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#oh my GOD THIS TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG
braisedhoney · 7 months
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did someone ask for a leander voice claim? no?
how about a lore animatic? below the cut are some of my favorite frames <3 because some of them were way prettier than my finished works orz
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hakusins · 26 days
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WHITNEY COMFORT EV ENT !!!!!!! I FUCKING DID IT !!!!!!!!!!!!!
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sillyangstyimp · 2 years
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Aha so after like two weeks, I'm finally making a post about my Cuphead AU, The Devil's Deal. I meant to post about it way sooner, but I wanted to draw something to go with it, and that little drawing ended up taking two weeks (12 hours total) because I'm a procrastinator lmao
SO. The Devil's Deal mainly follows the game's main story, up to where the two boys face the Devil after collecting all the contracts. Instead of burning the contracts after the fight, they toss them in the fire before, which initiates the battle. During the fight, Cuphead's eye is heavily injured and Mugman is killed, but before Cuphead can reach him to resurrect him, the Devil basically snatches his soul out of the air and absorbs it??? (I don't know how it works don't ask.)
Because of this, Mugman can no longer be revived, and Cuphead snaps and kicks the Devil's ass. But before Cuphead can finish him off once and for all, the Devil proposes a deal to Cuphead. The Devil would bring Mugman back, and in return Cuphead continues working as a contract collector for him.
Cuphead accepts this deal, Mugman is resurrected, and Cuphead begins working for the Devil. But the more he works for him, the more distant he becomes, and almost dies a LOT (and gets lots of trauma! :D). Mugman becomes worried, and tried to find ways to free Cuphead from the Devil's clutches. He helps Chalice on DLC island by himself, and asks for Chalice's help to defeat the Devil once and for all.
Meanwhile, Cuphead meets others at the Casino, Wick and Fish, (the two on the left of the picture) two others his age also working in the Casino and becomes very good friends with them. But due to some circumstances (stuff I don't want to spoil yet), Wick and Fish attempt to run away from the Casino to another Isle, but Cuphead is ordered to kill them since they became runaway debtors.
More stuff happens after that but I'm not gonna spoil them yet (¬‿¬)
lmao Bendy is also gonna be in here as a side character because I'm emotionally attached to the little man but I didn't have space in the picture for him :-(
If you actually read all of that tysm!! I have a bunch of stuff planned for this AU, (and it's mainly angst lmao so I hope you like having your heart shatter into a million pieces). I hope you guys like it `(*>﹏<*)′
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dreamcast-official · 3 months
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huh.
#eli.txt#idk i think ive been slowly forgiving my sister for how deeply hurt i felt when she moved out bc now I Get It. like I Get It#when she moved out i was. 9. and in my head i thought she had left because of me. because i wasnt the easiest kid in the world and i know-#-she had a hard time dealing with me when we were alone. we're so far apart in age we couldnt connect for most of my life. and in my head#that was the reason she left home. bc of me. bc she was tired of *me.*#i know now thats not true. and i understand now why she had to leave because if she felt the way im feeling then goddamn im glad she got ou#this feeling SUCKS. nd like#yeah this probably has to do with my father's daughter and the fact that she refused to even meet me until our dad died.#it took my dad dying for my sister to even be in the same room as me. that really messed with me as a kid. like it REALLY did.#so when my sister left home i just kinda went. oh okay neither of my sisters want anything to do with me! i will be alone forever! got it!#AND I KNOW NOW THATS NOT TRUE ON EITHER OF THEIR ENDS. I DONT HAVE A GOOD RELATIONSHIP W MY DADS DAUGHTER AND I PROBABLY NEVER WILL#BUT I DONT HOLD ANYTHING AGAINST HER ANYMORE BC GOD HER MOTHER WAS AWFUL AND I GET WHY SHE DIDNT WANT TO MEET ME BC OF EVERYTHING#BUT LIKE. THAT MESSED ME UP AND I JUST STRAIGHT UP ASSUMED BOTH MY SISTERS HATED ME FOR SO LONG.#AND NOW THAT I ALSO FEEL LIKE I NEED TO LEAVE I CAN SEE SO CLEARLY. MY SISTER NEVER HATED ME I WAS NEVER THE REASON SHE LEFT.#I CAN LET GO OF HOW HURT I FELT BECAUSE I ALSO NEED TO LEAVE#god i dont wanna hurt my mom though.#dont think i could leave her completely alone in this apartment. i dont think i can do that.#anyway. hi tumblr did you like todays oversharing episode
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mossyflowers · 8 months
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challenging u to go p rank p-2
Buddy I don't even have p-2 unlocked yet :x
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elmorapper · 2 years
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june 2021 // july 2022
they became friends over the past year
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osachiyo · 6 months
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ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ ! | ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ
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⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ➣ nanami x fem!reader
⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴄᴡ ➣ nsfw content (mdni or I'll beat you), brat!reader, hard dom!nanami, hairpulling, pussy slapping, spanking, fingering, throat fucking, bathroom sex, degradation, teasing, jealousy, 1.3k+ words of filth
⟣ ──┈ · · · + ᴀ/ɴ ➣ I'M SO SORRY FOR HOLDING THIS UP FOR SO DAMN LONG this man makes me so damn feral it's not even funny.. this is for my angel @nanamibeloved (hope I did ur man justice rylie !!)
⟣ ──┈ · · · + sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➣ during your house warming party, you have the genius idea of flirting with your husband's co-worker, how wrong could it go, right?
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Kento was pissed, to say the least. You guys threw a house warming party tonight, just for you to cling onto satoru's arm the entire goddamn night. It was infuriating, and downright insulting to your husband, Kento. He was way too prideful to show it though, brushing you both off with a wave of his hand as he sips on his drink.
Somehow he lasted until dinner, you being seated next to Satoru, tits pressed up against his arm as you giggle at his stupid jokes. You were supposed to sit next to him, not the white haired dumbass. He was gonna be patient, though. There will be plenty of time to punish you later− "oh my, 'toru your muscles are so big!" You giggled, shamelessly feeling your husband's co-worker up in front of him as Satoru's lips stretched to reveal a sleazy smirk, and your lover decided he had enough. Cursing under his breath, Kento formed a polite smile, excusing himself from the dinner table before discreetly glaring at your direction, silently demanding you go with him. You smirked to yourself, this is exactly what you wanted.
You were slammed against the bathroom door as soon as you locked the door. You looked up to see your husband towering over you, a menacing aura surrounding him, it intimidated and turned you on at the same time, your thighs clenching together, god− you wanted him so bad.
"on your knees," Kento's jaw was clenched, palms flat against the door, effectively trapping you in. Scoffing, you tugged on his cheetah print tie, yanking him closer to you, "why don't you make me?" You could almost see the vein popping out of his forehead, "so you're playing that game, huh? fine, have it your way." Was the last thing he uttered before you were pushed down to your knees, a large veiny hand tangled in your roots as you winced in pain. "ow! kento− it took me like 3 hours to style my hai−" you were cut off by your husband's hardened length slapping against your cheek, effectively shutting you up. "I don't want to hear your blabbering," he sighed, pushing the bulbous tip past your lips as he shuddered in delight. "now, get to work, slut." You whined at the derogatory name, licking the underside of his cock before taking him in your mouth again, suckling lightly on the tip. He hissed when you slowly started to take him fully into your mouth, fingers tangled in your hair tightening with each inch you swallow. You took half of him before abruptly pulling off− his brows twitched in annoyance and he breaths a quiet "enough" before slamming into your mouth forcefully, the mushroom tip reaching the very back of your throat as you sputter and gag on it, not expecting him to be so rough. he keeps going till your lips touch the small tuff of dirty blonde hair near his base before pulling out almost completely− then brutally thrusting back into the wet heat of your mouth.
It went like that for what felt like an eternity− brutally thrusting in and out, in and out until you were on the verge of passing out, your hands that were previously slapping and scratching at his muscular thighs now went almost limp beside you before he pulled out with a groan. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart when he saw you coughing and breathing heavily, saliva and precum dripping down your chin in webs, trying your best to get air back in your lungs. But all of that guilt quickly disappeared once you looked up at him with a cocky but weak smirk, tears gathered in your lashes− "that all you got? I'm disappointed."
Oh you were such a vixen, and that's exactly what he loved about you. He was going to break you.
Even as he pushed you onto the marbel sink, large hands prying your thighs apart and he could practically smell your arousal− saliva pooling in his mouth. God, he needed to taste you. Right now.
And he did− thumb sliding your panties to the side as his tongue licks a fat stripe up your cunt, savouring your bitter sweet taste on his eager tongue. The tip of his tongue gently circled your swollen clit, your hands clawing at the smooth marble as you arch further into his mouth− only to be put back in place as he presses down on your lower tummy, looking up at you from between your legs, his saliva and your slick coating his chin as he peers up at you with those beautiful, brown eyes that held jealousy, lust and most importantly− so much love and adoration for you. The look in his eyes let you know that this was indeed, the man you fell in love with. The sweet, caring Ken−
Your thoughts got cut off by him slipping his tongue into your hole, groaning lowly at the taste− his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs; rough and calloused from his ruthless years of jujutsu. He'd never get tired of your addicting taste on his skilled tongue, it was almost like dopamine to him− the feeling of your clit throbbing against his tongue as he slurped everything you had to offer. "god, could never get tired of this pussy," he groaned lowly into your cunt, the vibrations from his gravelly voice against your sensitive core made your head spin− how was he so fucking good at this? Every time felt like the first time with him and you loved it− you both did, really.
He loved how your thighs trembled pathetically as he blew on your clit, two thick fingers slipping in to massage your inner walls. His tongue lapping and sucking softly on your little bud before biting it gently, laughing cruelly when you tried to close your thighs around his head. "darling, you're only making things worse for yourself," he sighed calmly before brutally cracking a hand down on your inner thigh, making the soft flesh jiggle and sting as you let out a pained yelp, a fresh wave of tears gathering in your pitiful eyes.
"s' mean.." you sniffled, timidly wiping your tears with the back of your hand, broken gasps emitting from your mouth as he lands soft slaps on your pussy, webs of slick sticking to his fingers as they collide with your aching cunt. "didn't you want this?" He scoffed, two fingers spreading your lips apart and licking his lips at your hole clenching on nothing as it gushed more of your sweet essence− pooling on the fancy marble. "wanted to be taught a lesson− and fucked stupid? huh?" he swiftly landed two spanks right on your clit− a loud cry leaving your mouth and he glared at you with those brown− almost fully black now eyes, effectively getting you to quiet down. You didn't want to see what happens if you angered him further. You honestly didn't expect him to be this rough.
But you couldn't get yourself to complain when he flipped you around, taking his beloved tie off and binding your hands behind you− tight. He easily picked you up and pushed you against the door once again, face smushed against the high quality wood as he pushed your panties down to your knees in one fluid motion− quickly lining up with your entrance before pushing the fat tip in, making the both of you let out quiet moans. Your nails were digging into the sweaty palms of your hand at this point− yelping in surprise when he grabbed your hair and yanked your face to the side before enveloping your parted lips in a kiss. The kiss was much sweeter and gentle compared to his borderline brutal thrusts− a perfect balance, if you will.
Your ass recoiled with each slam of his hips against it, nasty squelching sounds filling the walls as you tried your very best to stay quiet. But unfortunately for you, your husband wasn't having any of that. Instead of shushing and telling you to keep quiet− he encouraged you to be louder− to scream his name until your lungs burned. He wanted you to be so damn loud so that fucker Satoru would know that you're his− that you're Kento's and he would make sure of it.
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©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
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09 wife jealous of how obsessed Johnny is with his girl, takes it out on 22 Ghosts and he fucks the attitude out of herrrrr and throws in one I love you that holds her off for the next hundred years
o.
my.
god.
yesysyeesyeyseyes
ok ok. can this just be multiverse ch 4? im feeling inspired. ch4 everyone i like this.
You are so happy for your friend, truly. But goddamn, if it doesn't sting seeing Johnny just embrace her, accept her love for what it is when Simon has been fighting you tooth and nail over your feelings.
It comes to head when everyone's in the lounge and Johnny looks at his wife with so much adoration in his eyes, and he plants a kiss on the corner of his wife's mouth.
You're lurching out of your chair so fast it tips over behind you— almost jogging back to your shared quarters with Ghost.
A couple of minutes later, there's a knock on the door.
Damn. It must be Soap's wife.
You're opening the door with an apology already on your lips when you realize it is definitely not her.
"Why are you knocking?" you sneer. "It doesn't matter, what're you doing here?"
Simon just stares at you, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from saying something you might regret.
"Let me in, pet."
Oh, so he can speak in a neutral tone.
With an aggravated sigh, you step aside and turn around, giving him your back. You won't cry again. Or at least try your best to not cry again.
The door softly clicks shut and you begin to feel like he's just pushed you into a corner.
"Look at me," he mutters.
He's definitely cornered you.
You don't turn around as you answer him. "Why, Simon? So you can continue to look at me like I'm worth nothing? Like I'm—" Your words turn to ash on your tongue because Simon's suddenly standing behind you, encircling his arms around your waist.
That starts the waterworks.
You spin to face him, returning his embrace. "Why do you hate me? I didn't choose to be here. I've never wanted to be a burden to you." Simon tightens his hold on you, pressing his cheek on the top of your head.
"I've never hated you."
"Well, that's news to me, isn't it?" you shakily snarked. You couldn't help it; your heart had taken enough of a beating.
He tips your head up with his hand under your chin, and you take in a sharp breath. He took his mask off.
Simon's as handsome as you remember. His lips are a soft, rosy pink. The bisected left eyebrow, the silverly long, thin scar on his upper lip, the crooked nose, even the bloody stubble— all of it the same.
And his cheeks are flush, with life.
"I don't hate you, love. How could I when you're my wife?" he breathed.
His wife. He called you his wife. His wife.
Simon gently lowers his head, and you rise to your toes, and when your lips meet, there's a switch in you that's flipped. The kiss turns hungry almost instantly, and you're moaning embarrassingly into his mouth, but you don't care. You don't fucking care.
He tastes the same, he even sounds the same when you suck on his tongue lightly. He's gruffer here, but he's still yours. And now you're going to take what's yours.
You start to fumble at his clothes, because why won't they just come off fast enough? Simon chuckles into the kiss and with his help, you're both swiftly naked.
His body is radiating heat, scalding under your touch. When you wrap your hand around his heavy cock, the groan you swallow is so lewd that it has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.
Breaking away, you roam your eyes over his bare body before pushing him back with a hand on his chest. He lays back on his mattress, and you waste no time in straddling his hips and lining him up with your slit.
Simon's hands up to grab your waist, and chokes out, "Wait, you don't need me to—" and he doesn't get to finish because you've got the tip of his head in you already.
"Another time, tomorrow, yesterday, whenever you want just not right now. I need to feel you inside of me." That's the only warning he gets before you slowly start to sink down onto him, slick cunt spreading open for him beautifully— moaning loudly when his head kisses the entrance of your womb.
Oh, you've missed this. Yeah, you've missed Simon too but this... he slots himself where only he could ever fit— like it was made for him. And you have no doubt in your mind that you were, in fact, made for him.
You place your hands on his chest and start to ride him, keeping it slow because you want to savor every second, memorize how he looks like in bliss. Your pace stays the same, a gentle up-down when you feel his grip tighten around your waist. Simon's biting his bottom lip, his molten eyes are locked onto where you take him in, and he's starting to tremble.
He's about to come.
You quickly rearrange yourself to be on your feet and start to fuck yourself onto his twitching cock. Now he's groaning loudly, sonorous noise from deep within his chest, and you angle your hips forward slightly— taking him even deeper.
Your body is slick with sweat, hair matted on your forehead from the exercise, and Simon starts to thrust himself up into you as you come down— now fucking you in turn.
His fingers are painfully digging into your soft flesh, when he looks up into your eyes, mumbling, "Kiss me, oh god, f-fuck, kiss me please."
How could you say no to that?
You rearrange your feet at his sides and lean down to slant your lips over his, but he gets impatient, pulling you down strongly— teeth clacking against his, but the slight pain is overridden when his thrusts start to turn choppy, brutal. It's so familiar that you pull away, your words spill from your lips unbidden.
"I love you."
He grunts as he comes inside of you, coating your slick walls with his essence, and you kiss him again, languidly this time.
Simon's head falls back onto his pillow, and he rubs your waist as he tries to catch his breath. You try to rest your head on his chest when he stops you with a hand to your sternum.
"You didn't finish," he asserts.
Of all the things... "No, Simon, I'm more than satisfied with..." you quietly moan when he begins to lower his hand until he's at your mons and uses his own cum to make the pad of his thumb slippery— rubbing tight, precise circles on your neglected clit.
He plays you like an instrument, and your walls are fluttering around his softening cock in minutes.
When your thighs begin to shake around him, he pulls you down with a hand to the back of your head and whispers against your lips what you've been waiting to hear all this time.
You climax to his words.
"I love you too."
--
Johnny gapes at Simon the next day, because his demeanor is vastly different to the usual surly.
"Ye slept with her, didn't ye?"
A tsk. "None of your business, Johnny."
"Ye did! About damn time, if ye ask me."
Simon doesn't rebuke that. You were another's' but now you're his. Only his.
And he's never letting you go.
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bunny584 · 3 months
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OBSESSED: FUSHIGURO
A/N: OH. MY. GOD. Anon. I love you and hate you for this request. This was…hard. I told myself I wouldn’t publish it unless it was fucking perfect (you should see the scalpels I took to each goddamn sentence before this version).
SECOND: I will square up with Gege for writing the most enigmatic, LAYERED, complex, muddled character to exist. I wanted this to be Megumi. Through and through. His darkness, his light, his reservation, his crazy, all in one. And IDK. I think I did it? This one is purely to prove to myself that I can write for characters that are hard to write for (*cough* yuta im glaring at you *cough*)
THIRD: if you do read this (I get people feel things about aged up characters etc), I implore you to listen to this. Guys. I heard this at 0200 IN THE OR during a 6 hour case and the entire concept for this came to me. Meg is sophisticated and unruly, selfless and selfish, etc. So this has some NSFW but definitely probably more on the poetic, long ends of my works.
CW: Aged up characters (20+), college AU, fluffy/raunchy/dark romance-y because LOOK at him. He takes after Gojo AND Toji. Mature, 18+
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“You like it when I’m rough.”
Megumi’s melody rings crystal clear.
Low.
Precise.
An F-14 Tomcat fighter jet, flying dark. Below enemy radar.
The piano keys float beneath his tone. His long, slender, deft fingers effortlessly execute the sheet music before him. It’s his GPS system, a personal flight map.
Little Beethoven, his advanced music theory professor calls him.
Truth is, Megumi is a prolific pianist and vocalist. He can tame any note, any melody, any harmony faster than any of his Shikigami.
Speaking of…
Megumi pulls off the piano and tortured love song in an instant. Just as the grade 3 curse creeps through the open door.
The part between his right long and ring fingers is automatic. His left hand grips the web space between his right thumb and index finger.
“Demon dog.” Megumi summons.
Low. Precise. Decisive.
“Eat it, boy.”
A small, approving smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Low level curses are the nothing more than chew toys to his divine dogs. With a tiny wave of his fingers, his technique buzzes inward.
Megumi’s eyes float to the ancient analog clock on the wall.
13:50
10 more minutes until you’ll meet him for your date.
No. Not date.
Study. 10 more minutes until you’re meeting him to study.
Your thought blooms within him like wildfire. It sets his normally cool, porcelain skin ablaze.
Megumi whips his body around to face the piano. To exorcise the feeling. The keyboard has always been his outlet. His life blood. Playing, singing, musing in and out of written songs is his catharsis.
Words don’t come easy. They never have. But lyrics do.
And when he gets to ride lyrics with his voice, his runs..?
The words he can never find on his own are suddenly out there. In the atmosphere. Coating empty rooms in a mist of his thoughts, his feelings.
No certain promise that the person the words are destined for will ever catch them. Or ever walk through the room and be kissed by the remnants of his musical trail. But Megumi has said (sung, played) them. And that’s enough.
“Sorry if I come across a type of way.”
“I’ve been trying to get out of my way…”
His fingers dive into the keys. Angrily. Earnestly.
“I know it doesn’t seem like I care, but you know I care—“
“Wow Meg, you sound incredible.”
You bring him to an abrupt stop. Your voice is maple syrup trailing down Megumi’s neck, leaving goosebumps in its candied wake.
Pitch fucking perfect.
A soft, ethereal C, gliding down Heaven’s staircase. You infuse sunlight into his name, whichever way you choose to say it.
And it’s hell. It’s cruel. To have as keen hearing as he does. To listen to you sing his name and have nothing else follow.
“Fushiguro.” Megumi shoots up from his seat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
“What?”
“Fushiguro.” He repeats, eyes briefly meeting yours before settling above your head. He’s at least a head and shoulders taller.
“Nobody calls me Meg.”
You throw your head back. Feather light crescendo in your laughter. It’s pretty. Tantalizing in the way chandeliers twinkle when they capture a beam of light.
His eyes dart down to catch the feminine column of your neck. Curving into your delicate collar bones. How are your lines so seamless?
So cinematic. Like he’s watching a figure skater land a triple axel. Or a prima ballerina en pointe. It’s not fathomable.
Gorgeous.
You are gorgeous.
“I call you Meg.” You retort with a smile that liquifies all of his joints.
You double your walking speed to keep pace with Megumi’s long strides. Both of you exit the sound engineering building. Heading straight for the campus library a couple blocks away.
“Who were you—oh,” Megumi’s glacial hand along the small of your back steals your voice away.
Your eyes and feet follow his gentle push, shifting you to the other side of him.
“Walking on the wrong side.” He mutters, monotone. Matter-of-fact. Obviously.
He’s a gentleman. Of course he is going to walk on the traffic facing edge of the sidewalk.
Of course he didn’t feel the electric currents wire through his fingers to clench — suffocate — his heart.
No, he didn’t hear that punched out, falsetto gasp when his hand cradled your perfectly tapered waist.
Or notice how well you fit into his hand. How light you are under his touch that had none of his real strength behind it.
You’re made of alluring lines. Intoxicating sounds.
What would it take to coax a pretty melody out of your pouty lips?
His fingers?
They’re long. And smart. Cold. Remarkably patient. You’d like them.
He could make you love them.
Crave them. Need, whimper, whine, and cry out for them.
“So who was it?” You tether him to reality.
“Who was what?” Megumi counters, leading you to a private study room.
“The way you were singing earlier.”
Hairs along the back of his neck stand at attention. Blood runs Siberian cold. Megumi’s gaze on you is subzero.
“It had to be for someone.” You lower down into a seat in slow motion.
The sweetheart neckline of your sundress is mean. Your supple mounds tilt and ripple with every micro movement. Megumi has forgotten why he’s glaring at you.
“You sound too…pretty. It can’t be wasted on thin air.” You continue.
“She must be—“
“Let’s just get started, okay?” He sharply redirects the conversation.
And promptly shifts gear to low autopilot. He’ll speak when spoken to, answer questions intermittently. But his mind’s true coordinates are a galaxy away.
Megumi retreats to his shadow garden.
Watching you.
Drinking you in.
Savoring each detail on his tastebuds like dessert.
The pencil eraser leaves an indent on your bottom lip where you’ve been pressing too hard.
Megumi wants to roll your bottom lip under his teeth. Until it flushes rose and swells beneath his relentless pull.
His eyes fall to your bracelet, far too big for your dainty wrist.
He could hold both of your wrists in one hand above your head or behind your back for hours. Without breaking a sweat.
His other hand would take its time.
To stroke you. Pet you. Learn your sheet music. Then play your body like a harp until you’re a chorus of beautiful, soprano whimpers and moans. Begging and pleading so prettily, enticing him to give in.
But he won’t.
Not until you’re soft enough. A babbling, warm, ruined brook beneath his fingers.
Then he’ll take you, gorgeous.
Searing pain from his sharp swallow and nails digging into his thighs rip him down to the present.
Vision a little fuzzy. Head a revolving door of vulgar scenarios. A dull, demanding ache between his legs draws his eyes to his lap.
Fucking hell.
His jeans are uncomfortable. He’s stiff and needy. Not nearly enough strength in his pants to hold back his drunken arousal.
Not to the mention, the—
swarm of shadows growing at his feet?
Is his…innate domain materializing around him right now?
Megumi aggressively slices through the air at his hip level. Below the table, but you don’t miss his sudden stirring.
“Meg? You okay over—“
“Going to the bathroom.” He gruffs through a clenched jaw. Megumi places his forearm over his crotch before hurrying out of the room.
He can barely recognize the man in the mirror. Flushed to his ears. Volcanoes threatening eruption in his eyes. Api Biru. Pure, triple distilled, blue lava coursing through his veins.
Snap out of it, Fushiguro.
The splash of cold water does nothing for his internal heat. But his milky complexion returns to its effervescent state.
But then he turns a little too quickly to leave. And his painfully hard length drags along his fabric. It’s blinding.
A feeble moan tumbles out of his tight lips.
“Fuck.”
Megumi slams his eyes shut. He needs to readjust. But if he touches himself now, he might not be able to stop.
A slow, steadying breath fills his lungs.
“Just adjust, don’t…” His voice trails off. Icey fingers around his hot, angry base is enough to rip the carpet from beneath his feet.
“Oh, fuck.” Megumi mumbles through one quick pump up his shaft.
He shakes his head as if to tell himself enough. He rests his erection along his thigh before zipping up. Still painful, but tolerable.
A tornado obliterates any remaining resolve in Megumi’s mind on his walk back to you.
You are a dream.
Or a nightmare? A curse?
It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t care less.
Megumi would follow you. Deeper than the crypts of his 10 shadows. Into hell if it meant he could have you the way he wants you.
The way he craves you.
Because fuck the cost.
He’d pay anything.
You’re working on an elaborate concept diagram on the white board. On the tip of your toes. Lip curled under your teeth. And you are just irresistible.
So, he won’t resist.
“Meg! Took you a bit, you okay?”
Megumi is silent. Unblinking. Sauntering toward you.
“Megumi?”
You lower to the soles of your shoes. Neck craning to look at his face. Your eyes widen at his persistent silence. Rosy heat dusting your cheeks.
Pretty little doe, rooted in place by his wolfish glare.
Megumi takes the marker out of your hand and tosses it behind him in one swift motion.
“Hmm,” a tiny acknowledgment of his name. Just because it sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue.
Megumi corners you against the wall. Both of his hands casually in his pockets.
He watches you shift. Flicker your eyes in every direction. Fiddle with your thumbs.
His quiet.
His presence.
It flusters you. Well before he’s gotten the chance to run his hands along the lazy curve of your waist and hips.
“So…so blue.” You stammer. Your warm eyes metronome between his.
“They are.”
Megumi steps impossibly closer. His eyes drop to your chest. Dainty, nervous heaves. Up and down. Up and down.
“You are so,” you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze. “hard to read.”
Megumi snakes his large, graceful fingers into your nape. The temperature difference between your warmth and his cold startles you deeper into his grasp. Your head evanesces into his pull.
A beautiful, shocked gasp escapes you. Just as Megumi’s lips trace the shell of your ear.
“I want you.”
His breaths collide with yours, now. Heat welling deep in his groin. His cock thunders against his thigh.
“Can you read that?” Megumi rasps. Ensuring his voice vibrates down your spine.
A new sound tumbles from your lips. Like you choked on your last swallow. How pretty. You gurgling and gagging like that.
“W-want me? Megumi wh—“
“I.” Megumi nudges his thigh between your legs. His steel pipe erection digs into your dewy, hot core. He angles his leg slightly upward, inching you on the tip of your toes.
His prima ballerina, en pointe.
“Want you.” His lips ghost against yours. Free hand cups the flesh beneath your thigh. Pads of his fingers twitching to dig in.
The two of you drink in this lock-in-key fit. Megumi revels in you. Like this. At his complete mercy.
The prodigal son, born with more power than he knows what to do with.
Ten shadows. Ten Shikigami. It’s been centuries since the last head of his bloodline had power buzzing beneath his fingertips like him.
And somehow he’s never felt more powerful than this.
With you, heaven’s most precious angel, cradled in his arms. Drowning in sinful ecstasy. He brands this freeze frame into the most permanent part of his memory.
Then, he free falls off your cliff edge.
Megumi takes your lips with unfettered greed. Hunger woven into the way his tongue traces every corner of your delectable, soft mouth. His fingers push your head deeper into him. Sucking and nibbling on your warm muscle.
You shower him with airy, choppy little pants. Moans and whines so light they crescendo to fairy dust. You can’t keep up with his bruising kiss. His other hand palms your thigh, kneading little bruises into your silky smooth skin.
Marking what’s his.
“Oh my god.”
You breathe into his mouth when he lets you up for air. Megumi’s eyes dart down to the meeting point of your sex and his muscular thigh.
Did you really think he wouldn’t notice how you’re rutting your pretty little cunt against his leg like that?
Crimson high on your cheeks. You look away when he tries to catch your fucked out gaze.
“Don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” His hand traces up to your hips. You preen into his firm grip.
“Megumi.”
“Don’t stop, pretty girl.” He forcefully moves your hips in more dramatic, languid, deep rolls against his thigh. He’s not paying any mind to the pool of his precum soaking through his pants.
You bury your head in his neck. Fingernails digging pretty crescent moons into his back. You take over the pace. Undulating against him. Shameless. In complete heat.
“You feel s-so…so good.” Your lips smear against his dampened neck. Megumi responds by circling your puffy, slick bud with his fingers.
And fuck. The slurred, broken whimper that rings in his ears.
The way you hump him even more sloppily.
He could finish from that alone.
Your hand flies to your mouth. Empty huffs spilling. Whines ascending in pitch. You are close.
“Such pretty sounds, baby.”
“Megumi…meg..I-“
“Let it out.” He grips the back of your neck. Feeling dangerously close to his own nirvana. Drunk off your precious melody.
“Sing for me.”
“F-fuck, GOD.”
You bite down on his neck. Waves of pleasure crashing into you like hurricane winds. He grips your waist steady. Feeling every involuntary twitch and jerk of your doll-like frame.
Blessing or curse?
He doesn’t know.
But he will follow you to the end of his lifetime and the next.
“God, Fushiguro. That was…” The lusty haze from your peak settles around you. The once shattered world, slowly pieces itself back together.
“No.” Megumi pulls you out of his neck. Dropping his lips to yours, so he can breathe the air directly from your lungs.
“Meg. You call me Meg.”
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wombywoo · 11 days
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do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?
boy do I....
I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...
These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~
Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3
Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3
bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!
The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3
Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3
come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3
in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3
Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3
I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~
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cutecatlov3r · 7 months
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kinktober: hate sex~ katsuki bakugou
synopsis: your rival is sneaking into your tent, seeing you though just in a tee and panties made his dick hard . and he hates you even more for that .
warnings/tw: aged up! dryhumping, hair pulling, piv, degrading, unprotected sex, choking, and creampie
character ai bot that I made in honor of this: here
not proofread
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katsuki opened your tent, going inside, not caring if you were awake or not. he looked pissed off and annoyed. you were startled by the sudden intrusion, propping yourself on your elbows to look at his grumpy face… it may sound stupid but you honestly wished it would’ve been a bear instead of him being there. why was he here? you both hated each other.
noticing your confused gaze, he rolled his eyes, looking at you.
“tch! shitty hair and raccoon eyes are making out in my goddamn tent! so I’m staying here dumbass,” he said in his gruff voice, shitty hair being kirishima and raccoon eyes being mina. “it’s already past 8, I’m going to fucking bed so make some room,”
“what?! no way!” you furrow your brows yelling.
he looks at you, a disgusted look as he sees you aren’t even wearing any pants. you pull your cover over yourself quickly, not saying anything. he scoffed slightly.
“im going to. i wasn’t even asking, dumbass,” he stated in an irritated tone. he laid as far away from you as he could, turning around so he didn’t have to face you.
“ugh! are you serious? go ask-“
“shut the hell up and go to sleep. share your fucking cover too, don’t be a selfish bitch,” he grumbled, snatching away your cover.
you groan, snatching it back.
“go get your own!”
“no! I’ll be lucky as fuck if kirishima hasn’t already got his cum all over it right now!”
“okay fine! god, you’re so annoying!” you gave him some of your cover, facing away from him.
you try to shut your eyes after a few minutes… that was until you accidentally feel his back press up against you. both of you tensed up.
he was a guy, don’t blame him. don’t blame that his immediate thought was to feel those plush thighs of yours. he made a disgusted face to himself the more he thought about how you were in your underwear. were you even wearing a bra? ew! snap out of it, he hates your guts… yet the thought of rearranging them did make his dick ha- oh no.
you just stared at the tent wall in front of you. neither of you said a word.
“fucking shit,” he muttered. sighing, he turned to face you. “oi face me, I know your ass can’t fall asleep that quickly,”
you groan, facing him.
“my dick is hard,”
WHAT?! ew! that’s fucking disgusting why would he tell you that!… why are your thighs instinctively squeezing together at the thought that you were the person who made him hard…
after a long silence you wanted to see if he was lying. was he? you couldn’t tell, you couldn’t even see his facial features in the darkness of your tent. you silently move your hand, fingers grazing his abs. but once they reached his crotch it was obvious, he was painfully hard.
he winced slightly, he was sensitive.
“do something about it, whore,”
you roll your eyes at his insult.
“why should I? i don’t even like you,” you reply, taking your hand back from his dick.
“i fucking hate you too but this is your fault. you wanted to be a slut and not wear pants to sleep so you’re gonna fucking deal with it,” he placed a hand on your hip, rutting his hips upwards slightly, you can feel his dick rubbing your clothed slit and clit. you let out a shaky breath, feeling slightly turned on. “need to fuck you… dumbass,”
you stay silent, allowing his big fat cock to tease your clothed pussy.
“no…”
he grabbed your chin, pulling you into a hot and sensual kiss, his tongue rolling against yours, your spit mixing together with his. you let out a small moan.
“take off those panties… im going to fuck you,”
without hesitation you took off your panties, throwing them somewhere in the tent, you didn’t care where, you just threw them.
he smirked to himself, you couldn’t see it. he went on top of you eagerly, pulling your legs apart. the cool air hitting the wetness of your cunt.
he used a finger to feel how wet you were, dragging it up and down.
“so fucking wet for me…” he mumbled, mostly to himself for his own ego. “you know, only whores get turned on this much over a guy showing them attention. are you a whore?”
“no!” you furrow your brows. he pulls your hair, gripping it at the scalp, leaning close to your face. “yeah I am,” you changed your mind.
“i know,” he rolled his eyes. “I’m only gonna fuck you so I can cum, I don’t give a damn about you. this is all your fault anyway,”
you didn’t like the sound of that. “what the fuck? no way, you’re gonna make me- ngh…” you pause in your sentence feeling as he led his, now unclothed dick, up and down your folds.
he had his usual grumpy face on, holding back his groans as he slapped the tip of his dick on your clit. it caused little jolts of pleasure for you and him.
he let go of your hair, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. “im gonna fuck you so good,” he said, cockily, lining his cock at your entrance. your heart raced. anticipating on how full he’d make you feel.
as he entered in you and stretched you out, his other hand grabbed your throat, applying enough pressure to where it felt amazing. not too hard yet not too soft.
your fingernails dug into his back as he pushed himself fully inside of you. you felt so full, so so full. he kept his hand on your throat, rutting his hips. he didn’t even wait for you to get adjusted to his long cock. he just needed to cum, you were his useful toy.
he pistoned into you, his hand reaching down to lift up your shirt. no bra. he smirked, head moving down to suck on your hardened nipples.
“k-kah~ katsuki,” you moaned. you continued to moan his name.
he felt his ego grow bigger.
“yeah? you like being fucked like a dumb slut by the man you hate?” he asked, gruff voice in your ear, causing you to clench around his cock. “yeah. that’s what I thought. clenching around me like you need me,”
you couldn’t even say a proper sentence, just nodding off as he angled his hips to fuck you right where your g-spot was. his cock touched and rubbed against that spot, clit throbbing.
you felt as if you were seeing stars. oh god, katsuki wished he could see your pathetic face. drool falling from your chin because of the fact you were being fucked so dumb. his cock slipped in and out of you with ease, your sticky slick coating his poor needy cock.
the way he fucked into you as if you were nothing made both him and you so fucking horny. you needed release, feeling that knot in your stomach come so close to being undone.
“fuck yeah… yeah…!” he groaned, your pussy kept clenching the more he spoke those dirty words.
sooner rather than later you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t stop that insane feeling that was happening. you whined, fast breaths, shutting your eyes as you creamed on his cock, clenching him tightly, milking his fat cock.
the more you twitched around him, the more faster he fucked into you, he could feel the cream you made, a soft and moist feeling as he fucked into your velvet walls.
he straightened his posture, grabbing your hips in the air, fucking you like a fleshlight. sweat dripped from his forehead and he grunted and groaned. he was so close. he needed this.
he continued to fuck you, you moaning his name and only his, not caring if others heard.
“cum in me…! please! please!” you beg.
he let out an almost pornographic and sort of high pitched moan as his seed shot into you. along ropes of his cum filling you up. he kept rutting his hips, he couldn’t stop it, fucking the cum that seeped out of you back into your messy pussy. his moans getting so goddamn whiny.
“so good…! ah! so good, fuck! fuck!” he trembled, fucking you as much as he could.
after fucking you, his heart rate slowed down, as did his breathing. he set you down, collapsing next to you, heavy breaths as he stared at the tent ceiling.
“such a whore…” he mumbled, looking over at you. you were so drained, he pretty much fucked your brains out… and you wanted more.
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2K notes · View notes
gojonanami · 8 months
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SEEING YOU TONIGHT, IT'S A BAD IDEA RIGHT? - SATORU GOJO
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summary: seeing your ex was always a bad idea, but not if it was satoru gojo.
cw: 18+ readers only, smut, f!reader, innuendos, ex-boyfriend!Satoru, praise kink, thigh riding, degradation, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), breeding kink.
a/n: gojo and bad idea right by olivia rodrigo has been living in my head rent free and here's the product :).
word count: 3,873
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It was dangerous. 
Look at this picture I drew Nanami. Can’t believe he didn’t want to keep it. 
Gojo attaches a picture of a crudely drawn dick, and you snort at your phone. 
It was a dangerous game the two of you were choosing to play. 
Small. Is the response you choose. Short but funny. And just enough to elicit a response you want. 
You know the real thing is much bigger. 
And there it was.
The game the two of you chose to play back and forth always ended here one way or another - and usually it was him who drove it there in the first place. 
Is it? I don’t remember. 
Then come over and I’ll remind you. 
But that didn’t mean you were completely blameless either. 
You bite your lip at his text. You really shouldn’t. 
You’re just horny. 
That’s right. 
Another message. 
For you. 
Fuck him. But that’s what exactly you wanted to do again. 
You told yourself the last time would be the last time. After he had fucked you and left you high and dry, you told yourself you wouldn’t fuck your exes or let them fuck with you. And you didn’t — except for Gojo. 
He was always the fucking exception wasn’t he? 
And he was the exception to your ick to double texting - because you supposedly took too long to respond to his message. 
Should I show you what you’re missing? 
And it’s a picture of him fresh out of the shower, with the most shit eating grin on his face. Water ringlets traced his body with absolute reverence, his thighs teasingly visible, reminding you how you had come undone on them the last time you hooked up, and the towel of his was frustratingly too low on his waist. 
What’s your new address? 
Fuck.
And that’s what you were going to get done tonight. 
You didn’t know what to wear. But did it matter because it was going to come off anyway. You opted for a little black dress, one that was a little too short and little too tight. 
You pull up to his place - off campus - and it’s a new shiny high rise building that you stare up at with squinting eyes. Show off. 
“Trust me, I’m not overcompensating for anything,” and you whirl around to see him waiting for you, “but you know that don’t you?” 
“Oh do you ever shut up?” and he leans closer, tilting his sunglasses off his face, lips curled in that goddamn grin. His blue button-up and jeans made your breath catch -- god it had been so long since you've seen him out of his usual Jujutsu Tech uniform.
“I plan to, later tonight,” and you scoff, as he leads you to his building, a hand on the small of your back that sends sparks flying up your spine.
“Memory recalls you don’t shut up much during that as well,” and his hand snakes around your waist as you both walk in, nodding to the doorman as he lets you both into the elevator, “don’t you live at the school? I was surprised when you told me that have a place off-campus,” 
“Well I prefer to live in a place free of teenagers sometimes,” his arm leaves you, slipping into his pockets, as he raises an eyebrow, “unless you were looking forward to fucking in our old school,” 
You glare at him, “Gojo-“ 
“That’s not what you called me in Yaga’s classroom that one afternoon when everyone was away-" He says cheekily.
“Oh my god, Satoru, shut up,” and you crush your lips to his, and he’s grinning. His arms slip around your waist as if they never even left. But these weren’t the same lean arms that pinned you to a desk as he ate you out that one afternoon - no these were the ones of a man who has trained and seen battle time and time again. You were always surprised at how broad Satoru had gotten over the years - it shouldn’t be a surprise as he was always the “strongest” but he was lean and fit before, slender almost - but now, as he pressed you against the wall of the elevator, fingers digging into your ass, his body engulfed you. 
And you were already addicted to the feeling. 
If it was any more obvious, you don’t hear the ding of the elevator as you arrive at his floor, as he pulls away, “going to have to part for a second sweetheart, need to unlock the door.” 
But he pulls you along by your hand, and somehow that gesture is all the more overwhelming than anything you had done in the elevator. 
You watch him scan his keycard, unlocking the door, “How much does Jujutsu High pay you?” 
And he smirks, “Perks of being the strongest,” but you frown at that — you know those were few and far between. 
But he pulls you inside, pressing you against the door, “Now where were we?” He hums against your neck, his hands slide over your bare thighs, “I’ve missed this-“ 
“Could have fooled me,” you sigh as he kisses your neck, “I haven’t heard from you in a year,” 
“I am a very busy man,” and he lifts you with such ease, hands wrapped around your thighs, your dress so easily riding up, “wear this just for me?” 
“Just for you, and maybe on a few dates,” and his head tilts, expression flickering with jealousy for a millisecond before his god complex returns. 
“And yet here you are with me,” and he’s kissing you again, his tongue parting your lips with ease, as if he’s trying to erase any evidence of another person’s touch. You moan when he sucks on your bottom lip, “so pliable, aren’t you sweetheart? Just fall to pieces under my touch,” 
And his words serve to make you squirm, but as a challenge as well, as your hands tug him by his collar, “and you don’t? I recall that afternoon in the classroom, and I had to pray no one walked by so they wouldn’t hear your moans when I rode you,” 
But he’s annoyingly unfazed, his breath warm against your skin, “I love a woman who takes charge, that’s why I can’t get enough of you,” and he’s closing the gap between you, kissing your lips, before tracing kisses down your jaw and neck, until his teeth graze your pulse, “should I leave a mark?” 
“Gojo-“ 
“Oh I’m definitely leaving a mark now,” and his teeth dig into your neck, sucking and licking, drawing a moan from your throat, “does anyone else make you moan like this?” 
“Why are you interested in —ah—“ and he’s tugging the straps of your dress off, “that?” The last word comes out as a whisper. 
“No bra? And you’re so insistent that you weren’t flirting with me over text,” and he snaps the strap against your skin, “it’s always flirting when it’s us, sweetheart,” 
“You didn’t answer my question,” you grumble and he’s carrying you now, your arms around his shoulders, “Gojo-“
And he’s pressing you to the wall outside his bedroom, and he’s taking off his sunglasses - and no matter how many times you’ve seen his eyes - no matter how many times you’ve stared into them — they always make you feel like you’re drowning — breathless and slow, like you submerged in water, unable break to the surface. 
“Are you going to continue to call me that?” And he’s being rough as he teases your thighs apart, his fingers teasing the hem of your dress, “because I may take you right here - let all my neighbors hear you cum on my fingers, my mouth, or my cock - dealer’s choice,” and his kiss is bruising, as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, relentless as always, always trying to prove himself, and he had nothing to prove. 
And it only took his hand shaking up your thigh to press on the wet patch of your underwear to make you break. 
“Satoru, fuck-“ and his grin makes you shiver. 
“Good girl,” and you nearly come undone from those words alone, as he carries you to his bedroom, tossing you into his bed without much to-do. 
You bounce against the springs of the mattress slightly, but he’s on you in a moment, perched over you, as he meets your lips in a desperate kiss, as if he had parted from your lips ten years ago as opposed to ten seconds. 
You are pulling at his shirt, trying to get it over his head, but he pins your arms down before you can, “not yet, baby,” 
You’re strong but not when he’s using his strength to hold you in place, “Satoru-“ and he’s using his free hand to slide your straps down lower, “that’s not fair-“
“I was born unfair,” and you snort, but it quickly turns to a groan when his hand squeezes your breast. 
“So sensitive,” and he leans his head down to suck on your nipple, “no one tastes as good as you sweetheart,” 
“And how many others have you tasted this year?” And he doesn’t pause, only switches to the other, as his fingers tease the other nipple. 
“I could ask you the same,” and you gasp as his teeth graze your nipple, “Satoru-“ and he pauses now, “tell me,” 
You grit your teeth, “No-"
“Then I’m going to suck a hickey here,” he kisses right above your nipple, “and you won’t be wearing these low cut dresses for a while,” and his teeth bare against your skin, and you jolt against him, “tell me,” he repeats. 
You lay your head back, “I said I went on a few dates, I didn’t say I have slept with anyone else-ah-“And he’s sucking the mark, his teeth biting and nibbling on the skin, as he soothes it with his tongue, “you said you wouldn’t-“ you whine, and he smiles, before pressing his lips to yours. 
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he cups your cheek, “shyness suits you,” 
And he’s tugging your dress downward, rolling it down to your stomach, and you’re pulling at his shirt, until he helps you get it off his shoulders. And your eyes rake over his chest, “Like what you see?” 
You flush, “I never said you were bad to look at,” and he raises an eyebrow. 
“Princess, I’m the best to look at,” and that draws a laugh from your lips, which he eagerly swallows, pressing his lips fervently to yours, looking to worship the mouth that just made that heavenly noise, “I haven’t been with anyone else,” he breathes, a centimeter from your lips, “since you,” 
“Really?” And he tilts his head. 
“Just for you, sweetheart,” and you don’t waste a moment. 
You’re flipping him on his back, and he’s staring up at you — in shock and then in lust filled eyes, a thick haze that settles over your body, as you press your lips to his again, and he surges to meet them. 
Your fingers are fumbling with his belt, and he’s trying to pull your dress down your legs. You part for a moment, standing to pull it off, before settling on his lap again, but his hands pull you to settle on his thigh instead. 
He flexes his thigh, and you stifle your moan, your cunt squeezing around nothing, “come on, ride my thigh,” your wetness soaks through and he groans, “you’re certainly wet enough for it,” 
“Fuck-“ and he flexes again and again, until you’re grinding against his thigh, and his cocky grin makes you want to slap him. 
“Sweetheart, you’re soaking through,” and he grunts, helping you ride his thigh, the muscle and fabric rubbing against your clit, making you moan, “that’s it, c’mon cum on my thigh like a good slut,” 
And that sends you over the edge, the squelch of your pussy on his leg growing only louder, as your juices run down his pant leg, “glad I could do that twice,” and he’s kissing your neck, “maybe we can make it a third,” 
And you meet his lips in a lazy kiss, your lips sliding across his at first, until it grows more insistent, and you’re back fumbling with his belt, pulling it off, and undoing the button of his jeans. 
“So needy,” he smirks, and he lifts his waist, to help you pull off his pants, “didn’t know you needed my dick that bad, Princess,” but the smugness leaves as you palm him through his boxers, a hiss leaving his mouth as you slip your hand inside, teasing the head with your fingers. 
“What was that again? Who’s needy?” You grin — you love watching him fold for you like this, as blood rushes to his cheeks and cock, he’s nearly panting as you palm him, and it’s such a pretty cock — was there anything about him that wasn’t unfairly perfect? “Fuck, I forgot how big you were - gonna split me in half, aren’t you?” But you’re going much too slow for his taste, as your fingers tease him, smearing his pre-cum over his length, as you lick it from your fingers, “and you always taste so good,” 
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re toying with me,” he nearly growls, as you pull off his boxers, snapping the elastic against his skin as you do.
“But you’re my favorite toy,” and your fingers return around his dick, squeezing lightly, and that’s his final straw. 
You don’t even realize your back is hitting the bed until you’re already pinned under him, and he’s smiling between your thighs now, “two can play at that game sweetheart,” and he kisses your inner thigh, “and I always win,” 
And he’s pulling down your panties in a moment, letting a reverent fuck leave his lips as he stares at your swollen lips, “So pretty,” and he noses at your inner thighs, before his teeth dig into your sensitive skin, and your breath stutters, “and all for me,” 
“Satoru-“ and his fingers are parting your folds, making your hips jump at his touch, and he can’t have that can he? And he’s pinning your hips, as he stares at your pretty swollen folds, “stop teasing-“ 
“Like you stopped teasing me, Princess?” He raises an eyebrow, but he slips a finger inside, “but I’ll be nice, unlike you,” and he’s pumping his finger knuckle deep, slipping into places you could never reach yourself, “fuck, you’re practically swallowing my finger,” and a second finger is stuffed inside you, “can’t wait to feel this pussy around my cock,” and you’re shaking when he finally leans down to press a kiss to your pretty clit. 
“S-satoru,” you moan, a mess, as he fucks your walls hard with his fingers, the lewd squelching ringing in your ears, as he continued to pry apart your thighs, leaning down to press his lips to your clit again. 
And you whimper, before moaning, as he sucks at it, lapping at your pussy, as he continued to fuck you, “so sweet when you’re all fucked out, keep making those pretty noises, sweetheart,”
And you have no choice when his tongue slips in the stead of his fingers, fingers choosing to play and pinch your clit, a symphony of moans and whines leaving your throat, as you move to cover your face. 
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he coos, kissing your pussy as he speaks, “you’re going to make me self-conscious and we wouldn’t want that, would we baby?” And his words are not helping as he redoubles his efforts, pausing only to speak, as his hands sneak under your thighs to press you impossibly closer to his mouth, intent on devouring you, “look at me - wanna see my pretty baby’s face when she falls apart for me,” 
And you look, his face smeared with your cum, lips glossy and nearly dripping with it, as he grins, before feasting on you again, makes you fall apart as he wants, “cum in my mouth,” he murmurs, “wanna fucking live in his pussy,” 
And you’re coming undone, fast and hard, but he doesn’t seem to care, slurping and sucking every drop you bestow upon him, “I know where I got my sweet tooth now,” and he’s still eating you through your orgasm, as you shudder and shiver from his touch. 
“Fuck, ‘Toru, I swear to god-“
“I’m right here baby, you don’t have to swear your allegiance to me,” and he’s licking his fingers clean, making a show of it, “pretty sure you did that when you screamed my name when you came,” 
“You fucker,” and he’s giving you lazy kisses again, trying to bring you down from your high, just to bring you back up again, and you’re palming his erection now, “need you,” 
“What was that?” And he’s so smarmy, it makes you want to slap him or kiss him or possibly both, “say it again,” 
And then you squeeze his dick, making him grunt, “I said I need you,” and you’re brushing the head of his cock against your folds, again and again, making him groan, “any questions sensei?” You add mockingly, but that only serves to make him grin wider. 
“So fuckin’ eager for me to split you open with my dick huh, Princess?” His pre-cum dripping onto your fucked out pussy, “can’t go a second without being filled by me? I know sweetheart, I hit all the spots you can’t reach with your fingers right? Bet all those others can’t reach them either,” and he’s kissing you, hard, as he presses his cock into you, bumping against you, but never slipping in, “then I’ll just have to spoil you tonight, won’t I?” He notches himself against your slit, his traitorous mouth leaning down to suck at your tit before he finally eases into you. 
And you forgot just how big he was, as he finally sinks into you, his cock parting your folds, impatient as ever as he sinks slowly at first and than all at once, “you can still take me, and you always take me so well,” he groans, as your walls squeeze him, nearly making him cum right there, “you were made for me, made to fuck me,” he’s panting now, as you’re ready to fall apart under him. 
“Then fuck me,” and he does just that - no semblance of self-control left - not that he had much to begin with. Not when it came to you.  
He loves hearing you moan his name, over and over, as he begins to thrust in earnest, hips slapping against yours, making you gasp and your head roll back, “Satoru, Satoru, fuck-“ 
“Come on baby you can take it, look at how good you’re taking me, such a good girl,” and he grasps your chin making you look at where your bodies met, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease, a white ring of your cum around its base, “that’s it, c’mon, you make me feel so fucking good,” 
And then he’s slipping out of you, as you whines but now he’s pulled you into his lap, “baby, I can’t be doing all the work, now can I?” 
His thighs are sticky and wet with your fluids, as you start to ride him, your thighs meeting his with rough snaps, “So fucking gorgeous,” he groans, leaning in to suck at your tits again, “I’ll never get sick of this view, need to fuck you like this again,” and he meets you with a brutal thrust of his hips as he grasps your waist that brushes against places you only could dream to touch, and he grins as your head lolls back, “there is it, just where I left it, Princess,” 
“S’close, ‘Toru, I can’t-“ you murmur, as he cups your cheek and presses a hot kiss to your lips. 
“Then cum for me on my dick like a good little slut, and scream for me, make sure my neighbors know how good this cock is,” and he’s grasping your waist, fucking tou hard as you cum around his cock, and you scream his name as you do, but he fucks you through your orgasm, grunting and groaning. Your release slips down his dick as you squeeze him, “good fucking girl,” He’s close too - his thrusts becoming deeper and sloppy, “where you want me to cum?” 
And your legs are wrapping around his waist, “Fill me, want it inside,” and Satoru can't help but moans your name. 
He's grunting, sloppily thrusting now -- he's so close, your walls clamping down again and again, “Want me to breed you, sweetheart,” he grunts, bottoming out, “then let me fill you, fuck-“ he moans as he cums, spurting his hot, thick cum inside your walls, and you’re nearly keening against him, but he holds you steady with his fingers against your hips, nails digging crescents into your skin, “gotta make every drop count, now don’t we, love?” As he slowly pumps into you, pushing it deeper, “now what’d people say when you get pregnant by your ex? Hm? Wanna baby trap me, princess? You don’t have to do that to get me to stay,” 
And he’s still inside you as he stills, cupping your chin, “I don’t huh?” You tilt your head, as he presses a kiss to your lips, “then why did you leave in the first place?” 
His grin twists into a frown, sighing, as he can't meet your gaze now, “Did you really want to be with me?” And you open your mouth, “being with me is as good as placing a target on your back, and I’m not always going to here to help-“ 
You glare at him, “I don’t need you to protect me—"
“Except the one time you do,” he says softly, “and then what? I could deal with losing you, but I don't ever want to have to mourn you," his words are quiet, "we’ve both lost too much-" and his voice wavers, “I didn’t want you to be another thing I lost, but you were anyway,” and he gives a small chuckle, “I didn’t wanna end up alone, but without you, I’m still alone,” he gives a pitiful smile, “fitting for the strongest, huh?” 
You hold his cheeks, forcing him to look at you, “You don’t have to be alone. I can’t make promises that I’ll be okay - that would be a pretty shit promise to make, we both know that, but,” you kiss his lips sweetly, the corners of his lips lifting at your taste, “I can promise I’ll do my best to live, I’ll do my best to support you, I’ll do my best to love you - if you can promise to do the same,”
And his lips crack into a grin, “Love, huh?” 
“You’ve grown on me,” you tease, but he can’t let that stand. And he shifts his hips, making you moan, as he lays you down, slipping out of you, to smear his cockhead down your folds, watching you convulse around nothing as his cum slips out of you, “Satoru—fuck-“ and his fingers are scooping the liquid back inside, pushing it back in, “what are you doing?” you grumble, half annoyed, half moaning. 
And he only smiles, “Gotta make up for lost time, don’t we princess?” And he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your lips, before reaching for his phone, “now let me take a picture — gotta let Nanami know someone appreciated my drawing.” 
“You send that picture, and we won’t need to worry about me surviving anymore, because I’ll have killed you,” and he rolls his eyes, snapping the picture anyway. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t send him this picture, that’s for my personal use,” he winks as he slips his fingers from you, licking your mixed releases from his digits, “but I’ll let him know how much you enjoyed it,” and he’s leaning over you again, “and how much you will again,” 
“And every night?” You smile up at him, pulling him closer. 
And he replies before you pull him into another kiss, “Only way to shut me up.” 
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 9 months
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Oh No, There's An Arm Around My Waist
Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader  2k words
summary: You wake up in the same bed as Bradley Bradshaw. That's it. Or is it?
tagging a few people who said they'd like a part two... it took me a while but whatever, right? @roostergooster @pono-pura-vida @chassy21 @startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs
sequel to “Oh No, There's Only One Bed”, can be read seperately tho
top gun masterlist
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The light that filtered through the windows was golden, almost, warm and comfortable and you were cozy and sleepy and smiling, giving yourself all the time in the world to wake up. You blinked your eyes open slowly and tugged the covers all the way up to your chin and shimmied a little further down into the warmth of the bed and for just a few seconds, enjoyed the feeling of being pulled closer.
Then you ripped open your eyes again and froze to the very tips of your toes.
You were being pulled closer.
There was an arm around your waist, a body behind yours, breath on your neck. And with a start, the events of last night came rushing back to you.
The booked out hotel. The one bedroom. The one bed. Bradley. Bradley's words, Bradley's touches, Bradley's goddamn pajama-briefs. That you hadn't been able to fall asleep. The way he'd hugged you close. How you'd almost confessed your feelings to him.
Those fucking feelings. Those feelings you'd kept buried inside of you for so long, so goddamn long that you had never even thought to tell another living, breathing human being. Not your family, not your squad, nobody because hell, Bradley was a friend, he was your friend, and nothing more than that.
But now here you were, wrapped up tightly in his arms in the same bed. And he was only moving closer. Pushing closer to you, pulling you closer to him, burying his face in your hair and splaying his hand out on your stomach.
So maybe - just maybe - there was a teensy tinsy part of your friendship that was more than a friendship. Had perhaps always been more than a friendship. Longing glances you'd always put off as looking out for each other. Kisses on the cheek. Kisses on the forehead. Kisses on your hair. His arm around your waist, around your shoulders. Things you'd played off as him just being generally affectionate. But maybe that hadn't been it. Maybe that wasn't it. Maybe those moments when you'd almost kissed, maybe they'd been real, not just figments of your imagination - like after deadly missions, stumbling into each others arms, or slow dancing the night of Mav's wedding, or that one time in the jacuzzi.
You didn't know just how long you were lying there, on your side, trying to steady your breathing and keep as calm and as quiet as possible, not moving an inch. You didn't want to know. Your thoughts were running in circles, pondering the same questions again and again and each time arriving at different conclusions. A part of you was screaming to do something. Anything. But that probably would've been mental suicide. So you kept still and hoped, begged, prayed to all gods you could think of that this wasn't some dream and that your imagination was not off pranking you right now.
Finally - it had to have been at least half an hour - Bradley shifted behind you. He groaned, pushed away from you just the tiniest bit, pulled his arm from around you and brought his hand up to shield him from the sun.
"Good morning", he muttered, all deep, raspy morning voice, instantly sending a shiver down your spine. You didn't trust yourself to turn around just then - maybe he wasn't pressed into your back anymore but that didn't mean that he wasn't still way too close.
"How'd you know I'm awake?", you asked instead, already missing his warmth (even though the room certainly wasn't cold).
"I've got a sixth sense when it comes to you", he chuckled. He'd turned onto his side again and was talking to you, directly (indirectly? to the back of your head?) now, and you'd known him long enough that you were well aware of it. And well aware of the fact that he'd stare at you until you turned around to him no matter how long it took. He was stubborn like that. So you did turn, even closer to him now, folding your hands between cheek and pillow and biting your lip to ground you just the slightest. To remind you that this was still reality. That all of this was happening to you right now.
That Bradley was, in fact, lying on his pillow next to you, with adorable bed hair and a cheeky smile and a bare torso and way too few inches in between you. You could feel yourself tense up again.
"Like you knew tonight that I wasn't falling asleep?", you asked, a bit breathless.
Bradley nodded.
"Exactly like that."
"Well, thank you then." You couldn't help but smile at him a little. "I slept like a baby."
He laughed at that and for a second you closed your eyes and just soaked up the sound. You could very well imagine always waking up next to him like that. With his laughter fanning against your cheek, his fingers softly running up your arm almost as though he thought that if he did it slowly enough, you wouldn't find anything strange about it.
You didn't.
It wasn't strange, per se. It was new and electrifying and encouraging you in your (childish? foolish?) belief that maybe, yes, maybe you were more than a friend to him as well. Maybe he was testing the waters. Maybe he was going further already. Touching you like that, it was... bold. Wasn't it?
Maybe you had to be a little bolder as well. Just the way you'd wanted to tonight.
So you pulled a hand from underneath your cheek and, tentatively, very deliberately, brushed through his curls, all the while heavily avoiding looking him in the eyes. You could feel the way he was staring at you, burning holes into your skin, but you just pushed through and ignored him as best as you could. You were already feeling too close to passing out.
When you pulled your hand back, his fingers had reached your shoulder, dancing along the spaghetti straps of your nightdress, and you took a deep breath in before you allowed yourself to meet his eyes after all.
"Sorry", you whispered, getting a little more nervous now. "You had a bedhead."
Bradley made a sound in the back of his throat that you couldn't quite identify as any particular emotion.
"No apologising", he muttered, his eyes falling down to his fingers on your skin as he sneaked his way up over the covers and brushed his thumb along your throat, your chin, your jaw. "Just do it again."
You swallowed hard. But who were you to deny him? So despite your racing heart and despite your screaming mind, you reached out and tangled your fingers in his curls again. You were sure now he was on the same wavelength as you. Right? He had to be. This wasn't platonic behaviour. This was nowhere close to platonic. Was it? And if not... What were you supposed to do with that information? What did it mean? Had Bradley liked you, too, for just as long? For longer? How much time, how much relationship had you missed out on because you'd been too afraid to act on your feelings? How would you go from here? You couldn't... You wouldn't... Would you?
"You need to stop thinking so much", Bradley said softly, pulling you gently from your thoughts back to reality - of his thumb smoothing over your skin, of your fingers in his hair, of his breath on your cheek and the warmth of his body. "It's alright just to act once a while."
You had to smile a bit because he'd learnt that from Mav, but you didn't feel the need to remind him. Maybe he was right. Your overthinking had rarely ever helped you. But, well, it was quite hard to get rid of an old habit, wasn't it? And were you brave enough to leave it behind just this once?
With that smile of his... Maybe.
"Okay", you said. "If you say so. Then kiss me."
Bradley's eyes widened for just a millisecond before his lips twitched into a grin and he leaned forward - leaned in, closer to you, and your breath caught in your throat and your hand stilled in his hair and his thumb on your jaw settled to keep you in place. And then his lips met yours and the entire world came to a halt.
This was perfect. He was perfect. He'd always been, but his kisses... Oh god, his kisses. What had you been missing out on? You could've had this forever. He was working magic on you, you were sure, because no one should be allowed to kiss this good, to make you feel this weak in your knees even though you were lying down, to make you tense up and relax at the same time. It was truly like time had stopped, for just a few minutes - neither of you dared to move, too engrossed in the moment, too enamoured with each other.
It turned into slow-motion at some point. You didn't know just when. It melted into golden honey, thick and heavy and heady. You could really feel yourself heat up now, feel the warmth of him seeping into you, of your own cheeks flaring red. You could feel every particle of your body react to him as he cupped your jaw and pulled you closer, as you pulled your hand from his hair to move up and down his arm, to lightly press your nails into his skin.
Maybe it was that, your nails raking along his biceps, that flicked some switch in Bradley, but you didn't know for sure and you didn't care as his tongue ran along your bottom lip, asking for consent, asking if- and your lips parted without hesitance, with a soft, low sigh, with your nails digging into his arm because that seemed to have had a wonderful reaction the first time. He pulled you closer, closer, closer, pulled his hand from your cheek and grabbed your waist instead to pull you even closer, closer, closer there too.
You trailed your fingers down his arm as well, abandoning your scratching in favor of softly stroking, giving yourself time because oh, you had all the damn time in the world with him, to reach the back of his hand, to wrap your fingers around it (your pinky touched his pinky and you had to smile into the kiss, despite how hot and bothered you were getting) and slid your other hand back up into his hair to tug on his roots. Then, just because you could and just because you wanted to, you pushed his hand from your waist over your hips and down to the top of your thigh, right where your nightdress ended. You could feel Bradley's fingers flexing, gripping just a little tighter now that he had naked skin under his fingertips. That was all the confirmation you needed to bring his hand up again, to slide it softly, carefully, slowly over your underwear, your nightdress bunching up above his arm, until he was holding right onto your waist again - onto the naked skin of your waist, just because he could and just because you wanted him to.
That was when he pulled back, his forehead still pressed against yours, his eyes still closed, his fingers still tight on your waist.
"Fuck", he muttered, breathless and panting. "We should probably stop before this goes too far."
"There's a too far?", you asked, just as breathless and just as panting.
"With you?" He opened his eyes to look right at you, his thumb brushing over your skin again. "Of course not. But this is a hotel room and we're on borrowed time and most importantly, we just had our first kiss. I'd like to take you out on an actual date first."
Your heart stopped beating for a second. Then it started hammering. Blood rushed to your ears and you heard a frantic ringing and you had to close your eyes and bite down on your lip and then open your eyes again just to make sure that this was, in fact, all still reality, and that it was indeed happening, unfolding as it did. That Bradley was here with you, that he'd touched and kissed you, that he wanted to take you out on a date.
"I'd like that", you whispered finally. "I'd really like that."
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yourdoorisunlocked · 3 months
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I'll Never Meet Another You - Part 1
📺 【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 】📺
𝐀/𝐍: Is that...? Oh my god- It's the sound of another WIP in my endless void of fanfic ideas that managed to see the light of day!! It also means I've added another demon husband to my ✨cOlLeCtIoN✨
So, I'm definitely doing a continuation of this- I was having WAY too much fun writing it.
Enjoy your yandere, stalking, creepy-ass television man! :)
. . .
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏,𝟒𝟏𝟓 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐯, 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴛᴀɴɢᴏ | ᴀᴜᴛᴏʜᴇᴀʀᴛ
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. . .
Electricity bounced across clawed, neon-blue fingertips as Vox’s collection of monitors booted up, lining the walls in a cyan-hued excess of the latest tech his company manufactured.  
With but a wave of his hand, the devices were slaves to his command. 
As Vox sat upon his electronic throne that was centered before it all, he closed every work-related tab within his mental browser, before slumping in his seat within the darkness. The demon rubbed where the bridge of his nose would’ve been with a stressed crease in his brows; a little habit that he had acquired from his life above.  
To say it had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century. For the first twelve hours since he had emerged from his quarters, Vox had been bombarded with underlings shoving incessant workloads into his lap.
Ensuring the reputation of the Vees, the new VoxTech Angelic Security system that he had been developing, the countless amount of paperwork and maintaining the digital grid, and to top it all off, he had to manage the temper of one pissed-off Valentino. 
Ugh... Fuckin' Val and his goddamn runaways... it's not my fucking fault he can't manage his toys. 
Dealing with the lustful moth Overlord's temper tantrums were usually the absolute highlights of Vox's day, but this time in particular there was quite the treat in store for the overworked Overlord.
Hm... Maybe that's how the name came to be. Ah, who am I kidding? Velv just sits on her ass all day.
Of course, Vox pushed his indignation aside and swept everything up with a winning smile of pure showmanship, the pinnacle of excellence in front of the public.
And just as everything seemed to fall into place, like any other day of Vox cleaning up the messes of his fellow Overlords, something just had to go fucking wrong.
Imagine being the literal fucking backbone of the Vees, ensuring that their picture-perfect reputation of utmost excellence and being called up by an irritated Velvet to play babysitter and manage the man-child because of fucking Angel Dust- 
And then catching wind of ḧ̴͇͕́̍i̷̡̹͋͂̓m̵͈͔̳̭̙̍͝ returning... 
A few sparks flew from Vox's antenna as his overheated fans whirred rapidly. That old timey, triangle-assed p̴̲̩̮͙̜̎́̋r̸͓̟͆̀͆i̸̼͕͓̺̹̪̔͛͊̋͗c̸̢̤̐͂͜k̵̻̭̦̣̪͈̕-̸̢̡̪͇̖̈́... 
Slowly, he took a deep breath, stretching his knuckles and tilting his head to the side with a deep frown. He had the evening to himself, now. No Radio-Pricks, no need to maintain the perfect facade he had so carefully crafted for himself and his allies, and no Valentino.
Time to unwind... 
A cup of coffee materialized in his hand with a spark of electricity that lingered around his hand, dancing upon his fingers. He scooted just a bit closer to the large, main monitor within the center of TVs installed in his office, and his mental request was immediately answered by the large computer screen before him. 
A zipped file containing possibly the most sensitive information that you couldn’t fucking torture out of the television demon happened to be the very first result of his search, almost teasing him with the overtness of his little obsession. 
Vox clicked on the file quicker than ever before, and he took a long, slow sip of his drink as he focused solely upon the pretty little blessing that had graced his screens since a few months ago.
You were lounging on your couch, scrolling haphazardly on your phone in your less-than ideal apartment, but hey, it worked for you, so who was Vox to judge? Even if he would've placed you in one of the most mind-bogglingly extravagant penthouses that you'd ever seen in your afterlife, he had no qualms as long as you remained untouched. 
And luckily, his position and occupation made it more than easy to ensure that you had no one in particular in mind to take his place. 
No matter where you were, or what you were doing, nothing about you remained unseen by Vox, and no stone was left unturned when it came to your private life. 
And Vox was always there. Watching. Adoring you through digitally enamored eyes without moving an inch from his seat. 
Small, pixelated hearts floated across his interface as you looked through your phone, blessing him with a plethora of reactions. Whether it be with a small pout of your lips, to the furrow of your brows, to that cute giggle-snort you made whenever something seemed funny to you, the electronic Overlord drank it up like red wine from a golden cup glorified by gods themselves.
Lord, Vox had it bad.
Every step you took, every breath you inhaled, every purchase you made, every club or restaurant you went to, your exact order at your favorite diner, your taste in fashion and jewelry, he memorized every fact, photo, and video and saved it all in a private file.  
It was Vox's most precious possession, the closest he could ever get to you, for now.
Vox’s smile stretched across his flat-screen face; a neon hue of razor-sharp teeth pulled into a fond simper as the sound of your chiming laughter rang out across his office. 
How he wished to capture the sound, perhaps place it into a bottle for him, and only him to hear, your smile a treasure of the rarest quality to keep. 
There was no doubt about it, Vox was your number one fan. 
More monitors across the room lit up, whether it be with your beautiful face or your soft, angelic singing, there was nothing but you, you... 
Y̵̼̜̿o̴̝͕̾ṷ̸̇.̶͈͍̎̔ ̵̟̒̚ 
Vox hated the idea of having to share this with anyone else. Share you with anyone else. Every time he ended the night like this, he had to fight the urge to steal you away and seat you upon your rightful place, a throne beside his, towering above his empire with no unworthy, sinful eyes to look upon you. 
“Huh... I’ve actually always wondered what that ‘Vox’ guy is like in real life...” said demon froze at the sound of his name pouring from your lips, and a soft blush mixed with the bright blue glow of his face, coloring it a light lavender pink. You were talking to yourself again, something Vox binged like a talk show whenever he was off work.  
He could watch you all day like this. And God knows that he would massacre any number of demons, conquer any area of territory simply for a few minutes in your presence.
A casual conversation, witty banter, fuck, he'd rather talk about the goddamn weather with you than be deprived of your presence any longer. Not behind a screen, but in person.
Vox needed something, anything with you, romantic or platonic, though the former would surely grow an insatiable craving, if you kept teasing him like this.
He needed you to be there for him, to just treat him like a person.
Vox normally wouldn't mind the fact that he was always perfecting himself for others, catering to their every desire. A machine. Meant to serve the masses, and in turn, they'd fall to their feet before him like flies to honey, insatiable, pathetic worms. 
But it'd drive anyone to the brink of fucking insanity, to keep up the same, cheery yet suave charade every draining day.
And with you? Even if you never knew about your secret admirer’s ever-prying eyes watching your every step, it felt like Vox didn't need to put on a show for you. He could simply watch and listen as you, sweet, mischievous, lovable you talked his ears off for the rest of his day.
What I'd give to just kiss the hell out of her-
“Heh, he’s actually kind of cute. Y’know, for a TV, I guess...” you giggled at the end of your sentence as you scrolled through more photos of him, drinking up every piece of content that featured the demon that was watching you through your camera.  
A little side-menu of exactly what you had been looking through immediately popped up, and an intense zapping noise from above signaled to Vox that, once again, the demon was two seconds away from overheating and having to reboot himself as he nearly spit out his hot drink. 
Vox nearly short-circuited in his seat as you smiled warmly down at your phone, directly into his eyes as his cold, mechanical heart pounded in his chest, and bright red spread across his screen like a virus.
“Oh... Ohoho...” 
“Now that’s good television...” 
. . .
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End Notes: Ok, holy SHIT-
I really like this one. Like GODDAMN this was so fun to write!! I'll definitely be doing headcanons for yandere Hazbin Hotel very soon. Also, that A03 shit I just pulled at the end? You're welcome ;)
Btw I'm working on my Masterlist, so if anyone has requests or drabbles that they'd like to enter, don't be afraid to ask! I think I'll make some rules clear later, like no EXTREME asks or kinks or anything like that.
Smut is on the table though don't be afraid lmao. I'll be the one shaking in my boots when I'm about to post it- 😓
Anyway, thanks for reading!! See you next time✨
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hanwiore · 9 months
Text
eren is such a perv
Grey sweatpants down to his nike socks where his toes curled on his carpeted bedroom floor. Ethika boxers squeezing his tensing thighs as the bottom of his hoodie was held between his straight white teeth. One of his hands holding his phone which held a video of your two-toned fat, wet pussy lips being separated with you classic french sets, and goddamn. His promise ring his gave you shining against the dim light in your bedroom. But his other hand?
Stroking his thick long veiny dick, the dick thats so sensitive and sporting major pre-cum that he knows you’ll suck up out of him. “Oh shit.” He moaned, muffled by his thick cotton hoodie, stroking his shit faster while you started rubbing ridiculous circles on your puffy clit, wetness dripping out of your pulsing hole. “O-oh my god mama- shit!” Eren eyes close but opened just as fast, squeezing his thick dick in his hands, clear pre cum sliding down his shaky fingers.
He just started but the way his stomach tensed and the way his balls pulled forward he knew he was finna nut.
All it took was a “ohhh daddy!” And squirt coming through your fingers and sliding down on your fluffy pink blanket did his hips stuttered up and whines of pleasure fall from his lips when his cum shoots out and slides down his abdomen. “Fuck- fuckk baby.”
Still so horny, he couldn’t help but press the FaceTime logo.
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exhaslo · 3 months
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OMG HI IM BACK I HOPE UR HYDRATED
FAST AND FURIOUS MIGUEL AND READER WHERE THEY’RE RIDE OR DIE, STREET RACING WHERE MIGGY WINS AND GETS HIS PRIZE IN THE BACKSEAT OF HIS OLD 2000s MODELED SUZUKI ?????
NEVER WATCHED A SINGLE FAST AND FURIOUS
BUT I'M NEVER ONE TO BACK DOWN ON A GOOD OL' BACKSEAT RIDE OR DIE CAR SEX HAHAHA
Sorry this was so late to be posted. I'm still backed up with requests from last month!
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, car sex, fingering
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There was never a dull moment in the city of Nueva York. Every street had something to offer, no matter the time of day. From the sunrise to even past the sunset. There was a reason why this city was given the name, 'The city that never sleeps'.
Amongst its citizens was you. A lovely night owl, just gearing up to be entertained by your fantastic boyfriend. Honestly, this was something that you had never thought of as entertaining. Car racing in the middle of the city was what kept you up most nights...
But Miguel showed you otherwise.
That man was going to drive you insane. When you first met him, you swore that all he cared about was his car. He treated it more like a woman than you sometimes, but...you opened up to his point of view. You saw how much Miguel cared about both you and his night life activities.
That, and he was goddamn hot when working on his 'baby'. Miguel was a mechanic during the day and one of the best street racers at night. You on the other hand just worked a normal office job; however, you easily became one of the most popular flag girls for the race.
"Amor (love), are you trying to temp me before the race?" Miguel said with a low hum as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
You felt your cheeks fluster as Miguel pressed you against the wall. His kisses against the back of your neck were sweet and hungry. With a soft press of his hips, you felt Miguel's erection right into your booty shorts.
"Miguel, this is what the other flag girls told me to wear," You said with a soft whine, turning around in his grip, "They mentioned something about a special prize I'll be offering."
"Hn," Miguel grunted lowly as he glanced at the time, "Whatever prize it maybe, this body is only meant for me to see."
"Haha, they're just booty shorts. I haven't worn something like this in such a long time."
"And the tight tank top?" Miguel rested his head by your breasts, inhaling deeply, "Ay dios mio (oh my god), I better win this race and fast so I can tend to you."
You chuckled at Miguel's possessiveness. Pecking his lips, you stroked his cheeks, rubbing against the small gruff he had growing. Miguel pouted and quickly went to clean and shave. Sometimes he forgot about himself when he worked.
Once ready, you scooted yourself into Miguel's passenger seat. Miguel leaned over to land a deep kiss against your lips before driving off to the event sight.
You remembered the first time he let you in his, 'baby'. You were confused as to why he took so much care of an old 2000s Suzuki. Miguel gave you quite a story when he explained everything in detail. How even the smallest mod could change the way he drives.
There were a lot of do's and don'ts in his car too. You followed them since you knew how much Miguel cared about his car. Glancing at his backseat, you wondered what Miguel was working on there. He had been making some changes and improvements that always left you curious.
"Alright, make sure you wave that flag extra high for me when I win," Miguel said with a low chuckle as you got out of his car.
"Hopefully the prize is just as good."
"I could always use some more parts," Miguel hummed and winked towards you before driving off to the others.
You smiled brightly as you hurried to the other girls. This was going to be a first for you. Taking part in Miguel's hobby made you happy. The other girls giggled towards you as led you to the starting line. Everyone cheered once you all arrived.
"Shake that ass!!" Some of the men in the crowd cheered.
You felt your face burn up and looked around for Miguel. Once you found him, you giggled towards the glare he gave to the crowd. This was probably going to be the last time you became a flag girl. Miguel was far too possessive of you to have men drool.
"Alriiiiight, who's ready for tonight's race?!" The announcer yelled out, followed by a wave of cheers, "We got a special prize today! Been a while since we've gotten a new flag girl, so you all know what this means!"
"Trophy! Trophy! Trophy!"
"Thaaaaat's right! (Y/N) will be the delicious trophy for today's prize! Here that racers! You get a special night with our lovely (Y/N)!"
You felt your face pale as you tried to ask the other girls what the announcer meant. They all just smiled and reassured you that it was fun and no harm done. You knew better. Staring at Miguel, you frowned as you saw the scorn on his face.
Miguel hurriedly got in his car and revved up the engine. You trusted Miguel, so you had faith that he was going to win, but if he didn't...Miguel might end up fighting someone.
-------
Miguel was beyond furious. He knew that some of these races got a little out of hand, but to use you as a prize? Cussing lowly as he gripped the wheel, Miguel slammed the gas petal once the flag was raised. He refused to let anyone else have you.
Hearing another engine rev, Miguel hissed as he saw his main competition catch up to him. The nerve! Gripping onto the stick shift, Miguel just smirked as he decided to go full out. He had to show these people that he was number one for a goddamn reason!
-------
You were shaking in your seat as you watched the race from one of the monitors. Biting your thumb, you nearly whimpered as some of the other racers came a little too close to Miguel. Miguel was still far in the lead, but it didn't stop you from worrying.
After another few go arounds, you gasped in awe as Miguel took the victory once again. Unable to contain your excitement, you rushed over to your boyfriend as the announcer cheered him on.
"Are you ready for you-Oh, hey, wait! We're not done!"
You were giggling to yourself as Miguel carried you with in and threw you in his car before driving off. Glancing back at the annoyed announcer, you cheered and wrapped your arms around Miguel's neck from the back seat.
"I was so worried! No one told me I was going to be the prize!" You said with a soft whine. Miguel kissed your hand as he drove to a remote spot,
"Neither did I, babe. I wasn't going to let anyone win." He grumbled as he parked, "But, since I did. I should claim my prize."
You raised a brow before laughing as Miguel made his way to the backseat. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled as you gave him light kisses around his face. Miguel hummed in response before licking your lips.
You parted your lips for him, moaning softly as Miguel ravished your mouth with his tongue. His hands roaming your upper body, slowly sliding your top off. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold AC from the car hit your exposed nipples.
"Are you sure you want to do it here?" You asked, humming softly as Miguel kissed your neck.
"Made sure its comfortable," Was all he said as he started to rub your clit through your pants, "But, can't make a mess in here."
You whimpered in response, arching your back as Miguel licked your breasts. His tongue swirling around your nipple as his rough movements against your clit made you tremble. You grabbed onto his arms, trying to balance yourself as you moved your hips.
Miguel grunted in response as he undid your shorts, throwing them on the ground. He proceeded to bite and suck against your nipples while his fingers went under your panties and circled against your sensitive bud.
"M-Mig~"
"So wet already for me." Miguel chuckled as you moaned, "If you make a mess in my car baby, I'll have to punish you."
"I-I won't." You whimpered, tugging against his arms.
You shuddered in pleasure as Miguel moved his fingers down to your cunt. It was hard for you to move since Miguel's body was pressing you into his seat. Another whimper of a moan escaped your lips as you felt him play with your folds before slowly entering a finger into your pussy.
"Miguel~" You cried out, throwing your head back.
Your moans grew louder as you felt your loving boyfriend pump his thick digits into your core. His tongue still against your breasts, sucking against them. You body was burning up, shaking and ready to burst...but you couldn't make a mess.
Part of you wanted to cum all over his seat and take the punishment, but the other part of you was enjoying Miguel's game. Gasping as Miguel entered another finger, you moaned loudly as he curled his fingers into your gummy core.
You finally burst when you felt his fingers press against your sweet spot. Crying out his name, you panted softly as Miguel pulled his fingers out. His smirk was wide as he licked his fingers clean, holding your hips up.
"Good girl, keeping my baby clean." He said with a low chuckle.
"Mhpm," You nodded and trembled as Miguel slowly pressed his tip inside your hole, "M-Miguel~"
"You're doing so good." He hummed, slowly pushing himself deeper inside you, "Always taking me in so well."
"Mig~ Miguel~" You cried out, feeling him fill you.
You squirmed in place, clenching against Miguel's dick as he furthered entered you. You could never get over the feeling of Miguel splitting you open, filling you to the very brim. His dick always bruising your cervix, giving you a reason to stay in bed for days.
"That's my girl," Miguel hummed as he sat his dick nice and deep inside of you.
You whined in response, reaching out for Miguel to move. He kissed your hands once more before starting his ruthless charade of thrusts. You cried and moaned as the car shook under you. Miguel's cock was slamming into your wet cunt, claiming you as his.
Arching your back as Miguel bullied his cock into you, you cried out a series of moans as you felt your orgasm approach again. Miguel held your hips, slapping himself into you. The sounds of your bodies echoing throughout the small car.
"Keep it in, baby. No messes," Miguel grunted as you came again.
You gasped and shuddered as Miguel changed positions, placing you on top of his lap. His grip was tight on your ass as he made you bounce against his cock. Pressing your chest against his, you whined as Miguel gave you his first load of cum..
"Good girl," Miguel hummed. You rested your head against his chest, your pussy sucking his cock dry,
"D-Don't bully me too much," You whimpered. Miguel stroked your cheek, kissing you deeply,
"I'm just claiming my beautiful prize," He teased, holding your hips as you started bouncing on him again, "Maybe we can make this an every victory reward?"
"Ah~ Mhm~ Y-Yes~" You moaned, panting heavily as you felt drawn into pleasure, "I-I'll reward you....for each win~"
"And if I lose?" Miguel asked, pinching your clit. You cried, cumming against him once more on the spot,
"T-Then...I'll ah~....mhm...c-console you."
"Awe, what did I do to deserve you?" Miguel chuckled, pressing you against his seat before pounding you from behind, "I'll reward you too, baby. You did cheer me on."
"Yes~ Yes!" You cried as Miguel bottomed out inside you, "M-Miguel~" You whimpered.
Miguel chuckled as he pulled out, using his fingers to keep his cum inside your abused cunt. You shivered in response and whined as Miguel put your clothes back on.
"No messes. Keep me inside." He whispered in your ear. You shivered in response and nodded,
"...So...When's the next race?"
"In an hour."
Your face turned bright red as Miguel roared in laughter. He kissed you once more before returning to the driver's seat, making his way back to the event sight. You behaved and sat in the back seat, anticipating his upcoming win.
You just had to make sure not to make a mess in his car.
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I hope you enjoyed!!!!!!!
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