disrespect scouts toru,” you whine. “i was really looking forward to it you know.” you place the plate down on the tea table in front of you and huff, falling back and sinking into the sofa.
the only thing that got you through the long, hard day was the prospect of feasting on the pastry you bought and cuddling up to your lover. and now it was all ruined. what kind of sicko jokes around and puts pickles on perfectly delicious pastries, actively working to ruin people’s days.
seeing your lover’s shock, you’re inclined to believe him. out of everyone, satoru knew not to mess with people’s food, especially sweet treats. but you could’ve sworn putting it in the fridge with no pickles on it. so what happened?
satoru looks at you all upset, and he loses his appetite. don’t get him wrong, he would die for cake. but seeing you so distraught, he could not, in good conscience, enjoy his slice without you. he looks down at the slice of cake in his hand and decides to make a compromise.
“here, my love,” he says with a sweet smile on his face, handing you his plate. “you can have my slice.”
you look up at him, with your mouth slightly open in disbelief. no way, satoru just offered his cake. you never thought you’d live to see the day. looking at his plate, it does look delicious and pickle-less, but you shake your head. he deserves his sweet treat.
“s’fine baby, thank you though.”
“no, honestly, i don’t mind something savoury with my sweets,” he pushes the plate into your hands and grabs the pastry from the table. satoru makes a show of picking a pickle slice off the pastry and licking the cream off. “see it’s delicious,” he smiles brightly, seemingly enjoying it?
“i love you, but you’re a freak,” you grimace burrowing yourself into satoru’s side.
he only chuckles in response, munching on the pickle. he absolutely hates it. he’s a brilliant actor, but you can see it in his eyes, yet he still swallows it. you lift your hand up to his cheek, holding it gently and pressing kisses to every single bit of skin you can reach. your lover only gives you a cheesy smile in return, popping another cream covered pickle into his mouth.
“you don’t have to eat that love, we can just share your cake.”
satoru shakes his head, adamantly refusing. instead choosing to take a massive bite of your pastry covered in pickle juices. it’s disgusting, and he’ll probably cry in the shower before bed at the horrifying taste, but he could handle a couple of pickles if it ensured your happiness.
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𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ::
“baby it’s fine, i promise”
“no it’s not choso, first they made fun of you, and then they messed up your order on purpose,” you spluttered in pure disbelief. “it’s disrespectful and rude, i’m not letting them get away with it!”
how dare they, you thought as you sped back to the fast-food chain choso had gotten food for you both from. your husband is the sweetest and most respectful soul to have ever graced this earth. how dare they make fun of his facial marks and hair. you wanted to hug and kiss him all over, but first, you had some strong words for the workers at the food shop.  
to say you were fuming was the absolute least of it. you know for a fact that choso probably just awkwardly stood there, hearing their remarks and silently accepted his order whilst they laughed at his buns. picturing it only made you angrier, fists balling and blood rushing through your ears.
“baby, please calm down,” your husband called, hot on your heels. you were only a couple of shops away, and he absolutely did not want to make a scene. he took hold of your arm and gently pulled you towards him, grabbing your other hand in his too.
“my love, it’s okay, just let it go,” he urged. you looked at his face and you saw the slight shine in his eyes, and you were about to turn to straight back around. choso only tightens his hold on you and his hand moves up to hold your face.
“they’re just miserable people, not worth wasting your time on them baby.”
“you would do the same for me cho, i’m not hearing it!”
“i absolutely would, but the workers were young, and i don’t want you getting in trouble for fighting a bunch of kids,” he stressed. “let’s just go home and cuddle, and order takeout or something. please.”
the discomfort of going back inside the shop was written all over his face, and you really didn’t want to make choso’s day harder or worse than it already was. your husband deserved the world, and it made your heart break, knowing that there were people being mean to him. sighing, you lean up and press a soft kiss to the bridge of choso’s nose, right where his mark is.
“okay,” you relent. “let’s go home.”
choso kisses your hand and smiles at you, relief written all over his face.
“you didn’t deserve that choso, i’m really sorry they said all those horrible things to you.”
“’s fine,” he says dismissing it. “my wonderful wife did my hair and tells me how gorgeous she thinks i am every minute of the day. some silly teenager’s words won’t affect me.”
it was easy to see the words had affected him more than he let on, but for now, you decided to let it go. tomorrow you’d talk to him and offer reassurance properly and make his day extra special, but for now you’d let it go, seeing how clearly he wanted to leave it behind.
holding onto his hand, you both turned around and started making your way back home, discussing what you guys should order, already feeling lighter.
“oh babe, let’s invite yuuji over, we could have a family dinner,” you suggested, knowing if there was one thing that would cheer him up, it would be his brother. your husband’s face immediately lights up and he beams at you, nodding his head enthusiastically and agreeing.
it’s sorted then, cuddles with you, then takeout as a family, and then some more cuddles with you both whilst watching a movie.
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extra note : geto put pickles on your pastry thinking it was gojo's when he came over the day before. gojo had been annoying him all week, so he decided to hit him where it hurt. when he found out it was yours, he felt terrible and brought extra pastries for you when he next came round.
© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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spicy-apple-pie · 1 day
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Listen. I know canonically Damian acts out against his father for very valid reasons, but what if Damian was like… very submissive towards Bruce (for lack of a better term)
Like his mother has been hyping him up for his whole life, he thinks the world of his father. And because he’s only known greatness in terms of the LoA. Strict hierarchies, professionalism, no chit chat etc.
So Damian gets there and obeys Bruce with no questions asked. He won’t talk unless spoken to and stands at attention when addressed. Also the problem of him thinking that Tim and Alfred fall under him and should behave the same way. And they both recognize how tragic it is because he’s just holding them to his standard, if that makes sense? Like Damian is expecting Bruce to treat him the way he treats them kinda thing so they’re like “>:(“ but also “:(“
And then Bruce is like “okay, I’m going to take a whole day off and hang out with Damian to show him that we’re chill.” But Damian takes this as “ah yes, the test to determine whether I’m worthy to stay.”
And they spend the day at the park and Bruce is trying the whole day to pry Damian open like “what kind of ice cream do you want?” Or “what would you like to do?” And Damian replies with “what ever you see fit, Father.”
Until Damian breaks down because he doesn’t know the right answers. And he sees it in Bruce’s face when he answers that he’s getting it wrong somehow, but he doesn’t know. And then Father is going to send him back, and Mother will be disappointed.
And Bruce holds him, tells him to take deep breaths, and kisses his head. And Damian cries harder because it reminds him of Mother and desperately wants his Mother right now.
Idk, I just love hurt/comfort and good dad Bruce.
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I attempted to write a drabble and... failed. So here's a double drabble instead! Also posted on ao3. Steddie for your soul:
“How much do you like Eddie?”
Robin was disappointed. She had brought Steve to meet her new friend Eddie because she thought they'd really hit it off. Eddie was, like, Steve's polar opposite, but that was supposed to be a good thing, right?
It had been going well, she'd thought. Eddie was his usual manic self but Steve hadn't sneered; he had seemed really interested in what Eddie was saying. Robin had watched Steve's eyes track the movements of Eddie's ring-covered fingers and thought, yeah, this'll work.
Then Steve had pulled her aside and whispered his question: “How much do you like Eddie?”
Robin frowned. “Like, a normal amount? He's a good guy. What's your damage?”
Steve tugged her closer, turning their bodies away from the table where Eddie still sat. “I’m about ten seconds away from asking him on a date, okay, because wow. But you know my track record with relationships, it could end badly and you can't ever see him again if he breaks my heart,” Steve took a deep breath, “so I'm asking you: how much do you like Eddie?”
Robin smiled slowly. “Not as much as you do, apparently.”
Damn, she was good at this.
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