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boop-le-snoot · 9 months

Text

masterlist

dirt

sundress+no panties+daryl = uh oh...

title and soundtrack is dirt by depeche mode. you need to take depeche mode away from me tbh, I'm hung up on the exciter album writing smut when I should be making updates to my negan and ironstrange fics.

I also headcanon daryl having huge fat swinging balls for some reason and I'm so sorry you had to read that I turn into an animal when I write daryl

cw: 18+, word count 3k. a little rough (butt slaps, some bites, he calls you a "bitch in heat" and a "slut" a couple of times - lovingly of course), a little pervy (you're fucking outside and daryl eats his own come out of your pussy+breeding kink if you squint really hard).

He reaches in, fingers curling around the bunched up, patterned cotton of the dress and his mind blanks. The low growling, he realises, is coming from his own mouth.

"The fuck, girl?"

You look at Daryl over your shoulder, where the bare skin has erupted in goosebumps from his hot, humid breath. "What?"

You sound annoyed, but there's a distinctive teasing undertone to it. Your eyes are narrowed a little too much. The corners of your cherry-tinted lips are tilted upwards.

"You ripped all my damn underwear, Daryl! What did you expect?" You grouch, breaking the second of still silence. "Can't just take a stroll to Victoria's Secret anymore, can I?" Seeing his face darken even more, you hastily add, "I got a couple I wear on runs."

You sound so cute when you're annoyed, Daryl thinks, but it's overshadowed by his blood rushing in his ears, hot and fast. His cock is still pulsing in his jeans and it demands to be released.

"So you jus' walkin' 'round with allat juicy ass hangin' out fo' all da men to sniff?" Daryl feels an urge to clarify to you, what is exactly you're doing, that he's upset with. "Cuz that's exactly what all them dawgs are fuckin' doin'!" He's jealous, of course he is, but most importantly, he doesn't trust any of the men as far as he can see them.

Hell, he isn't completely sure even Rick would pass on the opportunity to get an eyeful of your soft thighs, your scrumptious ass, or your fat cunt, for that matter.

Lord knows they're the juiciest fucking things he has seen in his whole entire miserable life. Just thinking about it makes his rock hard cock twitch and release a sad dribble of pre-cum in his pants.

"Exactly, your girl!" You declare, eyeroll audible in your voice. "Nobody's seein' me without my panties 'cept you."

Daryl's only response is to hitch up the sundress higher, the movement so quick, the fabric gives a sad crack as the seams threaten to burst. Your ass is still bare, still round and smooth as ever, nobody should have this sort of curves while they're in the middle of a damn apocalypse, he thinks, and sinks to his knees and sinks his teeth into the supple skin of your right ass cheek.

You yelp at the sharp pain. You squirm, your attempt at getting away, of course, futile: your hips and waist are firmly in his grasp. Rough fingertips dig into you, just shy of painful.

"There," Daryl inches back a bit, admiring the indentations left behind by his teeth. For someone who forgets to take care of himself most days, his teeth are surprisingly straight and white and strong. And he lets you feel it. "Now if any asshole decides to go nosin' where he shouldn't, there'll be a warnin'." Daryl sounds proud of himself, which is all and all - fair.

Once the initial shock subsides, your feel your cunt lips stick together even more as your arousal oozes out of them- and down your thighs, now that there isn't any fabric to contain it all. In all honesty, you did enjoy the occasional breeze that would waft up your skirt, even if it didn't offer much respite from the sweltering summer heat.

And Daryl is definitely not helping matters, either. He's like a damn furnace, pressed up against the back of your legs, all solid bulk, breathing hot and moist into your skin, every exhale going around the curve of your ass and disappearing between your legs. He knows it the moment that you shift in place, subtly trying to widen your stance even though there is nothing more you want than to rub your thighs together to provide relief to your swollen lips and throbbing clit.

He raises a hand, wide and open-palmed, and smacks your ass. "You're such a fuckin' slut," he grouses. And your first instinct is to gasp at the offense; you hide your grin in a lip bite. Yes, yes you are. And you know it. And he knows it. Your ass cheek jiggles as he gives it another well-aimed slap. "Lookit you," Daryl presses the issue, "drippin' wet." To hammer his point home, he takes a thick, fat finger and runs it along the seam of your cunt.

It glides easily. You shudder, biting back a moan. Your legs shake just a little, but Daryl notices - he always does - and his finger dips inside your lips. The rough, calloused fingertip swipes through your labia, stopping just short of your clit. You whine and he withdraws.

His numerous knives and tools clatter as he abruptly gets up.

"You wanna be fucked, huh?" Voice quiet, Daryl's front presses to your back with a malicious intent. The prominent bulge of his erection is pushing into your back. "Is that why you goin' round naked? So anybody coulda bend you over, anytime, huh?" He reaches around you, hand blindly nosing for your face. When he finds it, he wastes no time in prying your mouth open, sticking the damp finger inside.

Your own cunt, salty and tangy, blossoms on your tongue. The gesture makes you moan around his finger and him- he sticks another one in, keeping you quiet.

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl orders. The rasp in his voice makes your knees buck and your cunt weep and he knows it. His free hand moves at your back, and with the accompanying noises, you come to realise that he's opening his pants and hurrying to free his dick.

When the damp, silky tip touches the bare skin of your ass, your body reacts before you do. Your mouth wraps tighter around his fingers. Spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth and onto his wrist. Your back arches into his body. He is just as scalding as the sun beaming down from the sky.

Daryl pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, holding them there until you gag. The motion makes your whole form spasm and shiver; his cock gives a responding jump of its own.

"Lookit you," he rasps directly into your ear, hot breath tickling the shell of it. "Like a fuckin' bitch in heat," he grabs the meat of your ass cheek, spreading you one-handed. His cockhead noses around the cleft, leaving a sticky trail behind itself. It dips near your cunt, adding your juices to the mix. "You want it so bad."

You do. You really, really do. But you know Daryl is mean. You love it when he's mean to you. When he is proud of the strength of his bulk, when his eyebrows draw tightly over his brilliant blue eyes and nothing, absolutely nothing can escape his predatory stare. You crane your neck, trying to look back at him, to plead with your eyes.

He gets it, because he always does. Daryl's fingers quickly leave your mouth, dragging a wet trail of spit down to your neck where his fingers wrap around it in a secure hold.

"You want it so bad, then fuckin' beg," he says the words and you immediately, greedily descend into the permitted depravity.

"Please, Daryl," your voice sounds hoarse, interrupted by hiccups as you struggle to swallow the saliva that had pooled in your mouth and around his fingers, "please, fuck me. I'll be good. Please."

You feel him fist his cock as it twitches; you can't help it, really, as you arch your back even more and push your ass against his rough hand. Immediately, he withdraws it, just to slap you again.

"You're a bitch in heat," he muses, but you can hear the beginnings of impatience in his voice. "Say it!"

He's never made you do that before. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, you gasp, part shock part offense, until you feel a drop of fluid roll out over the outer lip of your cunt and fall and disappear somewhere below you. Then it's just lust. The kind that tints the whole world red and narrows your field of vision.

"Fuckin' say it!" Daryl demands, patience thin.

You wouldn't put it past him to just shove himself in at this point. "I'm... I'm a bi- I'm a bitch in heat," you hiccup, feeling your face flood with heat. "I'm a bitch in heat, please fuck me!"

You feel his lips tilt up just the tiniest bit against your ear before he reaches back for his cock and aims it at your cunt in a single, precise thrust. You gasp and mewl as he suddenly stops halfway through. Your cunt ripples and flexes and squeezes. Daryl drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting.

"So fuckin' tight," he murmurs, mostly to himself. You're not - he knows better, he makes sure you're not before he even thinks about sticking it in - but you are. All that blood that went straight to your cunt the moment his breath caught up in his throat at the sight of your bare pussy - It's making your cunt swell all around him.

A pathetic mewl leaves your lips, your satisfaction incomplete. You wiggle, you arch, but Daryl is as unyielding as ever.

"You take what I give you," he growls, teeth bared like an animal against your ear. Nonetheless, you feel the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. Stars burst in your eyes. You are so full, practically bursting at the seam of your cunt where his fat balls rest against the stretched hole.

Slowly, Daryl withdraws, both of you hissing at the drag of his fat cock in your engorged cunt. You may be a bitch in heat but he's every bit the stud that is just as fervent and feral to breed you. His teeth creak as he pulls back completely, leaving just his weeping tip inside of you.

And then he slams home. And again. And again. And again.

With every powerful thrust of his hips, you gasp. Quiet, pleading moans is the limit of your vocal capacity. Mouth dry, the air gets trapped in the back of your throat as your lungs demand their due.

Daryl is unrelenting. His blunt fingernails drag over the skin of your throat, leaving marks in their wake, as he makes way to your mouth.

"This is what you wanted, slut?" He pants into your hair. "Be quiet. Be really fucking quiet unless you want everybody to see what kinda..." He inhales sharply, feeling your walls flutter at the flith dripping from his tongue.

And it shouldn't make you feel the way you feel. Those fucking words just add more accelerant to the fire in the pit of your stomach, spreading it from there and up, over your face. It flames. Your hand helplessly clutches the nearest surface as you attempt to brace yourself against his thrusts and the notion that anyone could see you.

Bent over something or another, dress hiked up to your waist and Daryl's hips pistoning in and out of you at a rapid pace. He didn't bother undressing save for letting his pants hang freely just below his cock and balls. Heavy, fat balls, littered with coarse dark hair, that slap against your cunt and your clit with a resounding smack every time he drives his cock inside of your cunt. The squelching noise it makes is obscene.

Another whine, and your pussy squeezes him once again, blind and hungry for release. You can feel it building steadily, deep within your abdomen.

"Fuck yeah," Daryl growls, "you fuckin' like this, don't 'cha?" He's gotten the hang of it: the dirty talk, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He's a mean bastard with nothing close to dignity or self-respect. If anyone saw him, rutting into you, little more than two animals, he wouldn't, couldn't stop.

Daryl would stare them down up until his cock swelled and busted, depositing his seed inside your womb.

Your knees feel weak. It's getting harder and harder to keep up with him; seems like every pathetic whimper that leaves your lips only makes him meaner, stronger somehow. The grip of his hand on your hip is bruising. Daryl effectively wears you on his cock, submerging himself into the warm depths of your pulsing cunt over and over.

"Da-Daryl..." You gasp, you moan and you plead.

He doesn't stop. He merely handles you into a different angle, the one that hits that special spot inside of you with every powerful thrust. He is mean, but he is also fair.

"Gonna cream my cock?" He barely makes sense to himself, the words that his dry mouth garbles seem to have a mind of their own. "Gonna be good, girl? C'mon."

"Ah," you want to say yes, you want to affirm, but all that comes out of your mouth are garbled, unintelligible noises of pleasure. But Daryl sees it. It's in the way your arch becomes near-painful, body overtaking your mind. Even the slightest bit of pain blends into hot-blinding pleasure. You don't know where what ends and begins.

It begins somewhere behind your cunt. The contractions start slow and aching, and every punch of his cock to your guts intensifies the feeling tenfold, until every last inch of your cunt is squeezing around him in that same arduous, suckling rhythm. It's like your pussy is nursing at his cock, attempting to suck his life out of him and deposit it into you.

The pleasure is like a wall of fire and water. Your chest blooms with it, but your extremities swarm with pinpricks. Mouth parted in a silent scream, you sway forward, managing to catch yourself on your elbows at the last moment.

The man behind you doesn't care. He's way past caring, having had started chasing his release the moment your cunt enveloped his cock in a vice grip. The meat of it is sensitive and he spends the few inches to the finish line gracelessly mashing it inside of you, accompanied by the sound of wet flesh meeting even wetter, sloppier flesh.

"Take it, fuckin' take it," you hear him gasp through your stupor before that familiar, warm rush floods your cunt. His cock twitches, once, twice, three times, each forceful throb followed up by more and more seed being pumped into the depths of you.

Against your back, Daryl sags and pants out his excerption. Like a dog. His wet nose leaves sweat stains on your back where he nuzzles into you.

Your knees shake as you struggle to hold up his weight, and then your legs completely turn to mush when droplets of his cum escape your cunt as his spent cock slips out. You know you should be worried about stains in unsightly places but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

Daryl notices this, of course. His bulk slides off you; you hear him quickly shove himself back into his pants before his ass hits the ground with a loud thud. Next to you, of course, his stubbly, prickly cheek rubbing over the skin of your leg. He places a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh, and then another.

You know the drill. It's hard for him to find words, sometimes, after a scene like that. It's the intensity of it, the forceful ejection of him out of his head where he spends most of the time, that renders him speechless. Daryl is forced to feel - good things. It's not something that he is used to.

Your skirt is still around your waist and the hot sun is shooting lasers directly at your ass and pussy. You've managed to get your bearings enough to feel at least a little self-conscious, a little exposed. Your combined fluid still drip from you and for a split second, you think about pulling up your panties to try and at least somewhat contain the mess.

Right, you sigh to yourself. It makes your exhausted body twitch and sag even more.

Daryl gently pushes away your hand that was attempting to pull the dress over your ass. You freeze; he smiles against your skin, a little closed-lipped grin that makes something warm and fuzzy make a nest inside your chest. That quickly turns into a startled gasp as his fingers glide through the mess of your cunt.

You're spent. Exhausted. So sensitive, his rough skin practically hurts on your hole and clit.

But Daryl gets it. You get him, and he - he gets you. His hot breath fans over your pubic hair and it's all the warning you get before he opens his mouth wide, flattens his tongue and licks. You've made a big mess and there is a lot to take care of, but if there's anything about Daryl that you know, is that he's thorough at what he does.

In no time, he's got his tongue shoved down your cunt as far as it would go, curling against your walls, lapping up his and your cum like your pussy is an all-you-can-eat-buffet and what's inside of it is sugar and spice and everything nice.

But it's not enough. It's not anywhere near your clit, or any other place that could make you produce more of the cream he's feasting on. Idly, you think about who's the real bitch in heat here, but push out your hips to meet his face nonetheless. You can be mean too. If you want to.

I don't know what to say for myself

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #female reader #twd smut #not tagging this with norman reedus bc i have posted my face before and I'm not that bold #or am I?

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tiyoin · 3 months

Text

I ate your heart

warnings: graphic description of: violence, SA, gore, mentions of cannibalism, murder, reader almost gets graped, alcoholism*, manipulation, ‘victim blaming,’ unhealthy coping mechanisms, dark content - alastor and readers relationship is up for interpretation

dawg imagine you get killed by yan human alastor.🫣

like you’re thinking that you’ll finally be safe in the afterlife, hoping that you got a spot in heaven. (yet apparently, premarital sex would automatically remove your spot in line for a chance at salvation)

blasphemy does those kinda things🤷🏻

doesn’t matter if you lived as a nun. helping sinners see the light and righteousness of god. doesn’t matter if you fed por hand your entire life. or even if you solved the trolly problem.

one toe out of line, and your ass is grass.

so you’re in hell. if you knew you’d be going to hell you would’ve done a lot worse things in your human life for more power.

imagine living on the low, yeah you’ve killed people, maybe even took a soul or two. but it’s nothing to brag about, especially compared to the over lords.

—

very important note at the end.

1-800-662-4357 - addiction hotline.

by pressing ‘read more’ you have consented to reading this.

just a few years into your stay they started going missing. one, by one.

there was a whisper in the wind, a chill in the air as everyone had this impending sense of dread as a new over lord would be found almost daily. ripped to shreds, horribly mutilated, with missing limbs and ginormous bite marks that would open the food gates for intestines to spill out and pool around them.

sometimes there were no intestines at all.

or a body.

yet there was always a new broadcast

it wasn’t an exaggeration that everyone has been looking over their shoulders whenever the shadows looked a bit longer than usual. when the air starting churning and crackling. when the sudden sound of screaming ripped through the air. it was a natural hell-born reflex to flinch at the slightest noise of static.

a conditioning technique his radio broadcasts seemed to involuntarily instill on sinners.

you’ve never seen this so called ‘radio demon’ in person before. well, barely have been able to escape him and tell the tale so you weren’t sure what to look for.

or look out for. all you knew is that his name was alastor. and that whenever you heard that name you blood ran cold and your body stiffened.

tour mind would ring and your head would pound as you try to remember just where you’ve heard that name before.

yet your memory always failed you.

but alcohol never did.

seated at a bar as noisy club music blasted, you trace your finger longingly on the rim of your shot glass. eyes already drooping as your wrist which was keeping your head propped up started to ache.

you wouldn’t call yourself an alcoholic per say. more of a,,, continuous connoisseur. which was surprising due to the hellish prices on everything here.

it’s not eternal damnation unless there’s a 5% sales tax plus gruitivity.

so instead of working your ass off to make a living, you’ve decided: ‘hey, it’s hell! i can do whatever i want (to an extent) and so i choose to scam men!!’

with every new bar came a new rotation of men looking to take up the empty seat next to you. you puffed your chest as you recalled a few women and non conforming folks take the seat sometimes.

you always made sure to… entertain them.

feeling a familiar pit in your stomach, you pause your hand. the coldness of the shot glass cooling your hot lips as the animal man next to you howls with laughter. the alcohol hitting his system like a firecracker.

and like clock work, his hand slipped around your waist, as he whispered filthy nothings you didn’t bother to catch, having heard it all before. even the sweet begging to take out to one of the many sex rooms the club has.

yet he dragged you towards the exit.

and you allowed him.

you thought it comically ironic that you were doing just the thing that punched your ticket down here.

the bitter cold nipped at your skin and tickled your brain. you were always so confused with the temperature of hell. freezing at night, scorching during the day.

even he’ll hated the homeless. who knew 🤷🏻

in the alley next to the club the animal man was biting and clawing at you. panting and speaking gibberish as his clumsy movements seemed to cause a new line of blood on your skin. you couldn’t do much to stop it.

limbs and eyes heavy as you tried focusing on him, on his wandering hands, his filthy mouth.

you wanted to go home.

he favored ignoring your sluggish mumbling and groans to comment about ‘wanting to fuck you nice and hard, giving you a few kits to remember him by.’

your clothes were practically in shreds. the chill in the air adding a faux impression of clarity as your arms started to weakly bang against him.

you didn’t even think he noticed as your fists wouldn’t even make it to his chest. you were so weak right now.

the only reason you weren’t crumpled on the ground as because he were pinning your entire body to the wall.

yet the inconsistent grip he had on you caused you to ping pong a bit.

“s stowp” you slurred, head lolling down as you felt his claws stop momentarily. he let out a cackle that rang through your eyes and rattled your brian stem.

fuck. you hissed. this is gonna one shit of a hang over

the drunk broke your thoughts as he continued his drunken rambles.

“the moment you took the sshhhot” spit flew in your face “i paid for… you were mine” he pushed his face in your neck, the hotness of his breathe sending distressed shivers down your body. urging your body to WAKE UP

yet he kept you pinned. you head looked to the side when tears started streaming down your face and with a big, slimy lick he greedily lapped them up.

you started struggling once his claws moved to your legs.

fuck fuck fuck you fucked up. you fucked up. why did you think this was a good idea, you knew something bad was going to happen. why didn’t you just listen to your gut. why didn’t you just take his watch and turn to the next man. why did you entertain him.

why did you let him buy you that drink.

“angel shot” had different meanings for the orderer.

if a woman ordered it, then security would either beat the shit or kill the demon she pointed out. (whether the staff respected women or just wanted an excuse to get blood on their hands, was a topic you often avoided thinking about)

but, if a man orders it… he wants to take a woman to the heavenly gates of sovereignty himself.

that last part is often open to interpretation.

nothing ever got done about these drinks. you were in hell after all. you think the politicians would ban something they invited?

the sting of his drool on an open, bloody bite mark on your collarbone ripped you from the sanctuary of your minds palace as his glowing yellow pierced into yours.

in an instant you felt nails digging into the flesh of your bruised and battered neck. blood dripped from your neck and onto your body as he squeezed harder.

black spots danced across your vision, followed by white, then purple, then red.

“help” you choked out, head lolling to the alley way as people walked by, not even phased. it was just an average day in hell after all.

the arm that wasn’t trying to put distance between you and him was heavily reaching out towards the street. hoping anyone, anything would come save you from your fuck up.

“get ready to meet god, bitch” he growled, hands-

there was a squelching noise as his breathe stilled. you dropped to the ground, hard. as he let go of you. his clawed hands fell limp to his sides. his face was blank as he staggered back.

“w-what” he stuttered, arms shakily moving to his stomach- well, what used to be his stomach- as a black tendril was impaling him.

you couldn’t move, couldn’t even stand or lift your eyes to see the scene before you. your heart beat was slow, yet thunderous in your ears. it’s thump almost made you miss the pleading, miss the screams of absolute anguish as the sound of flesh tearing and static and laughter filled the air. miss the way his head rolled in your direction before a dark, clawed hand reached from the hands and snatched it back.

it felt like hours before someone came up to you. but realistically, it was only a few seconds before you felt something hard and metal touch your head. only for the oddly shaped stick to wrap around your hair and yank your head up.

you groaned at the pain, eyes droopy as you struggled to stay conscious. you wouldn’t have been able to fight even if you wanted to.

paralyzing fear that washed over you like a tsunami, RUN. a voice spoke. yet you couldn’t even breath automatically. that job becoming harder and harder with each passing second. you couldn’t forget about the possibility of broken bones after… your viscous assault.

so you had no choice but to stay pliant to the new player in the game.

“well well well” your eyes snapped up, your eyes met the abyss as a ferocious, crazed grin greeted you.

“it seems you carried over that habit of keeping… bad company he mused. although there was a hint of amusement in his radio voice, you knew there was nothing to laugh about.

he sighed before picking up the demons decapitated head by his hair. pushing it toward your face you were forced to smell him.

he pulled his staff- you- closer to the head, your upper body twisted uncomfortably as you were almost nose to nose with you.

a whine left your throat as alastor face came into your peripheral vision.

“what’s wrong? i thought you two were in the middle of something! but all means continue, i would hate to intrude”

he wasn’t talking about tonight. you knew that.

you felt your consciousness slip for a moment, only for a moment as a sharp sting penetrate your skull.

in a moments time the head was gone, but it was replaced by a dreaded sense of dejavú.

your brows widened as the face of pure, unadulterated fear contorted onto your face.

his grin only seemed to widen as his eyes crinkled harder.

“it seems someone remembers something. tell me miss y/n” he leaned closer, some kind of indigenous symbols started to crackle and float around him.

“tell me what you remember” he sneered, radio voice growling as his horn stretched out longer than before.

your mouth was dry, yet your tears were bountiful as your body’s natural reactions took over.

you were petrified. alastor knew this as you inhaled the intoxicating scent of terror that cling to you like perfume as you struggled to speak.

he hummed in what sounded like disappointment. but you were never sure what he was feeling as that damned smile was always glued on his face. even now.

he stepped away as he dropped your head, luckily your arms were positioned as the perfect pillow for your head to fall onto.

“since that cat has clearly stolen your tongue” he mused, briefly looking to the furry body he just… exterminated. he got bigger. horns growing even linger from his head, like branches from a tree, his already deformed limbs cracked and snapped like twigs as they went in all they grew longer, and larger in thr wrong directions.

you hadn’t thought it possible, but his smile grew larger, sharper as more teeth were revealed. pointy, yellow stained teeth with chunks of flesh and fur still in them smiled at you.

you were scared.

scared for you life-

your soul.

you wanted an escape.

giving up on physical escape meant the only place safe was your mind. yet even there he still resides.

yet his limbs weren’t twisted and broken, his voice wasn’t shrouded in statics and his hair most certainly wasn’t red.

you gasped.

alastor.

his face deepened.

“so you’ve remembered…”

you were shaking, visibly shaking as you saw two of him.

one with full teeth and brown eyes and hair… the other…

monstrous, nightmarish. hell-ish

why’d you think you could escape him, why’d you think you’d get mercy in your afterlife, when you didn’t revive any in your past life.

you didn’t wanna die by the same man twice.

alastor, who could practically read your mind inched his face down further

“don’t worry little one, i do not plan on making the same mistake twice.” like a flicker of a candle his demonic form turned into his human form. though you must have imagined or hallucinated it. as the thing was still there.

yet with each passing moment his horns subdued into his head. his grin downgraded into a smile as the symbols slinked out of existence one by one.

“i was quite… emotional back then.” he pet your hair, instantly stopping your shaking. he pretended it wasn’t because you were scared stiff.

“i didn’t know how to react when i heard you had a midnight rendezvous with the librarians son. it broken my heart” he sniffles, eyes slowly turning back into red slits.

“it saddened me, woed me to do what i had to do.” he sighed. you felt a punch to your gut as his personality did a compete 180.

“i never wanted to… yet you left me in a tricky situation” he shook his head sadly, palm against his cheek to empathize his sadness.

“but!” he said, a smile on his face as he pointed up. “i know it wasn’t your fault, that boy had been ogling you far too long so i did the only thing i thought that was fitting.”

his free hand opened his palm, showing you a faux image of smoke and mirrors, a woman and a man.

they looked around before they noticed each other. you could tell what their relationship was by how they ran to each other.

before they could reach each other, he crumpled his fist, nails digging into his glove as his slits narrowed.

“i ate you heart”

—

1-800-662-4357 - addiction hotline.

*as the author I feel obligated to write this : reader is an alcoholic but they can’t see that they are. due to having friends struggle with this i’m telling you guys straight out. that reader is addicted to alch so that part isn't up to interpretation. it’s very serious and very isolating, please think about your friends and families before you go down this path. voluntarily or involuntarily. addiction isn’t fun or even remotely ‘cool.’ the more serious talks we have about addiction instead of crossing it out as 'something only dirty people do' and start seeing it for the monster it truly is; is the day we will get as a society. although i didn’t struggle with alcohol addiction, i was victim to another kind that plagues me to this day, so please take my advice and make smart choices.

this also extends to self destructive behaviors, like what reader is doing

personally, i think alastor is some kind of ace / demiromantic

out of all the things I was gonna write to come back, I never would've thought it was gonna be a hazbin hotel imagine. let alone an alastor x reader one.

#if you guys want more lmk☝️#personally I think alastor is ace #alastor my love #but what is media if not interpretable #if ANY of you are going through something #not just my moots #im always here to talk as I've seen through a thing or two cause ive been through a thing or two😼#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #yandere alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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bruh-changbin · 1 year

Text

sweet tooth

pairing: park jay x waitress!afab reader

genre: smut, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe), public sex, creampie, finger sucking, minimal food play, lots of mentions of food, brief mention of male masturbation, jongseong is kind of a big desperate loser, lmk if i’m missing anything

word count: 6.7k

a/n: writing this killed me idk why it took fucking forever dawg. but hey, i’m finally giving you all an enha fic without a depressing ending!!! here’s a fun drinking game to play while you read this: take a shot every time jay says a variation of ‘uhhh’ (you will die) ALSOOOO this is for my bae’s @k-ingzo @lix-ables thank you guys for hyping me up to write this bc if you didn’t I’m 90% sure I would’ve scrapped it 😻 LOVE YAAAAA

waiting.

the most painful game one can be subjected to.

seconds stretch into minutes stretch into hours and soon enough the whole concept of time is but a mere social construct that holds no real value.

surely his coffee’s gone cold by now.

the view from the window to his right has progressed from one filled with gold, yellow and orange to one filled with blue, black, and indigo. one by one the neon signs of nearby businesses have flickered on to attract the nighttime crowd.

he tries to ignore the way his heart is sinking in his chest, much like the way he himself is sinking deeper and deeper into the red vinyl cushion of the booth he’s seated in. the overhead speakers have been blaring elvis for the past half hour and he wants to scream and smash a plate on the floor in frustration. if they play hound dog one more time i swear i’m gonna-

jennifer. 20. single. 2.3 km away. her bio read: only swipe right if you like puppies!!!!!

he does like puppies and found her to be quite pretty, so he did as he was instructed. his heart did a small flip in his chest when his phone screen lit up reading ‘it’s a match!’. he got to talking to her and things were going smoothly. well, at least he thought they were. now he’s alone in a booth constantly refreshing their online chat with some sliver of hope that she may still be coming. the same three messages stare back at him:

[5:17 pm] jay : hey! I got here a bit early so i’m just waiting in the car. let me know when you get here and we’ll go in together.

[6:03 pm] jay: it started getting busy so i snagged us a booth, i hope that’s ok… anyways, i’ll see you soon.

[6:49 pm] jay: hello?

whatever, her loss. fuck dating apps.

and fuck jake sim for making him sign up for one.

maybe tinder just isn’t for him. maybe he needs to find love the old fashion way: bumping into someone on the street; locking eyes across a crowded room; both of you reaching for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store and then just insisting that the other takes it. you know, the kind of shit you see in movies.

the only thing is he’s tried the old fashion way for years to no avail, with tinder being his last resort. things like these take time, he tries to remind himself. you can’t rush love, that’s the magic of it!

but now, seated in a booth at an obnoxiously retro themed diner with his head hung low, he has lost all faith in love. he picks up the porcelain mug to his right and downs the dark liquid; cold, just like his heart.

he should just leave. i mean it’s obvious at this point that he’s been stood up so he should just head home where the teasing and nagging from jake that will bruise his ego even more is iminent. there comes a time in life where one must accept defeat and move on with-

“would you like a top up, sir?”

a sudden interjection from a saccharine voice to his left is what pulls him out of his trance of self pity. woah, hello you.

it’s been a long time since he’s been rendered speechless, but you do that to him. you, looking like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine as opposed to serving coffee in a diner. a white button down hugs your torso in all the right ways and he’s envious of the red apron that’s tightly wrapped around your waist because that should be him. the blue ballpoint pen tucked behind your ear somehow makes you 10x more attractive and he can feel his throat close up at the sight of you.

your skin looks smooth and your lips look plump and thank fuck jessica bailed on him because now all he can think about is bending you over this very table and fucking you raw. top up? more like top me, please!

the glint of the gold name tag pinned onto your shirt catches his eye and he reads it: y/n. pretty.

he notices your eyes shifting around anxiously and reality comes crashing down on him. stop drooling over her tits and answer the question you perv. focus!

“i u-uhhh yes, uh yes please that’d be great,” he stutters out embarrassingly, prompting you to bend over and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee from a pot that you hold with a perfectly manicured hand.

“can i get you anything else while you…” your eyes dart to the empty seat across from where he’s seated, “wait?”

god this is so embarrassing. now the cute waitress thinks he’s a fucking loser who got stood up (that is exactly what happened). could this day get any worse? he was just about to leave, spare himself from more agony when you waltzed into his life and made his brain a complicated, frazzled mess.

“uhmm no that’s ok,” he’s trying very hard not to trip over the simplest of words, “just the bill would be great.”

you nod, about to turn around and head over to the register when jay speaks up again in an attempt to preserve his image.

“it was supposed to be a-a work meeting,” he starts while motioning to the still empty spot across from him, “but my uh….. business partner… couldn’t make it, so..”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. someone waiting for their ‘business partner’ to show up wouldn’t be checking their phone every 1-3 minutes while intermittently wiping their clammy palms on their slacks every time the doorbell jingles and a new customer enters.

but he doesn’t need to know that, so you paint on an understanding smile before heading over to the diner counter, sparing him one final glance over your shoulder.

it’s a sad sight to see; a handsome boy patiently waiting for someone who’s clearly not going to show up. so you bring him a slice of red velvet cake dolled up with cream cheese icing and waive the two cups of coffee that were tacked onto his bill for the evening.

“it’s on the house,” you practically whisper into his ear while placing a comforting hand on his sturdy shoulder.

“oh!” his voice cracks, “t-thank you so much i-” he calls, but you’re already walking away to assist another table.

his hand instinctively reaches to where yours was placed on his shoulder only moments ago. he could sense the warmth radiating from your palm, feel the stray hairs of your bangs tickle his ear, smell the artificial strawberry scent of your lip gloss.

either someone decided to crank the heat up in the diner or he’s becoming extremely flustered (it’s the second one). he scoffs down the cake you left him with flushed cheeks and tight pants, visions of himself prying your legs open and indulging in something sweeter plaguing his mind.

with a hefty sigh he throws on his coat before making his way out of the diner and into his car that’s parked right out front. from behind his windshield he watches as you greet a group of other customers before turning his keys in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

he doesn’t even make it home before he’s pulling into an empty parking lot and jerking himself to the thought of you and your work uniform and your glossed lips.

covet. desire. yearn for. crave.

all very real tertiary emotions that park jay would use to describe his current feelings towards you - a server who he spoke to for two minutes max and now can’t seem to move on from.

unsurprisingly, jake teased the fuck out of him for getting stood up in the way that friends do. but he doesn’t know that jay views his failed date as a complete success.

albeit he is still mildly salty over the fact that he got stood up, all negativity is washed from his brain the moment he pulls into the familiar parking lot in front of the familiar diner and he feels the familiar pitter patter of his heart quickening its pace from behind his ribcage.

he tried to hold off on returning the literal day after he was just there, he really did, but he simply couldn’t bear it. the urge to see you, to observe you interacting with other patrons to know if you’re nice to everyone or if he got special treatment is too strong to ignore. it’s for science! he assures himself.

the dulcet jingle of the bell as he opens the door to the diner rings in his ears, and he waits to be seated. the hostess that shows him to a booth similar to the one he was in yesterday is pretty, but she’s not you. only then does jay realize that the possibility of you not having been scheduled to work today is very real. this is only worsened by the fact that he decided to come in the late morning today as opposed to the evening like yesterday. stupid, stupid, stupid!!!

while feeling like a complete and utter idiot he decides to get to work, whipping out his journal, writing utensils and laptop for the sake of not looking like a weirdo. what kind of person goes to a diner and just…. sits there. he’s gotta keep up a facade.

things are starting to look grim for jay as he sits and works and waits for the object of his desire to appear in front of him. while the retro cat clock on the wall continues its relentless ticking he attempts to swallow down his dismay.

alas, the universe must be on his side after all for soon enough he catches a glimpse of you through his peripherals. yes! you seem to be a little frazzled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek before grabbing a mop to clean up the chocolate milk that a toddler has decided to decorate the floor with; your shift must have just started.

he keeps his head hung low while intermittently scribbling in his journal or scrolling on his laptop, opting to steal an occasional glance as you assist a plethora of other patrons. the coffee he was served upon his arrival is starting to go tepid, much like yesterday, and he’s practically praying you’ll soon stride over and ask if he needs a top up.

“more coffee…” you pause briefly, “jay?”

hold up, how’d you learn his name?

his brow quirks upwards in confusion and with your hand - the one that’s not holding a boiling pot of coffee - you point to his leather bound journal that’s splayed across the table, opened to the first page. property of park jay is scrawled across the top in his sloppy handwriting akin to that of a first graders. he’s surprised you can even distinguish what it says to be completely honest.

“ahhh,” he remarks in understanding, smiling ever so slightly because hey, now you know each others names. that’s a step in the right direction.

“were you looking to order something? you know, other than black coffee.”

as if on cue his stomach growls (luckily quietly enough for you to not pick up on it) and he fumbles for the plastic covered menu to his right that slips and slides in his sweaty grasp.

“i would love to but uhh, i’m not sure what i’m in the mood for… what do you recommend?”

you roll his question around in your head for a moment, “were you thinking sweet or savoury? or if you want both, we make a pretty mean monte cristo.”

at this point if you told jay to walk off a cliff he would do it, so he orders your recommendation without hesitation.

“good call,” you purr before waltzing away from his booth and into the kitchen, leaving jay to erupt in a fit of goosebumps on his own.

while he waits he busies himself with reading an article on his laptop, getting halfway through before realizing he hasn’t actually been taking any information in the entire time. but can you blame him? his brain is… preoccupied with other thoughts.

soon enough you’re striding back over to where he’s seated, placing a steaming monte cristo with so much confectioner's sugar on top it looks as if there’s been a mini avalanche in front of him. he thanks you and is about to dig in before he realizes you aren’t leaving.

“is your business partner coming today?”

…what?

“my business partner? i don’t- OH! fuck, uh y-yes my business partner right! uh no, no he’s not coming today. i usually come here to work on my own though.”

for a moment he forgot about the blatant lie he spilled to you the last time he was here to save face, but he thinks he saved himself with that last bit.

a playful yet triumphant smirk makes its way onto your face, “that’s funny, i’ve never seen you here before yesterday.”

his eyes widen and his palms become impossibly sweaty. caught in a lie, great.

before he can come up with a witty response you just shoot him a knowing look as you walk away from the booth he’s seated in, your strawberry body spray wafting behind you and infiltrating his senses, rendering him immobile.

ugh how you make his teeth ache! he longs to douse you in syrup and powdered sugar, drag his hot tongue across your skin as you squirm and twist in pleasure underneath him. he’s sure you’d be sweet enough to give him a cavity. he finishes his monte cristo with gusto and attempts to do more work on his laptop but finds his brain to be far too frazzled to do so.

when he decides to call it quits, he leaves you a hefty tip before driving home with the taste of sugar coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.

over the span of a few weeks the two of you become accustomed to a game similar to the likes of cat and mouse.

he shows up to the diner in the late morning/early afternoon and prays that you’re scheduled for a shift; you usually are. through the course of a few hours jay manages to get minimal amounts of work done while you check on him occasionally, offering your opinions on different menu items and then placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh when he trips over his words.

he’s sure you can sense the tension as well, but in case you can’t he keeps his thoughts to himself. you could just be doing your job for all he knows.

nevertheless, it feels as if all aspects of jay’s life now revolve around you. when he falls asleep at night you’re the last thing on his mind and when he wakes up you’re the first. when he gets himself off he has to think of you or else he won’t feel satisfied, and he can only hope and pray that one day he’ll be able to feel your body against his, the warmth radiating from your body making him feel like a cake in an oven.

sure he’d love to take you out, shower you with gifts and spoil you by taking you to expensive places that would surely break the bank, but he just can’t seem to push away all of the hardly appropriate thoughts and feelings he harbours towards you. it’s becoming quite an issue, honestly.

he thinks of popping the buttons on your blouse open one by one before diving in, scattering bite marks and bruises across your tits and neck and collarbones as you writhe and plead underneath him. i need more jay, please give it to me…

god you would sound so perfect.

his fantasies don’t stop there though; they never do. he can’t help himself from imagining what it'd be like to reach up your skirt and peel your panties down your legs as if they’re strands of red licorice. he’d go so slow, taunting and teasing you before slipping himself inside of you and feeling your cunt suck him in as if you crave him like oxygen.

you smell of strawberries and he’s sure you taste like them too. the stripper red polish on your nails would pair so well with the scratches he’s sure you’d leave across the expanse of his back and shoulders. he longs to dig his teeth into your plush thighs like they’re mochi, snapping a picture of his bite mark embedded in your perfect skin to save for later use.

down bad is an understatement when it comes to jay’s desire for you. infatuation is more like it.

today starts off like every other day. the smell of burnt coffee is what pulls him from his slumbers, and the clock on his bedside table tells him he managed to sleep in until one in the afternoon. when he trudges into the kitchen he sees his roommate and friend jake, who likely also just woke up and still doesn’t understand how to properly operate a coffee machine, staring at his phone.

it’s then that jake reminds him of the plans they made to spend the afternoon at their friends house playing video games before grabbing takeout for dinner. jay curses his past self for agreeing to these dumb plans with his dumb friends since he was planning on heading to the diner today to marvel at his favourite waitress! oh well, he can still head over for an hour and a half at most before he has to return and uphold the prior promise he made.

he turns down jake’s offer of a cup of coffee and, after a quick shower, he’s flying out the door.

when he finally makes it to the place where he spends most of his days now he doesn’t even wait to be seated, just slips into the same booth as always and waits for you. the little ritual the two of you have fallen into now so ingrained into his brain he can’t imagine straying from it. alas, it’s decently busy today so he busies himself by scrolling through his instagram feed while waiting for you to grace him with your presence.

when you finally appear in front of him you don’t say anything, just shoot him your usual friendly smile while precariously placing a napkin and mug of black coffee in front of him before leaving as quickly as you came. this sends jay into an emotional spiral. oh god, did i do something wrong? he ponders to himself, brows furrowed as he tries to remember everything he said to you during your last interaction that could have potentially been misconstrued.

only then does he notice the blue ink poking out from the napkin tucked underneath his steaming mug of coffee. with shaky hands he pulls it out and reads the short message written in your refined penmanship:

my shift is done at 10:00 pm.

wait for me? :)

y/n

and just below your neat scrawl he can make out a sticky lip gloss print, a faint hint of the fake strawberry scent that plagues his mind day and night still lingering.

in this moment he should be happy, ecstatic, victorious even! his constant and obsequious devotion to you has not gone unnoticed, and at long last he’ll be alone with you in a place that doesn’t have checkered tile floors and posters of pin ups on every square inch of the teal coloured walls. but no, all he feels is embarrassment.

embarrassment because he was too much of a wiener to actually do something so you felt the need to take matters into your own hands. and embarrassment because your little napkin love letter signed off with your glossy kiss is making him excruciatingly horny. it’s like he’s in highschool all over again - yikes.

he glances at the face of the silver watch that he scarcely takes off, the leather wrist strap now feeling uncomfortably tight considering his recent spike in blood pressure. with some reluctance he decides to leave early, tucking your napkin note into his pocket before driving home while barely focusing on the road and cars in front of him.

the hangout with jake and the rest of his friends is excruciating as expected. time seems to both fly by and drag on simultaneously, and he watches the hands on his watch tick down the hours, minutes, seconds until he can finally be with you - alone. when jake finally throws the towel in jay all but runs out of the door, speeding down the now far emptier city streets before pulling into the dining parking lot and waiting (he’s 23 minutes early).

with every passing minute his heart rate quickens and, when the time reads 10:06 pm, he thinks he’s going to faint when he sees you exit your place of work and scan the parking lot briefly before making your way over to his car. the sound of his passenger side door opening feels far off as he tries to make sense of the fact that you are about to be in his car, right beside him. what the fuck.

“hi.”

“i like your car.”

“oh, you do?”

“yep. it suits you.”

“really?”

you only nod at this, flashing him a subtle grin before flipping down the sun visor in front of you to tidy up your appearance after a long and tiring shift (he still thinks you look pretty). it feels as if his fingers aren’t his own as he fiddles with the radio while gazing at you through his peripherals, watching as you rub the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes before applying a final coat of the lip gloss that he loves oh so much. how on earth is he going to last longer than 5 minutes without falling at your feet?

“sooo what do you wanna do?” jay questions, unsure if his eagerness to hear your response is because he’s genuinely curious or because he just likes the sound of your voice.

“you choose, take me anywhere,” you offer with a smile, “surprise me!”

“okay!” he responds, narrowly escaping a voice crack as he shifts his car into reverse.. he has just the place in mind.

the drive is somewhat of a lengthy one, although you don’t seem to mind. it’s warm enough to have the windows down, and jay greedily gulps down deep breaths of the fresh night air. from your spot in the passenger seat you ramble about your day at the diner, complaining about an old man who held the ketchup bottle the wrong way and promptly squirted it all over you when you came to ask how he was doing. despite all, you still manage to have a positive attitude.

soon enough he’s pulling off of the main road into an opening surrounded by woods, killing the engine and the car lights and opting to bask in the natural glow of the night sky.

“wow jay, way to be subtle.”

“what!!?”

“what do you mean what? you bring me to the city’s unofficial official makeout spot and expect me to not be skeptical?”

fuck. for the entirety of the drive over he was hoping that you wouldn’t know about the promiscuous reputation this spot has garnered over the years. he can’t give up this quickly though, he must play innocent!

“i- woahh, is that what this place is? i genuinely had no idea i just-”

“shut it jay, the first thing i noticed about you was that you’re a terrible liar.”

you’ve got him there, deception is not his strong suit. he’s about to explain himself when he notices you unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of his car, prompting him to do the same.

“i just thought it would be a nice, secluded space where we could talk and hang out… nothing more.”

silence settles over the two of you and, upon noting jay’s queasy expression, you decide to indulge yourself and tease him (just a little bit).

“what are you trying to say?” you bat your eyelashes and fake being in thought, “that you don’t wanna fuck me on the hood of your car?”

he chokes on his saliva.

“w-what i’m trying to say is that i’m a uhhhh gentleman. i’m a gentleman.”

yeah right, you think to yourself. a gentleman and a major fucking hypocrite.

“okay jay, if you’re such a gentleman then why do you have a raging hard-on from literally just talking to me?”

in the pale moonlight you see his eyes widen before he scrambles to cover his crotch, not doing much to conceal his erection that’s straining against his slacks.

“oh god i’m so sorry i can explain uhh-”

“i’m just fucking with you,” you taunt before petting his hair affectionately, attempting to quieten your giggles while jay plasters on a fake smile even though he looks like he’s about to puke. in an attempt to garner the little composure he has left he turns away from you, the cool night air soothing his heated cheeks.

from where he’s standing he’s granted an overarching view of the city he calls home. against the nighttime sky he can decipher the suburbs, the downtown area, the cafe district. upon each building there’s a small rectangle filled with yellow or white light, windows in which individual people are carrying out their individual lives; it makes everything seem so… miniscule. i mean, aside from you, nobody even knows he’s up here - and he’s still trying to decipher if that’s a good thing or not, seeing as tonight all he’s done is embarrass himself.

when he looks back you’re leaning against the hood of his car, your arms folded across your chest which sequentially shoves your tits together in a way that makes him wanna plunge his face in between them and give you a good old fashioned motorboat.

his thoughts are cut off when you speak up.

“i brought you something,” you announce before turning and opening the passenger side door of jay’s car, trifling around in your before before pulling something out and heading back to where you were standing before, leaning against the hood of his car. in your hands is a toppled over piece of red velvet cake protected by a clear plastic takeout container coupled with two disposable forks.

“sorry it’s kinda smushed…. i forgot about it.”

“no, that’s ok!” jay thinks you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything ever, “thank you.”

with a crisp pop you open up the container, moving it to sit in between the two of you before passing jay one of the flimsy plastic forks. he lets you take the first bite, stating that after a long shift you need to get your blood sugar back up. you laugh before complying, watching as jay takes a bite right after you do, his eyes rolling back as all of the sweet, rich flavours dance across his taste buds. despite the piece of cake not being in the best condition, it still tastes like heaven.

jay’s caught off guard when your hand suddenly swoops in just as he’s about to spear another piece of cake with his fork, collecting a dollop of icing on one of your nails. he should’ve seen it coming when you reach up and wipe it on the tip of his nose with a playful laugh.

“wow y/n, so original,” he sneers while wiping the cream cheese icing on his nose onto the back of his hand.

he attempts to do the same to you, dipping his finger in the thick frosting before moving to wipe it on the tip of your nose, but you suddenly latch onto his wrist. he watches with hungry eyes and an erratic pulse as your tongue comes in contact with his knuckle, licking all the way up to his icing-coated fingertip before taking his digit inside your mouth. the thick muscle of your tongue wraps around his finger, sucking away the sweetness before you pull yourself off of him. a faint pink ring of lip gloss on the base of his knuckle now present.

fuck me.

not a single word is exchanged before jay pushes himself onto you, prompting you to lean back against the hood of his car that’s still slightly warm. with your body weight resting on your elbows and your legs spreading to accommodate jay’s torso, you finally let him taste you.

your lips are soft and warm like a pastry fresh out of the oven, and when he pulls away he heaves a heavenly sigh filled with pleasure and contentment and thank fuck this is finally happening. it’s not long before you’re pressing your lips to jay’s again, one of your hands moving up to caress the shell of his ear before resting against his face.

you can feel his jaw move against your palm when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue across your sugar coated lips, inducing you to do the same. when his tongue pushes past your teeth and brushes against yours you groan in pleasure, the fingers previously gracing his face dipping down to undo several buttons of your work shirt. with his lips against yours and his tongue down your throat you can feel him giving into you, as if you’re a delectable piece of his favourite candy and he has a raging sweet tooth.

when jay pulls himself off of you you think you might just cry. luckily you don’t go without his touch for long, for when you open your eyes you watch him dip two fingers into the frosting on top of the forgotten slice of cake before smearing it across the exposed flesh of your tits and down your sternum. he promptly shoves the two frosting coating fingers into your gaping mouth, gazing at you with heart eyes as you suck them clean.

only then does he dip his head down, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your right breast before licking the stripe of icing off with one broad swipe of his tongue. he gives your other breast the same treatment before giving it teasing nips and kisses, using his tongue to soothe the pinch of his canines.

once he licks the rest of the frosting from your sternum he continues his descent, not stopping until the insides of your thighs are brushing against his pierced ears. in one swift movement he flips your skirt upwards, your pretty panties with a subtle wet patch now on display for him and only him.

not being able to resist seeing your bare cunt in all of its glory, jay eagerly digs two fingers into the waistband before dragging the fabric down your legs. your lacy pink thong gets all twisted and tangled around your ankles as jay struggles to pull it off, eventually managing to get it around your sneakers before tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping.

he feels his pants grow impossibly tights as he stares at you on the hood of your car with your legs spread, quite literally something that could’ve been torn right out of a playboy. without missing a beat jay dives into you, flattening his thick tongue and licking you like he would a dripping ice cream cone. it catches you by surprise and you instinctively tangle your fingers in his ebony tresses, a needy moan making its way past your lips and into the air. jay uses the tip of his tongue to explore your needy pussy, lapping up your juices and revelling in the taste on his tongue. i could die like this he thinks, and he digs his blunt nails into your thighs while shoving his head impossibly deeper.

it’s somewhat sloppy, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. it feels like he’s practically making out with your cunt and you can’t help yourself from tugging on his hair in approval. the groans he emits in response have you shuddering, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and tremble as you struggle to keep them pried open. in your lower abdomen you can feel the pressure of an impending orgasm begin to brew.

this sensation only doubles when jay shifts his focus to your clit, sucking on and toying with it like it’s a sugar-covered gumdrop. his actions have you arching your back off of the hood of his car, eyes squeezing shut as you cry and plead, “p-please don’t stop jay… never stop.”

your pleas boost jay’s ego to the max and he eats you out with unrestrained passion, alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your hole until you finish all over his mouth with a canorous cry that reverberates between his ears. he hopes to never forget that sound.

with reluctance he pulls himself off of your sweet pussy, having to push your legs apart slightly to free himself from the way they were clenching around his head. he stares at you in awe as you bask in the post-orgasm sensation, mouth agape and chest heaving faintly. your eyes, when you finally pry them open, are slightly glassy and it looks like it takes you a second to come back to earth.

your grip on jay’s hair loosened but you never fully let go, and soon enough he feels you tugging at his roots in an attempt to get him to hover over you once again. without hesitation you press your lips to his once again, tasting yourself in and on his mouth as you kiss him until you can’t breathe.

his curious hands never stay resting in one spot on your body for longer than a second before he’s exploring somewhere else, his mouth making a path from your lips down to your jaw and neck. the tips of his fingers finally stop when they reach your hips, gripping onto your and flipping you over so your chest is against jay’s car and your ass is up in the air.

he can’t help himself from ogling at your perfect form all splayed out for him. the curve of your ass is to die for and jay starts subconsciously unbuckling his belt, easing the strain of his pants against his painfully hard dick.

from your spot on top of the car you begin to grow impatient. your tits are smushed and your neck is craned and even though you just came you’re already ready for another one if it means you get to feel jay filling you up like a cream puff. luckily, you soon feel the tip of jay’s cock dragging through your folds, your still-sensitive clit throbbing slightly when he bumps into it. the sound of jay spitting into his palm joins that of the crickets and your erratic breathing, soon replaced by his sighs of delight as he strokes his cock with his spit covered hand to help lube it up.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you finally feel him prod your entrance with his tip, although you can sense some hesitancy. it’s not surprising when the silence is broken by jay asking: “...are you ready?”

he feels his chest tighten when you make a noise of approval followed by a meek nod, your starry eyes glancing back at him as much as you can in this particular position. with a hefty exhale he nods back before slowly starting to sink into you, a low groan making its way out of his chest as he pushes deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with your ass.

once fully inside of you he remains stagnant for a moment, needing to adjust to how incredibly warm and tight you feel if he wants to last longer than three seconds. soon enough he feels he’s garnered enough collectedness to start moving, so he does.

his movements are small, almost timid at first. like he’s testing the waters, garnering enough confidence to go harder, faster. your hushed whimpers of pleasure ring in his ears and he teasingly rolls his hips in an attempt to have you feel him impossibly deeper inside of you.

“j-jay!” you cry when he seemingly bumps your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the muscles of your waist tensing up when he does. wanting to provide you as much pleasure as possible he continues his ministrations, not altering them in any way out of fear of doing something wrong.

jay feels his stomach start to seize up as a pleasurable burn takes hold in his lower stomach, his vision blurring slightly at the edges as he shifts between groaning aloud and biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’ll break the skin and draw blood. with exercised caution he picks up the pace, ensuring that in this moment you’re still feeling as good as he is.

his cock slips in and out of your desperate, dripping hole with ease, your hips banging against the unyielding metal hood of his car with each and every thrust. it’s hardly comfortable, but at this moment in time you think you’d rather die than have jay stop - so you persevere.

“god you’re so good jay, so fucking big,” you praise as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching steadily. most of your limbs have started to go numb from the position you’re in yet you can feel each and every nerve end slowly begin to burn up, to bring you closer and closer to release. when jay reaches down to toy with your aching clit, you’re done for.

the slight ache from the way your cunt is stretched around his cock adds to the jolting sensations that come every time he bumps your clit has you so close, so close you can taste the sweet promise of an orgasm dancing on the tip of your tongue. jay feels it too, for he throws all inhibitions to the wind and fucks you from behind with no restraint.

he can feel his release creep up his spine and spread through all of his limbs until it’s all he can see, taste, and feel. groans continue to spill past his lips as white hot light floods his senses and a blinding orgasm washes over him, which is only strengthened by the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock as you finish underneath him. he cums inside of your wanting cunt, filling it up to the brim before collapsing on top of you with a grunt.

seconds turn into minutes and the two of you remain in place, breaths and pulses struggling to return to normal as you come down from an intense high. jay can feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and he scrambles off of you when he realizes he was quite literally resting all of his weight on you.

with a helping hand he helps you sit up, chuckling slightly when your knees turn to jello when you try to stand up. so, you opt to stay seated on the hood of jay’s car for just a few more moments, patting the spot beside you to get him to sit down. you’re sure you look like a mess, but jay gazes at you with something that can only be described as awe.

smitten. captivated. enraptured. allured.

the pale light of the moon casts a heavenly glow across your face, and he kisses your lips like they’re covered in strawberry syrup.

a/n: tumblr’s editing system is the biggest piece of garbage i am so sorry if there are any weird glitches or anything but i am literally seconds away from whipping my laptop at the wall out of frustration as i edit this so pls lmk if anything looks weird when this posts lawl thank you

#enhypen smut #park jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #park jongseong fanfiction #park jay fanfiction #park jongseong blurbs #park jay blurbs

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pixie-ass · 6 months

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Tim LaFlour x F!Coquette(ish) reader

Readers a girl in his english class, inspired by the scene of him reading Langston Hughes. They're opposites bc I think the opposite aesthetic trope is so damn cute.

I have a lot of ideas for this trope that I'll try to add!

Warnings - none except for fluff with my fav punk!

°•♡•°

Tim was not the best at poetry. Needless to say, english literature wasn't one of his strongest suits. That's why when the professor had assigned a very long, very taunting poetry book along with an analysis, he was fucked. Not only that but he didn't really know anybody in that class to ask for help and he was sure his roommate, Daryl, was as clueless as him.

As class was dismissed and all the students were beginning to leave, Tim packed his stuff up, sighing as he began to think. The class size wasn't big, so as people walked out, he looked around for anyone who seemed helpful, only to catch eyes with a particular girl.

He'd noticed her since the beginning of the semester. She always sat second row on the right and would never talk unless called on. He noticed all her supplies were a light shade of pink, which he thought suited her. She'd always dress with light colors too, very put together. Tim sat in the row behind her a few seats to her left so he'd always find himself zoning out on her, only because she stood out.

“Do you know how to do this?” He'd take his chance and ask her, she seemed so sophisticated taking notes everyday, he was sure she'd know what she was doing. Her eyes widened and she seemed to go from shock, to confusion, to acceptance all in the span of a second. “Yeah, we're just going through the book assigned and analyzing the poems. Pretty easy.” She smiled as she swung her backpack (light pink of course) over her shoulders.

“I got that, but I don't get it, like how we're supposed to analyze. I suck at this class.” She giggled in response, causing Tim's brows to knit in confusion, he couldn't find what was amusing. “It's pretty simple, if you want, I can help you.” She offered him a sweet smile that caused him to smile. He nodded, “Yeah, that'd be awesome! We can work in my dorm.”

She nodded, “I'm y/n by the way.” She offered her hand out for him to shake. He slipped his hand into hers, feeling her soft skin and admiring how well taken care of her nails were. “Tim! Nice to meet ya." He stared into her eyes almost dumbfounded as he shook her hand, a dumb smile plastered on both their faces.

------

A knock on the door startled Daryl as he sat in the living room, tense from the drug effects. Tim opened the door to his dorm, quickly walking over to the front door and opening it, “Hey! Welcome, welcome, you can make yourself right at home. My rooms over here.” Daryl raised a brow as he watched the very opposite girl walk in. Her light clothed and accessories a blinding contrast to everything Tim owned. It was almost comedic.

“We’re gonna be studying, dawg, so don't interrupt so we can get smart.”

“Yeah man, don't worry. You have fun.” He responded, a teasing hint in his tone.

As the girl walked into his room, she couldn't help but look around, admiring all the punk posters and dark themes. She stood out like a sore thumb. Her white sweater, blue jeans, and pink accessories were almost blinding in there. Tim noticed straight away, letting out a small chuckle as he shut the door. “You listen to any of them?” He asked, pointing to his various punk band posters. As expected, she shook her head, “No, haha. They look sick, though.” This caused Tim to smile as she set her bag down on the floor next to his bed. He motioned for her to sit, and she did.

Immediately, she began pulling out the poetry book and some paper. I guess she was here for business. Tim sat down across from her, getting his own stuff out. As she got a paper, she began explaining, Tim nodding in response as he listened. It seemed a hundred times easier to listen to her than the professor. After explanations he began to understand, they'd take turns reading poems out loud, analyzing, highlighting, and annotating what they agreed was important, (though it was mostly Y/n who would point out most and Tim would just agree since she seemed so pleased).

Tim noticed that when she would concentrate she would chew on the end of her pencil, her glossy pink lips attracting him like a moth to light. She had pretty lips and he couldn't help but stare at them, his own mouth seeming to slightly open as he stared until he had to catch himself multiple times.

After about 2 hours of this, they'd finished more than half the assignment, and they were both more than exhausted. It was nearly midnight. Yawning, y/n shut the poetry book, packing her papers into her folder. They hadn't chit chatted a lot, Tim didn't want to interrupt her focus so as they cleaned up Tim spoke up.

“So do you enjoy poetry? You seemed really into all the poems.” Y/n shrugged as she packed away the last of her things, “I guess I do. I like the beauty and emotion put into poems. They're really beautiful if you read them right.” Her response was said in a sleepy tone but was so sincere, Tim found himself feeling a sort of admiration along with a tingling in his stomach.

He smiled at her as she broke out into a yawn again. “You seem tired, we should get to sleep, eh.” He suggested standing up and fixing his bed to rest. She also stood up, stretching her body. “How fars, your dorm? I can walk you. It's pretty late, so I wouldn't want you to get spooked.” She giggled as he said it. Mostly, his tone was what made her laugh.

“It's all across campus, on the other side of the main hall.” His brows raised in concern. “That far? That's like a 10 minute walk.” He knew it wasn't far but she seemed so tired he wasn't sure if she'd even make it, she looked one blink away from knocking over like a leaf in the wind.

“You'd be better off staying here.” She raised a brow at his comment, a frown appearing on her soft face, “I'm not dumb enough to stay in a college guys dorm for the night. If you're thinking what you are, know I'm not the one.” Her sleepy voice was now stern as she headed for the door, her walk telling him that his comment had made her upset.

“Hey, hey. I didn't mean it like that. I promise! I'm on a no sex, drugs, or anything sinful pact so I swear I didn't mean anything that you're thinking.” He raised his arms up in defense, watching as she stopped and turned around, eyeing him.

“I was just saying, since you look so tired. I think it'd be better for you to just sleep here than walk all the way over there.” She stared at him in silence for a few long seconds.

She was only thinking it through so much since she really found Tim to be cute. Ever since she'd laid eyes on him as he walked in through the door mid-lecture, she'd felt her cheeks go pink. Something about the way he looked, or carried himself, or talked, it all fascinated her, and soon enough, she found herself crushing on him like a high school girl.

Sighing, she responded, “Okay, fine. But only because I really am so exhausted.” Tim's face seemed to go from upset to a beaming smile quickly. “Awesome! You can borrow one of my T-shirts if you want. And you can take the bed. I'll take the floor.” He exited the room after tossing a t-shirt onto the bed, leaving her a very flustered and hot mess. Her heart was racing as she lifted up the shirt he'd left for her. It was of a punk band. It smelled just like Tim. She blushed as she put it on. She blushed as she got into Tim's very soft and warm bed, blushed at how sweet it was for him to offer to sleep on the floor.

As she tucked in, Tim knocked, walking in after she answered and smiled down at the view of her covered in his blanket, completely bundled from neck down.

"Thank you for helping me by the way. Learned more from you then the professor, goodnight.”

He shut the lights off, and y/n heard as he shuffled on the floor. Looking down, she saw him lying with a comically small blanket and a decor pillow. Her heart raced in her ears as she decided if she should speak or not.

“You can sleep on the bed, Tim. It's your bed anyway, so I'd feel terrible if you slept on the floor.” She was also pitied by the sight of his tall figure under that poor excuse of a blanket. She heard him shuffle and next thing he was standing.

“You sure? Really, I'm alright sleeping on the good ole floor.” He chuckled.

“Im sure.” She scooted over to the other side, patting the bed. He didn't hesitate even a second as he tucked in beside her, far enough to not make her uncomfortable. As her eyes adjusted, she could begin to make out his silhouette in the dark. That's when she realized how close he really was, and she found a new found heat on her face. She went to cover her head with the blanket as if he could see her reddened cheeks.

“Tim.? You still awake?” She spoke softly under the covers. The soft ruffle of the pillow case sounded, “Yeah. What's up?” He whispered back.

Her hands seemed to tingle along with the butterflies in her stomach. She uncovered herself and moved her body so she could stare at him and him at her, he was already facing her direction though.

“Thank you for letting me stay, I didn't tell you, but it means a lot that you care.” She offered a sleepy smile as she stared into his face. He smiled back, and though she couldn't see it, she could see the outline of his cheeks when he did so.

“It's no biggie. Just the right thing to do. You tell me if you had a pretty girl in your dorm who was tired and lived far away that you wouldn't feel bad if she was alone.” His statement caused her to let out a small giggle into the sheets, which in turn caused her heart to flutter.

She scooted closer to him, not much, not enough to be noticeable in the dark but enough to where she could feel how warm he was, a huge grin spread across her face. "Goodnight, Tim…" Her eyes were far too heavy to keep open now, she shut them, and without a thought cuddled into Tims side causing him to freeze.

He slowly looked down at her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, her closed eyes and her features. Gently he wrapped his arm around her, feeling her shift closer to him, his heart ramming against his chest. She was so small in his arms, so warm, he felt himself leaning into her head, resting his head against the top of hers, caressing her back as she slept. He wasn't sure why he was doing this or why he felt so much in his gut.

All he knew was that he was happy, holding her and admiring her. That he was feeling far too much all at once.

He'd have to talk to her about this tomorrow. His emotions would be the death of him.

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desb3ar · 4 months

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Dance Partner! Miguel O'Hara Imagine | Babble

Imagine you attend dance class and Miguel was the dance teacher there. You and him sharing moments of being close together, the relationship growing into a more intimate one as you exchange longing glances between one another.

His hand wrapped around yours as the other is placed on the small of your back, promising guidance to make sure you're in complete sync with him. Your heads are inches apart from touching as you'd feel the music move within the both of you and influence you to get closer if it was even possible. Warm bodies touching and speaking a silent oath that guarantees security and reliance to never make the other become lost and follow the footsteps to a path of dance and art. His strong arms speaks to you in ways that make you feel safe and how it swore to never let you plummet to the ground. His broad shoulders blocking what lies past them, making you keep your focus on him and him only. His hand placement sends shivers down your spine, yet your mind is never to far gone.

When the music fades away to unveil the sweet reality, you see each other no longer lost in the music, but in each other souls as the feeling you two shared did go away like the music did.

You two remained, faces adorned with the expression of realization. Shocked at the discovery of the connection you shared and how in love you were. --- I really just like the feeling of getting lost in THIS sort of intimacy. intimacy dont mean raw dawging eachother all the time lmfao. this sort of thing makes it sm more richer and allows some connection with the person reading instead of the fruitless sexual acts (to each their own but damn) i get too deep with this man and idk if i should like what i can think and create with him or be concerned that this obsession hasnt left 7 months later.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #art #miguel spiderman #miguel #miguel ohara #atsv fanart #oc #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel fanart #miguel o hara #miguel o’hara x reader

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year

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Ya bitch got into the void state

Champagne anon here and your mf girlll got in the mf void state and manifested her dream life. This happened a week ago, and I’ve been chilling but I do wanna share my story to help others. Gotta give Thanks to Maya, and so many other bloggers and even anon. Y’all hoes will forever be in my heart, and I’m forever grateful 🥹 also Maya girl you told me when I succeed to get into detail and I got nothing to do for the next two hours so imaaa just share it all here in detail.

I also wanna especially thank all the black creators on tumblr!! I didn’t know there were so many of us using the law. It always seems the world is so against us, and there’s nothing we can do abt it but nahhhh!! we can all live our best melanated lives regardless. Periodt, as we should it’s about goddamned time after everything we’ve been though 😂

Anyways!!!! after reading this: https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/717864613626134528/im-your-bubble-anon-but-i-made-this-burner-to success story yesterday I got hella motivated. I read that shit and I thought I posted it on accident because it was everything I had been through, and had been thinking anyways. That anon ate your tumblr habits btw. If y’all haven’t seen my good sis’s sucess post go check that shut out rn, On god it will help.

At the end that anon (my mf dawg 🙏) included that they manifested for everyone. Now ion know if that shit actually work tbh. I’ve seen people say you can and can’t, but tbh the vibes were too high for me to doubt. I was like ight, okay fuck it, ima leave my dream life. Whether it me, that anon, or the devil himself ion give a fuck.

So that’s whatssss a bitch did!!! I just affirmed all day it was very fulfilling. People who hate on affirming are mad corny. I can’t lie that shit works hella fast even if you don’t believe it. Idk if that anon’s void manifesting helped or what but I didn’t do much and after 3 months of trying I entered the damn void state. I’m mad I thought I had to be on some ghandi shit to do this (no hate to him hes da man) but you rlly don’t y’all. BUT LEMME TALK MY SHIT ALL YOU NEED IS AFFIRMING AND PERSISTENCE.

Anyways I went go bed excited asl!! I wrote my script that was like 10 pages long I can’t lie I did the most… but it’s whateva. I woke up in the void state after waking up at 4 am or sum, and i was like oh shityyyt lemme manifest rq and skrttt out this hoe. So that’s what a mf did 😂😂

Anyways the part y’all’s is waiting for. This is what ya girl manifested

Desired face and body. I was in shock how all the details came to life. Y’all im a solid 100/10 it’s giving natural bbl and Aliyah. I swear to gahhh everywhere I go people be trying to peep. I’m not used to being treated like a fucking celeb everywhere I go, whole time it’s just my fat gyattttt

Being the hottest 16 yr old IT GIRL at my school, and having lucky girl syndrome. People call me a mini jayda wayda, but tbh I’m better than her now. No hoe is ever gonna cheat on meee like they did her…bye. She’s still gorgeous as fuck tho

Perfect school life. Your girl is set to be the Valedictorian when I graduate (my school has 4!) I’m also sophomore year President, captain of the basketball team, apart of some volunteer programs through my school, and so much more. My resume and college application is abt to be so fuckin fire in 2 years. As I should Columbia is a competitive ass school 😤😤 that aside everyone always tryna link, I got 3 guys fighting over me (whole damn love square), so many people tryna be my friends, teachers love me, and I excel in everything I do.

My Family being rich assss fuck. My dad got a Wikipedia now and his net worth is 22 million dollars. He owns a hedge fund company now, we love a man in finance 😍😍 AS HE FUCKING SHOULD. He got a material gurlll daughter. Two in fact now.

Fire ass crib. Bro it’s a 9 million dollar penthouse, perfect for ragers. I woke up here and my room is decorated to my personality, pintrest clothes all in my closet, I got an exotic pitbull and frenchie, and the house is just mad clean and fire, I’m obsessed with it. Rarely ever wanna leave now.

My mom not being strict. That bald headed ass hoe use to be mad annoying. Y’all know how Haitians are. Mad annoying as fuck and strict for no reason. Now I go out everyday and come home at midnight and no one gives a fuck. Everyone minds their own business as they should.

Having an older brother and younger sister. I was an only child, because I was a miracle baby bc my mom was infertile. Now she got 3 of us, so she can stop being only in my buisness. I’m just playin I love my mom regardless she’s just hella clingy. Anyways my brother is mad protective but also be wrestling mad aggressive for no damn reason. He gave me a bruise but it’s whateva Ima get my lick back. I also always wanted to be an older sister, bc I’d love to be a role model! My sister is 10 and adores me soo much it’s so adorable 🥹 lmfaooo, she’s mad spoiled by me and my mom but it is what it is.

Successful lip gloss business and being a successful drop shipper. Now you didn’t think a sista wasn’t gonna give herself a career just because I’m young right 🤨🤨 we’ll ya wrong. Ya girl is making 200k-400k a year. I barely even use my money cause I got an allowance from my parents… but still, financial literacy and wealth is so important to me especially as a black woman.

A pookie bae. Y’all know I wasn’t gonna deal with finding a loyal cute and funny guy in nyc. It’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Anyways I got me a fine ass boo. I just wrote down all the features I wanted in him like for exampleS finically secure so he can spoil me, handsome as fuck, tall, funny asl, kind, little clingy, deep raspy voice, nice hand, good hygiene and style,yanno yanooo !!! Plus some other shit and whewww the void did me so good. Nowww my boo bear is a lil cracker and I’ve never dated a white boy befuh but my am I surprised. I wake up everyday with some long ass appreciation texts and plans already made ! Y’all know I love me a dominant man who knows what he wants. He’s got some nice ass clothes, nice car and crib, made me a passenger princess and spoils me way too much. He doesn’t complain abt my mood swings and simps in the best way possible. Not to mention he’s fine afkkk he’s giving vinnie hacker. He’s also 6’1 and I’m 5’1 so that height difference is soooo hot I can’t lie I feel so so safe with him 🫣 I could go on all day but in short he’s more than perfect

+ so much more but this is what shocked me the most. Anyways I’ve been living like this for the past week and it just feel so natural. I keep forgetting I got into the void but whateva I’m the only who knows anyways. Anyways live yo best life and neva give upppp. I gotta go but I’ll probably eventually make a blog. My names angela so look out for it. I’m just mad lazy soo idk tho !!!

Angela out 🫡✌️

Girl this was so fun to read, I’m just as excited for you lmfao. I love seeing black women win, and thank you for sharing your methods! Enjoy your best life and come back if it resonates with your life bae !!!

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #law of attraction #void success

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bakugoushotwife · 11 months

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Hello, idk what to call this, sort of a drabble? But like what naruto characters would be all cocky like 'yeah i want a gf with a high drive' ' i want a freak' etc and then get one and be all tired and regret asking for it

a/n: oh this is actually super funny to think about, i hope this does you justice!!

cw: suggestive/NSFW themes, mild descriptions. jiraiya's and shikamaru's is fem!reader but i tried to keep the rest gn

Naruto: swears up and down he has the stamina. mister "i beat pain" mister "i literally humbled a god" yeah yeah. maybe it's time the hokage himself is humbled. he can't keep up with his wild spouse, who needs at least five rounds after every extended trip away. the spouse who always teases him about not being able to handle it, so now he has to.

Jiraiya: who knows, maybe this is where he gets it from. the pervy sage knows everything there is to know about the female anatomy, but admittedly he's falling short on the female brain or libido. he's written smut books for crying out loud, it's teetering on embarrassing when you call him after you get back to the leaf and he's genuinely fainting at your moves and pacing. maybe's getting old for this, maybe you're just the crazy revenge for all his earlier talk, who can say?

Kakashi: he reads the same smut books bro he's convinced he could handle a horny partner. in fact he craved one, actually confident in his abilities to impress them with his stamina. but he should know better. he was blessed in every way with you, other than the way you craved him several times a day and wanted to try risky and perverse things. i mean, he loves that too of course, but you keep his balls hurting and his brain reminding him to never brag like that again.

Shikamaru: oh you know the type. lived his whole life preparing to be hassled by some lady, the only relief was going to be the bedroom. shika is a suave dude, he thinks he's got his bases covered. but oh god no. not only do you hassle the hell out of him but you put that thun thun thun down all the time!!! and he feels so goofy cause he can't say no to his sweet little wife, after all he did say this would be his only relief...he just didn't know how frequently he'd be relieved.

Kiba: definition of "i got that dawg in me" and then fucks around and finds out that maybe you, actually, have that dawg in you. some days he can barely escape your clutches, but he'd be lying if he said he was aggravated by your neediness. no matter much he ached after giving you what you wanted all day, he was just happy you were satisfied and that he could do that for you. sweetness.

#naruto x reader #naruto drabble #naruto scenario #naruto uzumaki #kakashi sensei #kakashi x reader #kiba x reader #shikamaru x reader #jiraiya x reader

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aloesarchives · 4 months

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JJK Lore Headcanons for "Toji Lives/Megumi cock blocks Toji" AU: Shibuya Incident & Post Shibuya

Warning: !!!SPOILERS FOR ANIME ONLYS!!!, Female/Afab! Reader, Author(me) being a really fucking annoying narrator once again, Swearing, Inaccuracy to the anime and manga, Things that don't make sense but have been trying to, Switching between reader and you, Mentions of OCs but reader is not one, Toji dawging everyone up, Higher-ups being losers, Mention of deaths, Reader not giving a fuck anymore lol

!!Disclaimer!!: These are my PERSONAL headcanons, thoughts, and opinions on how these arcs would play out with Toji being an ally and Reader's thoughts and role in both arcs

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing:Toji x Mama!/Fem!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.9k words

Summary: Lore Headcanons for the “Toji lives”/”Megumi cock blocks Toji” AU for the Shibuya Incident and Post Shibuya.

So with the Shibuya Incident and Post Shibuya, it’s going to be more interesting with Toji being alive, and with him and Reader playing active roles in the arcs. This is a sequel to this headcanon. I’ll split it into two sections: the first is the Shibuya Incident itself and the second half is Post Shibuya, including Itadori's Extermination Arc and The Perfect Preparations arc. However, I probably won’t be making a post for the Culling Games arc and Shinjuku Shown arc because I stopped reading the manga around the start of the Culling Games w/ Tsumiki being awakened which is around mid-2021. So I have been relying heavily on Twitter posts, spoilers, and short videos to explain what’s been going on in the ongoing story. So I need to catch up with JJK itself. Plus, with Toji and Reader’s role in Shibuya and post Shibuya, it would completely change the trajectory of the current JJK plot. Especially with how the Culling Games lead to Shinjuku Showdown. So for now, I’ll be more focused on Shibuya and Post Shibuya. Also, these are based on Fakeweeb video on Youtube where he explained what the Shibuya incident arc would be like if Toji was on our side. However, that video is based on him being resurrected from the Old Grandma Monk. I am mostly changing it for the sake of my AU and completely telling Post Shibuya through my eyes. A majority of these ideas are credited to Fakeweeb’s speculation and explanation for the Shibuya Arc. So if you’re interested, you can check out the video and see for yourself.

Shibuya Incident Arc Headcanons

Toji’s Role:

Okay, with the Shibuya Incident, there are some major differences that will need a lot of explaining so bear with me on this.

First is addressed is deaths. Because Toji is both alive and an ally, many deaths and injuries would have been prevented/non-existed. Like Nanami, Nanako, Mimiko, Nobara if you want, civilians, etc. They will live and their condition isn’t bad because of the changed circumstances. Toji would have prevented Nanami, Maki, and even Naobito from getting burnt by Jogo. Prevented Todo from losing his hand.

Second, certain events will either have different fighters, outcomes, or not exist at all. With Toji entering as an ally, his support and actions will cause certain events to change or not happen at all such as the Toji vs Megumi fight that never even happened. To which it also means that Sukuna doesn’t get resurrected because Jogo doesn’t find Yuuji and feed him Sukuna’s 10 other fingers nor does Nanako and Mimiko feed a finger to an unconscious Yuji. Meaning the two girls don’t die when Sukuna awakens. This would mean that Megumi never summoned Mahoraga in the first place nor did Jogo fight Sukuna.

So essentially, Toji pulls up to Shibuya and finds a black sphere in the middle of one of the subway stations. And since Toji has no curse energy, he could just walk right into the Domain but he sees a little hole opening up and decides to invite himself to the battle. The next thing he knows, he is surrounded by Megumi, Maki, Nanami, and Naobito as they struggle against Dagon. Toji just has this blank stare, not looking at anyone but he does wink at Megumi. He just goes up to Maki, snatches Playful Cloud from her, and just walks deeper into the Domain. Naobito has some flashbacks, Nanami gives a questioning glare, and Maki looks back at Megumi like, “Yo Megumi, isn’t that your Dad? What’s he doing?” and Megumi is just like “You’re asking me? I didn’t even know he still fights.”

This is the moment he realizes how leagues above his dad in terms of raw strength and power. He couldn’t fathom that his two teachers, revered as the two strongest in all of the Jujutsu World, were beaten by him. Even Gojo at one point was killed by his dad, but he could never believe it because his dad had no curse technique whatsoever. But seeing Toji fight Dagon in their own domain, overwhelming them, and straight up dawging him with raw brute strength, Megumi finally starts to understand why his dad was notoriously feared throughout the Jujutsu World. That if it wasn’t Reader/you, he would have completely changed the trajectory of the Jujutsu World/Society.

It was also the same moment Megumi understood how both of his parents are viewed in Jujutsu Society. His father, a curseless human, is notoriously known as a useless human with raw power that terrorized sorcerers alike, even defeating two special-grade sorcerers. His mother, however, was revered throughout Jujutsu Society(minus the Elders/Higher-ups) for her technique/ability, being the teachers of some of the most powerful sorcerers, and seemingly taming his infamously famous father that was a threat to Jujutsu Society itself. It seems like opposites attract on the surface but Megumi knows his parents are similar to each other than many make it out to be.

Anyway, after Toji’s absolute domination and straight up obliterating Dagon, Megumi starts interrogating his dad. Why was he here? Where were you? Were you safe? Was Tsumiki safe? The boy, for the first time, was a little vulnerable around others. Toji grins at Megumi before ruffling his hair, saying something along the lines of,

“Your sister is safe, your mom made sure. Speaking of her, she’s somewhere in Shibuya right now. Don’t know where cause we split up at the train station. Your mom will be fine on her own.”

But it didn’t explain why Toji was here in the first place. Before Megumi can question Toji’s presence in Shibuya, Naobito beats the unofficial Zen’in to it.

“You got guts to come here, Toji. Remember, you coming here with weapons and not accompanied by (Y/N), that both you and her will be executed? I thought you were a much more cautious person than that. Didn’t 12 years do anything to change you?” Naobito pompously spoke, a slight undertone of mockery laced in it.

However, the pompous arrogance was meant to cloak the sheer fear and unease that erupted in his body when Toji came into battle. Toji all but scoffs at the Zen’in clan head. He tosses Playful Cloud back to Maki, telling her to keep it because it will help her out later on when she has “broken all of her chains”. Whatever that means, Maki thought.

Just as Toji was going to explain to Megumi about your intentions, Jogo decides to invite himself to the party and starts spewing out lava from his mini-volcanos. For the sake of plot and creating balance, Maki and Naobito still get burnt. Maki still lives and isn’t as burned as in the canon timeline. Naobito, however, is more heavily injured than Maki that Naoya takes up the clan head position as his father is out of commission. Nanami, on the other hand, doesn’t get burnt because Toji and Megumi decide to team up against Jogo. Saving Nanami from getting severely burnt. Toji told Megumi and Nanami to get the two burnt victims as he deals with Jogo.

Jogo was a challenge to deal with for Toji because the man didn’t want to get burned. But with Celestial Restriction, Toji absolutely murdered Jogo just like he did with Dagon. The man simply overwhelmed the disaster curse with lighting speed and brutal blitz of a smack down. He obliterated him before Jogocould pull a fast one on him and use his domain expansion or special move. Toji pulls out the Inverted Spear from his new inventory curse and slices Jogo’s head off while also slicing his body into pieces.

Toji came out with minimal injuries, probably a few scratches(lowkey wished they were your scratches on his back) and some cuts but he is unfazed by it. Anyway, he wandered around Shibuya. Cutting down any curses that get in his way with the Soul Splitting Katana.

Then, he runs into Manhito. Because of Toji’s Celestial Restriction, Manhito can’t one-shot him with idle transfiguration. Manhito puts up a good fight with Toji and was able to hold himself up for quite some time. However, once again, Toji got that dawg in himself and manhandled Manhito to the point that Manhito starts running away while Toji just follows him walking.

Before Toji could even get the chance to near Manhito, the damn curse decides to transform to his awakened potential. Toji does get frustrated at this and decides to pull out Soul Splitting Katana out to finish him off. Then Kenjaku arrives like, “What do we have here? A fucking monkey? That’s no good, come here Manhito.” Then Manhito gets absorbed into one of Kenjaku’s talismans.

Toji would go after Kenjaku if he wasn’t bombarded by his curses that he released from his talisman. Then back-up arrives, the kyoto gang with Utahime and Kusakabe, Todo and Yuki just jump into the battle, and Choso somehow switches sides. Then not even a minute later, Megumi, Maki, and Nanami pop in to join. Everyone was duking Kenjaku curses and Uraume entered the fray. Kenjaku ends up sustaining injuries so he abandons Uraume and flees. Not before leaving a party gift, two curses that have so much concentrated curse energy that they exploded and created two massive craters in Shibuya.

Kenjaku escapes and so does Uraume. Leaving the exhausted sorcerers a bit defeated and frustrated.

Reader’s role:

So let’s get to Reader’s role in all of this because You, my friend, are gonna go off those hinges.

So Reader knows what will happen in Shibuya will make or break Jujutsu Society. She also has a gut feeling that the higher-ups would use this event as a way to get away with certain decisions. Such as resuming Yuuji’s execution, leaving sorcerers for dead, not helping at all, etc. To which she was unfortunately right in the end.

As a result, You start to do some of your own scheming of your own. Mostly consisting of getting Toji on the battlefield and helping the others out. While Toji has done some missions for the Jujutsu world, it was mostly out of obligation from you and for the FAT JUICY paycheck he receives when he’s done with the job.

He’s not affiliated with the Jujutsu World and never has acknowledged as much from the higher-ups. Toji is still under restrictions that were set up for him, so the higher-ups said that if Toji participates in Shibuya, you and him will be executed. But after You find out Megumi is a part of the lineup on top of your suspicions, you decide to throw caution to the wind and say fuck them shitty highers ups and those willings to lick their fucking boots.

You knew you’ll be left for dead or purposely killed so the higher up wouldn’t have to deal with you. You were always well aware that the higher ups kept you around for so long because they wanted to use you in any way they could. If only they knew you were just letting them have their fun. Either way, by the end of Shibuya, you would be labeled as a criminal and a fugitive by them just because they had no use for you anymore. So you might as well go all out and have fun.

So you retrieve and unseal the Soul Splitting Katana and the Inverted Soul Spear for Toji to use. Mind you, these weapons have been sealed away for the past 12 years. And the only ones that knew about their location were You, Gojo, Yuta, Yuki, Yaga, Maho, and the Higher ups. However, the higher ups don’t have access to the weapons, they just only know where they are. Anyway, Reader decides to bring them out of retirement because no one else is going to use them or knows how to properly use them unlike Toji. And since Toji was the last owner, she was going to give them back to him while finding a substitute inventory curse to hold the weapons.

You lie and say that you will provide backup if things start to go bad. But the reality is, you went to retrieve the weapons that give Satoru and Suguru PTSD. You are well aware that what you are doing will make you a criminal in the eyes of Jujutsu Society. Letting the sorcerer killer out by himself with the same weapons he used to wreak havoc 12 years ago, the same ones that were supposed to be sealed and hidden away from the Jujutsu public. But you made that choice to not fight for Jujutsu Society a long time ago. You only came back for the sake of cultivating a powerful generation with massive potential to fight against the frauds that see themselves as high and mighty.

You snuck out and retrieved the weapons and came back to Toji, wondering why you were carrying two big black suitcases.

“What's with the suitcases, Hon? You're gonna pack up and get cold feet~?” Toji jokes as he eyes the two black briefcases at your side. He, however, doesn’t address your steel grip on the handles of them.

“Me and running away? Who do you think of me as a coward, Dear? Nah, I just brought back some things to make the playing field a bit more fun for you. Thank me later, Toji.” With that, you slide the briefcases towards his direction.

Toji raises a brow, you never call him by his first name, especially with such monotone. But the underlying firmness gives him a hint as he picks up one of the cases and opens it. The wide eyes and lifted brows, an expression Toji rarely puts on his face. He pulls out the Inverted Soul Spear while dropping its briefcase, not caring if it dented the floor.

“Doll. . . How did you get your hands on this. . .? I thought that Gojo brat destroyed it 12 years ago. . .”

He was still in disbelief, observing what he believed was his non-existence long-forgotten special grade curse weapon. But now, here it is in perfect condition. Without a second thought, he rips open the other case to find his other weapon, the Soul Splitting Katana. Toji was in awe to see his two special grade weapons, back in his hands again after years being hidden away.

“You said these were long gone. . . One was completely destroyed and the other was hidden in Hokkaido. What gives, (Y/N)?”

You just sighed with a smirk, crossing your arms as you shift your weight to one half of your body.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, Honey. It was so the higher ups would get off my ass and leave us alone. Those old geezers didn’t have access to them. They just knew their locations. Plus I threatened Satoru into keeping the Spear. Just officially saying it was dismantled in the records but that’s about it.”

“Never pegged you to be such a liar, (Y/N).”

“Lying isn’t it, my love. I was just manipulating the truth.”

You walk to the kitchen table and throw the sack that was sitting on it towards your husband, who catches it with ease while still holding his weapons. He stares at it before looking back at you with a confused look. You grinned playfully at your husband as you leaned on the table. An unsettling mischievous glint in your eyes sends a small chill throughout his being.

“Gear up, Toji. Let’s take a nightly stroll into Shibuya, shall we~?”

After traveling to the Shibuya district, Reader tells Toji they could cover more ground if they split up. She also tells Toji that if he finds Megumi to help and protect him no matter what. Toji gives a quick kiss before going in the other direction.

Reader wanders around the deserted subway systems before she ends up finding Yuji passed out by one of the public restrooms completely unconscious. By the look of his injuries, he was hurt pretty badly. Just as she was about to carry him to Shoko’s tent, Mimiko and Nanako were running through the station and stopped when you called out to them.

It was then you found out not only was Gojo sealed in the Prison Realm cube, but Geto as well. That could explain Mimiko tearing up with small sniffles while Nanako was holding her tears in with her lip quivering, confirming what her sister said. While comforting the girls the best you can, you asked them to take Yuji to Shoko’s tent for you so you can continue helping your allies.

After the twins leave with Itadori, you continue to roam Shibuya and run into Haruta. Haruta tries to make quick work of you but you wouldn’t let it slide. So with your curse technique/ability, you killed Haruta without a second thought. You cringed at the blood that splashed on your face and wiped it off with annoyance.

Then Reader gets a call from Yuta, saying that he’s coming back today to help in Shibuya. You informed him of what happened and to be careful of the curses that flood the streets.

Reader does some crowd control and meets with Inumaki to help. While helping Inumaki, Reader has to take care of a big curse before it can do anything. She would have landed a curse technique on if it were not for the nails that stabbed one of its arms and blackish-red flashed by. It was motherfucking Todo and Nobara, a surprising duo.

As the four of you just continue to be curse exterminators, a loud bang erupted throughout the district causing small tremors to happen. You tell Nobara to stay with Inumaki while Todo and you go to where all the real chaos takes place. Todo goes ahead while you are making sure no one else is lying in the streets dead.

Before you could even get to the battlefield, two big explosions blinded and prevented you from getting any closer. Once the explosions cleared up, you hop down to the battlefield seeing everyone tired and frustrated.

You then inform them that both Gojo and Geto got sealed into the Prison Realm together and need to free them as soon as possible since Kenjaku has a full potential Manhito on hand.

Shibuya Incident Summary:

Gojo and Geto get sealed away in the prison realm together because of Kenjaku and using the civilians as bait.

Nobara, Nanami, Nanako, Mimiko, and I guess Naobito survive for now. There aren’t that many casualties as many would assume.

Sukuna doesn’t get revived or eat any of his fingers. So he doesn’t fight Jogo at all nor gets resurrected.

Megumi never summons Mahoraga and isn’t as injured. So Sukuna vs Mahoraga doesn’t happen at all, creating way less casualties.

Todo doesn’t lose his hand and Inumaki keeps his arm.

Yuji doesn’t continue fighting after his battle with Choso and is taken by the twins after Reader comes across his unconscious body by the bathrooms.

Reader starts to break her filters and go against the Higher Ups by bringing back the Soul Splitting Katana and Inverted Spear with a new inventory curse for Toji to use in Shibuya. You also gear up and go to Shibuya even though the Higher-ups were highly against it. Oops

After dropping off Tsumiki at Jujutsu high with Kuroi, Riko, and Haibara, you and Toji make way to Shibuya.

You two split up to cover more of the district.

Toji unleashing the absolute dawg in him and fucked up anyone that faces him in Shibuya.

Toji finds Dagon’s domain and jumps through Megumi’s portal he made. Absolutely murdering Dagon with just Playful Cloud. Maki and Naobito get burned by Jogo and Togi tells Megumi to take them and book it.

Toji battles with Jogo and ends up giving him the slice and dice special.

Toji fights and chases Manhito. Manhito gets saved by Kenjaku when he reached peak potential.

Kenjaku releases a bunch of curses to overwhelm Toji but the cavalry arrives. They fight Kenjaku while dealing with his curses and Uraume.

Reader fights alongside Inumaki, then gets back up from Todo and Nobara. See the Kenjaku fight and Todo and you go towards the action. Leaving Inumaki and Nobara.

Reader was almost there to join but got stopped when Kenjaku used his explosion curses to escape.

Reader joins up with the sorcerers and your son and Toji.

You tell the group about Gojo and Geto’s situation and it would be best to regroup.

Post Shibuya Arc Headcanons:

So everyone is recovering and healing up from Shibuya. But after what happened in Shibuya, the Highers up decided to play a game for the worst support system.

Once they announced that Gojo and Geto are fugitives/criminals. And if anyone tries to set them free will be put on trial or executed because they said it was illegal to free them. You’know, two of the most powerful sorcerers in the world, even though they’re needed more than ever.

Not only that, they also announced that all the suspended executions would resume.

Which means Yuji’s execution will be carried out, but that also includes Yuta, Yaga, You, and Toji. You and Toji could care less because who the hell is gonna stop and kill the both of you? Tokyo is in shambles right now, curses roaming the streets, Shibuya completely dead, fellow sorcerers are injured or out of commission, there is no order in the Jujutsu Society. So why bother listening to the Higher-ups/Elders if they won’t do anything or just make things harder for everyone else?

When Megumi hears about it, he is so concerned for you and his dad. His parents are being targeted and killed on-sight even though they literally helped and saved many of the sorcerers in Shibuya. He feared for Toji and your demise, leaving him with Tsumiki with their parents. But you reassured your son that you will not be striked down so easily. Plus with Toji’s original weapons minus his “Chain of a Thousand Miles”, he pretty much is unbeatable right now.

Megumi thought his dad stopped fighting, to which Toji tells Megumi that he goes on missions when he and Tsumiki are at school. He finishes his missions right before they come home from school so Megumi and Tsumiki never guessed it. Megumi heard his dad going on missions, but he thought he went with you on some intel and retrieval mission. But after seeing Toji fight in Shibuya, he reconsiders his assumptions and believes the two of you white lied to him and Tsumiki to not get them in trouble from the Jujutsu World, especially Megumi.

Anyway, you kiss your son on his head while Toji just gives him a soft head pat. You tell him that you and Toji have to meet someone in order to discuss what to do next. Telling him to rest up as the two of you head out, leaving your son worried.

You talk with Yaga and the other sorcerers that are still there or have recovered. Meaning Mei Mei is out of the picture. There are talks about freeing Gojo and Geto, Kenjaku’s whereabouts and motives, and what to do next. Since there are not many of you to begin with, you suggest finding a way to free Gojo and Geto while trying to deal with Kenjaku.

Yaga said finding Kenjaku wouldn’t be hard since the veils are still up in Shibuya and other parts of Tokyo. They were set up for something called the Culling Games.

Kusakabe butts in and says that it’s illegal to free the two sorcerers. Also saying that You shouldn’t be saying much since your execution was announced. Toji would’ve done something if it wasn't for your mood change. The way your eyes showed a nonchalant yet tenacious aura.

“Since when did you start dick-riding the higher ups, Kusakabe? Hmm? I didn’t know you’ve become a boot-licker to the same people who aren’t batting an eye that we just lost our most powerful people. You gonna let those old geezers continue to keep the strong out just so they could stay in power until they bite the dust? *laughs* I’m not surprised it’s coming from you, Atsuya. Those old dementia patients just want to kill the strong off because they knew that either me, Gojo, Geto, or Yuta would kill them with no hesitation.” Kusakabe glares at you while baring his teeth. “Oh? Did I hit a soft spot for you, Atsuya? If you’re thinking about killing me or my husband, forget it. You don’t want to fight my husband unless you wanna die that badly. And let me remind you what happened a year ago when I mopped the floor with you even though I didn’t even activate my technique? Just drop it, Atsuya.”

With that, you told Yaga you had some unfinished business to attend to and left the room.

Toji was so turned on by you telling off Kusakabe but you said now is not the time for a quickie.

You knew Kusakabe was a good sorcerer and ally. But after Shibuya and him seemingly siding with those losers, it somewhat pissed you off.

You have come to find out that after Yuji recovered, he went back out and Yuta attacked him. He apparently murdered Yuji for the Higher-ups. But you knew Yuta was better than to be a Higher-up boot liker. I mean, this is literally the same student that shares the same ideals as Gojo himself. Yuta wouldn’t do them any favors unless it’s to get them off his tail.

So you run into Yuta, who has a very much alive Yuji, and a healed but scarred Maki. Your assumption was right as Yuta just faked Yuji’s death so he would be labeled as dead in order for the Higher-ups to ease up a bit.

Then Maki goes up to Toji and asks him to come with her to the Zen’in clan’s main residence. She said she needed to take more curse tools for her and the other sorcerers to use. Toji looked at her and said maybe he would help but it seems like she got it. Then Maki left to face off against the Zen’in clan.

Toji asked if he should’ve gone with her just to toss around against his shitty family.

However, you were against it. It is cruel to say and think, you told Toji to let Maki go off on her own at first to see what happens to her and Mai. Since Twins are looked down upon in Jujutsu Society because the curse energy is split into two, it meant that both wouldn’t unlock their true potential or full technique/ability. In a way, it symbolizes that the twins hold each other back from each other’s curse technique and energy.

So if Mai dies, it means that Maki could unlock her true celestial restriction and understand what it means to possess it in its fullest form.

You also told Toji that the Zen’in clan took the “‘Chain of a Thousand Miles”, and stash it in their inventory instead of sealing it away with the Inverted Spear or the Soul Splitting Katana. So when goes after Maki, he steals back his chains. It was a couple hours since Maki left and Toji left to go get her. But first, he needed to find his old chains in the Zen’in clan’s curse tool vault.

He went in undetected and swiftly killed anyone who tried to sound the alarm of his presence. Once he got his old chains back, he strolled along to find out where Maki was. He didn’t know where to look until he saw her fighting against some of the clan members. Toji smirks, wanting to join in on the fun.

Toji starts to fight off some of the Zen’in clan members, killing them along the way. Since he needed more range, he used the chains for better crowd control and more reach. Then the Hei shows up and low and behold Naoya appears. He states that he’s the new clan head since Naobito passed away from his injuries. Naoya was boasting about going Mach 5 speed and Maki simply can’t keep up with him.

Maki and Toji exchange glances at what the hell Naoya was talking about being the Clan Head. Maki thought Megumi would be the next head, is what she was told by both Megumi and Naobito himself.

Toji: “Yo Brat, you’re not the Head of the Zen’in Clan. My boy is, get your head out of your ass.”

Naoya thought he was up there with you, Toji, and Gojo for the strongest and powerful. More so, Toji as he sort of idolizes him heavily.

He really thought he was “I’m Him” for a good moment.

But alas, Naoya couldn’t beat the fraud allegations and got absolutely washed by Maki. With Maki’s newly awakened Celestial restriction, she was opened to a full power she only could’ve dreamed of. Now she has it for herself, a second Celestial Restriction user w/no curse energy at all.

Because Maki was the real “I’m Him” since she'll be on par with Toji himself.

Toji had this sense of pride that Maki has unlocked her true restriction, now she can absolutely body people AND curses. She can now see them and doesn't rely on her glasses anymore.

Then the two worked on killing the rest of the Zen’in clan off. When you heard that the Kamo and Gojo clan petitioned to have the Zen’in clan be removed from the three great families, you were so happy that you wanted to pop a champagne bottle.

However, you did feel bad that Maki had to lose her sister. The last of Mai’s curse energy went into making an exact replica of Soul Splitting Katana. Dragon-Bone and the replica became Maki’s only weapons. The rest of the Zen’in clan’s curse tools were either given to Jujutsu High or the other two families. You told her that nothing is stopping them and you all can rise up and fight against the system now. Pretty much everyone either hates the Higher-ups or is willing to go against them.

You were devastated hearing about Yaga’s death at the hands of the Kyoto principal. He was your dear friend, classmate, and sorcerer. It also messed you up that Maho was severely hurt and hasn’t woken from her coma. She was your best friend too, she and Yaga were in the same class together back in your earlier years.

With that, anything that happens after this point is fair game. You decided to participate in the Culling games because you needed to find the user that has the ability to free Gojo and Geto from the Prison Realm. That and find Hakari and Hoshi to see if they would strike a deal with you to help since your son was now the Head of the Zen’in Clan. Toji just goes wherever you go because, at this point, you’re his ride or die. And what better way to flex the most powerful couple in all of Jujutsu society with you, your Celestial Restriction Husband, your kind-hearted but strong-willed daughter, and your son who possesses a powerful Curse technique with limitless potential that is now the Head of the Zen’in Clan.

💙Thank you for reading!❤️

120 notes · View notes

kirarifutari · 1 year

Text

enhypen as fast food workers (enhypen ot7.)

GENRE .. !? enhypen ot7 headcanons i guess... pureee crack, comedy

WARNINGS .. !? not proof read, swearing, for shits and giggles don't take anything to heart lol

WC ..?! approx 852

NOTES.. ?! okay pls blame @dazed-hee for putting this thought into my head and helping me w this... i cannot believe i sat my ass down and wrote this,, yes i just got off work ... anyway i hope u enjoy this goofy little piece pls like + reblog to support!!

heeseung

actually does his job properly LOLLL

he's so good at it asw he is never ever stressed 😭😭 he never complains either he just gets shit done ?? like you'll be on shift w him and magically you don't have to do anything ever bc somehow he has it under control…?

all the customers love him asw LMAO he's the type to remember regulars 🙏

god sent everyone needs a heeseung to work with, he's even nice to the rude customers but is not afraid to be a little passive aggressive bitch 🤧

he never talks badly about anyone so no one ever shit talks him?? but if you ask him ab drama he'd be like “not naming any names but…” 😭

jay

he is exactly like heeseung except when is jay ever NOT stressed

he is internally crying every five seconds over something and every time a customer complains about something you can see the light in his eyes die little by little 💀💀

he doesn't even care what anyone else is doing he's just so caught up in doing his job he doesn't realise that he's doing everything himself… more utc!

if you catch him on a good day tho you can hear him make fun of customer orders 😭 “who the fuck orders 3 hamburgers past the age of three years old…”

let's you do whatever you want bc hes too busy dealing w the emerging grey hairs 🙏

jake

the best person to work your shift w for a good time hands downnn

he's so funny he will make you cackle every five seconds,, you'll be taking a drive thru order and you'd be trying so fucking hard not to laugh into the mic 😭 he will fr start SINGING in ur ear goodbye

super friendly w customers and will literally start a conversation ab the most random things ?? “bro did you just order this family box?? you eating that yourself? that's crazy, mad respect” 💀

dawg does everything all at once, making burgers, taking orders, handing out food, changing the bins ??? yet somehow he's the one goofing off the most ?

sunghoon

doesn't know how he landed the job tbh… everyone expected him to be unemployed the rest of his life 🔥

HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO COUNT CHANGE W CASH 😭 bro tries his hardest but is always fumbling around fr,, our maths legend

the type to be like “hm? i can't hear you” “what did you say? “yeah just gimme a minute” he is TOO CHILL he's so unserious ab this job he clocks on and does nothing half the time 🙏 he'll say he'll do what you ask him too but... you both know he won't xoxox

somehow he's still one of the managers favourites and gets good shifts every week…

if a customer yells at him he'd be like “yeah give me a second” and then just gets someone else to deal with it LMFAO 💀

sunoo

THE BIGGEST SHIT TALKER having a shift w him is so good, he somehow knows everything that's going on w everyone ??? fills you in w all the gossip fr.

he's rly bubbly w all the nice customers and is one of the nicer employees to work with but if ur on his bad side … 💀💀💀

like if you annoy him as a customer he will hand you order wordlessly and look you up and down HE DOESNT CAREEE BROOO 😭

if anyone ever blames him for doing something wrong on shift he literally will just be like “that wasn't me tho 😄😄” biggest liar and everyone knows it but no one cares cus we all love him 🫶

sunoo will definitely be the type to buy you food on his break or give you free stuff when you clock off 😭

jungwon

would be the biggest gas lighter LMFAO

“oh you ordered a double big mac and not a regular? yeah on our register it's gone through as regular so i don't know what you want me to do, you can pay for another one tho!” 💀💀💀💀

bro gives so much sass to rude customers he does NOT gaf, he does it all w a smile on his face too like “sorry about that but we can't do anything to fix it 😊”

he’d be so chill w his co workers asw, he would really care if everyone's messing around but somehow w him on shift everything goes oddly smoothly…

working w him is so fucking funny cus he will never take no for an answer w a customer he will keep pushing until they LEAVE 😭

niki

LMFAOOO okay this kid fucking hates his job LOL

will spit in a customers drink because he can 🙏 he will not take shit from anyone and he knows no one will fire him bc they're understaffed 😚

plays the best music and always has kitchen speaker aux !!!

if you ask him to remake a burger or help you with something he'll either give you a blank stare or a “no, i won't.” and then do it for you anyway 👊👊 he is such a little menace but he doesn't care

w annoying ass customers he will literally start arguing w them STOP

would go viral on tiktok cus some customer was filming him being rude but everyone would be siding w him bc niki is always in the right godbless.

#ser writes !#enhypen x reader #enhypen ot7 #enhypen #niki x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #heeseung x reader #sunoo x reader #jay x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #im past the point of caring this is too funny to me #yes i work at a fast food joint and yes i hate my job

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rafebarrysmut · 6 months

Text

“Did you just bite me?”

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Barry (Outer Banks)

Summary: their first time and it's hate sex (based on the requests I got, thanks lovely anon and @obx-for-life )

This takes place in season 2, post-betrayal, when Rafe has just watched his father's confession video and had that fight with Sarah. The alcohol won’t help and he needs something stronger to numb those emotions and the screaming voices inside his head. So he ends up at Barry's. Naturally.

Warning: minors dni. Rafebarry smut. Explicit language. Top!Barry x Bottom!Rafe, Virgin!Rafe, some canon-typical violence, mentions of Ward's (fake) suicide, biting, crying, lots of whimpering, Rafe tries to be dominant. And gets railed. Barry's pov. This is almost 3.5k words. holy fuck.

Fuck, Rafe Cameron was the last person Barry expected to see showing up on his porch that day.

When he heard the dirt bike approaching, Barry looked up from the worn copy of The Crying of Lot 49 he was reading, frowning as he saw Rafe coming to a halt, getting off his bike, literally throwing his helmet at the trailer. Barry mumbled a curse when the boy came stomping towards him. Of course, Barry had heard the news about Ward Cameron and he'd guessed that they would have to let Rafe go with his father taking the blame for Peterkin's murder. And he had expected the boy to be angry at Barry for ratting him out, but he sure hadn't expected him to come running to him that same day.

Barry closed his book, put it to the side, about to get up and greet Rafe with a casual but tense grin, when Rafe kicked at the coffee table causing it to topple over.

“Hey!” Barry jumped to his feet.

Rafe was quick, both his hands grabbing for the collar of Barry's shirt.

“Easy there, dawg.” Barry was alert, but cautious. He had lifted his hands but didn't touch Rafe, just looked him straight into the eyes. “Sure this is upsetting and all, but you might wanna calm down.” Barry's voice was low, but firm.

Rafe's hands fisted around the fabric, white knuckles showing. His jaws clenched as he glared down at the older male. Every muscle in his body seemed tensed up, Barry could feel it, see it.

“I'm gonna end you,” Rafe muttered between gritted teeth. Barry could smell the stench of liquor in the boy's breath. He could see the tears in his bloodshot eyes.

The boy was fucked up, like really fucked up. And by now Barry knew that Ward Cameron was to blame for the most part of that. Barry didn't feel sorry for Rafe, but he understood what it was like to be fucked up like this by your own parent. And though Ward might have saved Rafe from going to jail by taking his own life, he had literally torn that messed up boy to pieces by doing so. Barry had gotten to know Rafe in all kinds of stages of messed up. This was beyond.

He tried to stay calm, still assessing the situation, and part of him was also curious why Rafe had gotten all the way into the cut to take out his revenge on Barry on this day. But with Rafe, there was no reason – at least not the kind of reason other people understood, that boy acted on impulse only. Or something else. Some completely messed up logic of his fucked up mind.

“This is on you,” Rafe hissed. “If you hadn't turned me in, he wouldn't – this is all your fault.”

Rafe's voice grew louder and he shook Barry.

“This is all your fault,” Rafe was practically fuming now, pushing Barry back, who stood his ground.

Rafe's hand reached for Barry's throat, but Barry was quicker. Grabbing both the boy's wrists, freeing himself from the grip, he pushed Rafe back, his chest colliding with his.

There was a moment of surprise in Rafe's widened eyes, then the anger kicked in. He growled and fought Barry's grip, fought him fiercely and blindly. His body urging against Barry's, shoving him backwards with such force that Barry stumbled and lost his balance when hitting the edge of the couch with the backs of his legs.

“Fuck,” Barry cussed, trying to stop his fall, and in doing so, he let go of one of Rafe's wrists, who used the momentum to land a punch at the other's face, hitting his jaw.

Barry’s back hit the worn-out couch and Rafe was on top of him. But not for long. Barry lost his patience and fought back. They tumbled off the couch, landed on the ground. Barry tried to get a hold of Rafe's hands, tried to pin him down, but the boy was writhing below him now, wriggling out of his grip and attacking Barry. A fist hit Barry's rips. A knee kicked at his stomach, missed, but made Barry lose the upper hand again. Barry had not only lost his patience with this boy, he felt his own rage now driving him on. Punching, hitting, gripping, tugging, they rolled along the floor of Barry's porch, hitting furniture and scattered empty cans. The sounds of furniture being shoved, fists hitting, bodies colliding, mixed with groans and heavy panting as they engaged in this fierce, very physical fight.

“Fuck!” Barry cried out when a sharp pain hit his shoulder.

Rafe was on top of him with one of his arms twisted behind his back, Barry had wrongly believed to have the upper hand in that moment.

“Did you just bite me? You fucking crazy,” Barry couldn't hide the surprise in his voice, when he grabbed Rafe's hair, pulling him up a bit, so he could look into his face – and see the boy look at him, his lips parted, blood dripping from his mouth and Barry was unsure whose it was.

“You crazy bitch…” He gazed up at Rafe, who looked straight into his eyes. Something so fierce and wild in those blue ones. Barry heard his own raspy breathing, felt his chest rise and fall. They'd suddenly stopped their fight but that hot rage was anything but gone.

Barry’s hand grabbed Rafe's jaw, which made the boy gasp, those eyes widened even more, pupils dilating. And then, as if remembering they were in a fight, he pulled at that hand, tried to free his face, and Barry's finger slid between those bloodstained lips. And he felt the soft wetness of his tongue and those lips closing around it, and he pushed the digit deeper and saw Rafe's eyes rolling back in his head, and a surge of something hotter than rage suddenly hit Barry's body. And for just a second it felt like Rafe's mouth was sucking on his finger and Barry's breathing hitched. And the next moment, sharp teeth sank into his finger. Barry growled, quickly pulling his finger out and smacking Rafe across the face, sending his head whipping back.

When Rafe moved his head back to look at him, something had changed in his expression. He looked surprised and tears were pooling in his blue eyes, and Barry couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Whereas Rafe had glared at him like a wild beast before, he now looked like a kitten, a sad kitten that seemed to be puzzled about what it had done wrong.

Barry quickly grabbed the back of the boy's neck as he felt him shift on him and pulled him close.

Rafe's hands were pressed to the floor on either side of Barry's head and he was struggling to keep himself up like this with his face only inches away from the other's.

Barry felt the body above him trembling and he knew that it wasn't just from the exhaustion.

He pulled him closer. Rafe still fought his grip, struggling to push himself up. Heated puffs of air hitting his face.

Barry felt the warm breath on his face. Those full lips opened. Those eyes flickered. Barry noticed how they moved to his mouth. He grinned. Those eyes met his again. Rafe's panting grew more rapidly. Those eyelids fluttered shut and Barry lifted his head, just an inch, and his lips met those soft lips of Rafe.

He felt the boy freeze, then struggling to push away, but he wouldn't let him. His other arm wrapped around his body and he pulled him closer, pulled him flush against his body, as his lips moved against those too soft lips, hungrily kissing, tasting blood.

As he felt Rafe opening his mouth, a whimper escaping his lips, Barry pushed his tongue inside his mouth – despite the risk of those sharp teeth biting at it. But Rafe gave up his resistance, finally giving into what Barry had noticed the boy had wanted all along.

It wasn't unusual to get aroused from fighting, with all that heat and bodies so intimately colliding. But the way Rafe now kissed him back, Barry knew that this was something else, this was a hunger much deeper, much darker.

Rafe began shifting his body on Barry's. His hands suddenly eager to grab and tug. One hand gripped Barry's throat and Barry groaned in response, his hips buckling up, meeting Rafe's who was straddling him, making the boy feel how hard he was.

The grip around Barry's throat tightened as the kiss got more heated, with tongues fighting for dominance and teeth not just teasing, but biting hungrily.

Barry's hand grabbed for Rafe's ass, grabbed hard at the firm flesh, and he almost expected the boy to withdraw, but all he did was whimper.

The kiss got sloppy and breathless, both were so riled up that this was by far not enough to satisfy their hunger.

Rafe's hand closed tighter around Barry's throat, by now making it harder and harder to breathe. Barry tensed up and with a sudden motion pushed Rafe off of him. Sitting up, his hand went to his throat where Rafe had surely left marks. He narrowed his eyes, his breathing still strained.

And Rafe, sitting on the ground in front of him, gazed at him with those eyes, and he looked as if he had been slapped again.

“You're crazy, baby boy,” Barry's voice was hoarse, but he chuckled and shook his head in amusement.

Rafe sat there, panting, and slightly trembling. His wet lips parted, they looked swollen from the angry kiss. His blue eyes moved over Barry's body and his expression was this strange mixture of puzzlement, anger, and hurt. And something else.

Barry had his eyes on the boy as he moved cautiously, as if not to scare him. Slowly, he took off his own shirt. Rafe's eyes were immediately drawn to his abs.

Barry waited, but Rafe didn't seem to pick up on the invitation to do the same, but just bit his lips as his eyes wandered over Barry's muscular torso.

Slowly, very slowly Barry pulled down his shorts, just enough to show his cock's pink tip.

Grinning, he noticed how Rafe wetted his lips.

Barry leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, he looked at Rafe, tilting his head.

And there it was again, that strange look in the boy's face. He was nibbling on his finger and his eyes flickered wildly about.

The muscles in Barry's stomach twitched.

“This your first time, hm?” A mocking tone in Barry's voice.

“It's not,” Rafe was quick to respond and shot him an angry glare – and right then Barry knew that Rafe not only never tasted cock before, but that he was in fact still a virgin. – And it was like those months ago, their current interaction mirroring the first time Barry had offered Rafe coke, who took it with that angry tone lying when stating that it wasn't his first time – just like now.

Barry lifted his hips slightly to help Rafe pull down his shorts completely, who did so hastily.

As if trying to prove that he was in fact used to giving blowjobs regularly, Rafe gripped the base of Barry's cock, propped it up to guide it to his opened mouth as he leaned down, kneeling next to Barry. Without hesitation Rafe took the tip between his lips and began sucking, making Barry hiss a curse and clench his fists. But the next second, Rafe pulled back, his face contorted, rubbing his lips that he was licking frantically, obviously appalled by the bitter taste of Barry's precum. But at the same time, he just couldn't take his hands of that thick cock in his hand. His other hand rested on Barry's thigh and his nails dug into its flesh as he tried again. Rafe closed his eyes, the curtains of his hair almost hiding that pretty face and the tears running down his cheeks, as he opened his mouth further to take more of that fat cock in. The warm tongue pressed against the slit and Barry gasped. Spit was running down Rafe's chin and drooling onto Barry. Rafe had given up on the sucking, but began moving his head up and down, his lips tight around the thick cock. His mouth clenching around it. He didn't get much more than an inch in when he was already gagging.

It was messy, it was sloppy, and quite frankly, it was the worst blowjob Barry had ever received. It was perfect.

Barry was breathing hard, his cock throbbing and glistening with Rafe's drool, as Rafe was coughing heavily, his cheeks flushed, tears running down his face, drool covering his chin. While the boy was trying to compose himself, trying to make that coughing stop and probably contemplating about whether it was worth giving it another try, Barry sat up, grabbed that pretty face and kissed those quivering red lips.

Rafe was quick to stop him, push him away, still fighting to regain his breath. And Barry chuckled when blue eyes darted at him, ready to kill.

Barry wanted to wrap his arms around him and pull Rafe close to him and just kiss that frown, but Rafe pushed him back, so hard that Barry landed on his back again, looking up in surprise. But then he saw that Rafe undressed himself. Got rid off that grey shirt, his jeans and boxer briefs.

Fuck.

Barry inhaled and held his breath, because that boy was literally breathtakingly beautiful. His mouth watered as he saw his well-trained body, perfectly toned. And his cock must have been the most beautiful cock ever. Nice and smooth and big. Not as thick as Barry's, but huge as it was pressing against Rafe's flat stomach. Barry would've loved to suck it, but Rafe obviously had something else in mind.

He climbed on top of Barry, straddling him, sitting down on his hip.

Barry was about to grip the boy's hips, when Rafe slapped his hands away, then gripped his wrists to pin them next to Barry's head.

Hovering over him, his face close to Barry's, he spoke in a low voice.

“You don't move when I fuck you.”

Barry flashed a grin and he couldn't deny how hot it was that Rafe wanted to dominate him.

Only problem was that Rafe was obviously completely inexperienced. By now Barry suspected that he had never actually been intimate with anyone, neither girl nor guy, and only got his knowledge from watching porn clips probably.

Rafe let go off Barry's wrists when the latter stopped moving as demanded.

He sat up and reached behind himself to grab Barry's cock. Barry felt it throbbing as those eager hands tried to position it.

Rafe bit his lips, concentrating as he lifted his hips a bit.

The wet tip poked against his firm cheek, brushed along the crack, then touched that sensitive muscle and Rafe winced.

He let out a long breath, his brows furrowing, his mouth opening wider and wider as the tip pushed against his tight entrance. Barry felt it flinching and he growled as he almost lost it.

Rafe’s body was tensing up and Barry could see his erection faltering as he desperately tried what seemed impossible. And Barry saw that Rafe was about to lose it.

In one swift motion, Barry sat up, wrapped his arms around Rafe and shut up his angry protests with a passionate kiss. Feeling skin on skin, the heat between their bodies grew into something fervent. Both being naked, their hunger for each other was no longer that desperate, but still as fierce.

Rafe's hands gripped and scratched whatever they could reach. And Barry just needed to hold and never let go.

Rafe moaned into Barry's mouth as he rocked his hips hard and needy against Barry's.

His fingers digging into Rafe's hair, Barry guided the younger's lips to his throat, flinching and groaning as those teeth scratched along the sensitive skin, already bruised by Rafe’s hands.

Barry tried hard to not just give in to his own needs – and Rafe's urging. His breathing got more strained as he felt Rafe's hard length between their bodies.

He spit on his own fingers and rubbed them between Rafe's ass cheeks. His fingertip was greeted with a whimper – and teeth digging into his shoulder as he slowly pushed inside, carefully trying to stretch the tight ring. More spit and he pushed deeper. Rafe's legs wrapped around him and his fingernails dug into his back. The boy whined as Barry curled his finger inside him.

Barry gasped as he felt his own cock aching with jealousy.

Rafe felt so incredibly soft inside, smooth like silk. And was so tight that it was hard to push his finger deeper. But the sounds Rafe made were everything. Barry felt that whimpering tighten his own balls.

He exhaled, held Rafe closer to his body, feeling his rapid heartbeat, hearing his whining words that made no sense at all.

Originally, Barry just meant to prepare him, so he could fuck Rafe thoroughly, but the boy's reactions to being fucked by just one finger drove him outright crazy.

There he was, Rafe Cameron, sitting on his lap, arms and legs wrapped around him, shaking, whining, whimpering and trembling as he got fucked by a finger. The angry crazy boy who tried to kill him moments ago, always so commanding and trying to dominate, became a whimpering mess as the tip of Barry's finger again and again hit that one sweet spot inside him, making his body convulse, making him moan and roll his eyes back as he let his head drop back and come completely undone, spilling ropes of hot cum on his own and Barry's stomach.

All tension gone, Rafe had gone limp in Barry's arms. His cheek pressed against the other's shoulder, he breathed in and out through his mouth.

Barry caressed his head, then stopped himself when he realized what he was doing.

And it seemed it was the same moment that Rafe came down from his high and was forced back into the harsh reality.

“Fuck you! This wasn't what I wanted!” Some of his anger seemed to have returned already when he was still shaking. He shoved at Barry's chest and climbed off him.

His legs trembling when he kneeled and collected his clothes, apparently wanting to leave.

Barry growled. Sometimes he wondered why he even put up with this crazy son of a bitch.

Rafe had turned his back towards Barry, kneeling as he put on his shirt, his back covered in a film of sweat. His perky ass right in front of Barry. He could clearly see that glowing redness between those perfect white cheeks.

“Don't think we're done yet,” Barry growled into Rafe's ear, his arms wrapped around the boy, pressing his body flush against the boy's back, making him feel his neglected rock-hard cock urging against his ass.

Rafe didn't even manage to utter his angry protest as he was pushed forward on his fours. His breathing quickened and when Barry grabbed Rafe's cock, he felt it grow hard almost in an instant.

“So needy,” Barry chuckled.

He pushed Rafe's legs further apart as he positioned himself behind him. He saw the boy tremble with excitement as he ran his cock teasingly over his ass. He used some more spit and a lot of force, but he managed to push his thick cock into Rafe's tight ass, making the boy scream and then eliciting all those sweet sounds, those whimpers and whines and moans that drove him crazy.

At some point Rafe tried to move and meet Barry's thrusts, but he gave up soon, needing all his strength not to collapse as Barry fucked him, fucked him hard and ruthlessly, grabbed his hair and made his back arch, rearranged his guts and filled him so completely. Rafe clenched too hard, came too quickly, was too tight. And he was just perfect.

And Barry knew this was what Rafe really wanted. Being fucked into oblivion, being fucked so good that he even forgot his own name.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafebarry #rafe x barry #barry x rafe #barry #barry obx #rarry obx #outer banks #obx #obx fic #smut fic #drew starkey #rafe fic #fic #barry's pov #my stuff #gif #rafe

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