#I SHOW UP WITH HEART ABLAZING

[solarisbeam]

This was actually going to be a sketch..but ahem...I guess not anymore-

But yeah, Cass!!!!!! YIPPPEEE!!!!!!

[yandere-writer-momo]

Thinking about a yandere werewolf, but not just any werewolf… a bounty hunter. And he has it bad for his you. Cowboy Werewolf!

Yandere Shorts: Like I Love You

Yandere werewolf x fem reader

TW: obsession, delusional themes, abo dynamic, horror, gore (mentioned), death of characters, neglectful husband, betrayal, cheating husband, forced relationship, mention of baby trapping, and behavior that should not be romanticized

Rolfe was currently on a hunt… his target is a sickly preacher’s, one that should be easy enough. Her own husband had paid him quite the pretty penny to off her. Poor little lamb didn’t stand a chance in the wilderness of this world. Not when she had enemies close to her side such as an unfaithful husband and a conniving best friend. He almost felt sorry for his prey

He arrived a day later, his clawed fingers dragged through a lock of her hair as he inhaled her scent. She smelled… delicious. And she was so vulnerable too with her nape out that just begged for his teeth to be driven into…

Rolfe shook his head before he went back into a trance when she subconsciously leaned into his touch. His hand moved up and grazed her temple that felt as if it were ablaze. Poor woman had a fever…

“Darling? Did you finally come to me?” Her voice was a bit delirious with sickness as she kissed his hands. Each kiss made him feel as if he was her beloved. It took everything in him not to loudly whine like a dog. “I missed you so much James. I’m sorry I got sick again.”

Rolfe didn’t say a word before he continued to drag his rough palms through her hair. His heart hammered in his chest and his wolf clawed inside his brain to be released. It seemed this woman before him… was his fated mate.”

Rolfe bent down and buried his nose into the crook of her neck to deeply inhaled. Oh yes… this lassy was his for the takin.

Rolfe began to slowly nurse her back to health rather than off her. An action that made his employer question him. Why on earth would a monster nurse such a nuisance back to health? She was always near death’s door. What use was such a delicate woman in the Wild West?

“When are you going to off (your name)? She’s an easy target.”

“I have honor as a bounty hunter. It must be a hunt.” Rolfe snarled at (your name)’s husband, James, the man who dared to keep her sick due to his lack of care. Had that scrawny man have no pride as a man? The pastor made him sick.

“She’s easy to pick off right now. I’d really like this to be over and done with so I can marry Helen. This is why I hired a monster-“ Rolfe picked James up from the ground by his throat as James gasped for air.

“You are a foolish, greedy man. Are you sure you are truly a man of god?” Rolfe growled, showing his fangs. His dark, muscular form largely towered over James’s lithe frame. “You’re a pathetic man.”

Rolfe soon went back to the care of (your name). The werewolf rubbed his cheeks all over her bed and her body to scent her… he needed to get rid of James’s scent. Rolfe wouldn’t let another have her and hurt her again… he’d spirit her away.

Rolfe wondered how many pups she’d want. If they’d be pretty like her but strong like him… if she’d pepper him with nips and kisses everyday. If she’d beg him for his knot on the next full moon as he properly mated her?

“Darling?” (Your name) reached for his face and Rolfe was quick to put his face in them. A needy whine escaped his throat while he nuzzled her. She was his precious mate…

He snarled when he saw Helen enter. The woman scoffed at him in disgust.

“Ugh. James and I are tired of waiting. You have been here over a month! We want you gone beast. We’ll do it ourselves.”

“So you’re cancelling the contract?” He hummed while he continued to tenderly kiss (your name)‘a palms. “Are you sure? Did you read the fine print?”

“Yes. We don’t need your kind here, true love will prevail-“ Helen didn’t even have time to scream before a giant black wolf hybrid had dug it’s fangs into her throat and ripped it apart like wrapping paper. Blood splattered all over the floor and walls as Helen could only helplessly choke on her own blood.

“Yes… true love will prevail.” He muttered with a a satisfied hum. “My mate will be so happy.”

Meanwhile, James fled into the forest for dear life. That beast had gotten Helen! The two of them couldn’t believe the werewolf would turn on him.

James loudly leapt when he heard something large chase him through the underbrush on all fours. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and feel his sweat pool down his back in puddles. He needed to get to the church! A demon such as the bounty hunter couldn’t possibly enter there-

But James was knocked to the ground as an agonized shriek fell from his lips. The werewolf began to shake and mangle his leg like the bloodthirsty beast it was…

“Let me go! Let me go! I didn’t do anything-“

Rolfe chuckled darkly. The black werewolf dropped his legs and glanced his beastly head at James. “Oh but she never did anything either… all she did was foolishly love you.”

“W-what do you mean? Are you talking about-“ James’s words were muffled by the paw like hand that covered his mouth. Rolfe shushed him.

“Shhh. You may have failed to pay me and cancel my contract but I had gotten something far more valuable from this transaction. Something most werewolves dream to find in their lifetimes… a fated mate!” Rolfe sighed dreamily. “You may have failed as a protector and provider, but I surely won’t! You have given me something more valuable than any coin could offer… yet you were neglectful to her. Such a shame really.”

“I… I’ll do anything! Just take her and let me live.”

“Ah but I can’t do that. Not when she still calls for you at night. No… you have to be eliminated. Destroyed, really. You can no longer exist on the same planet as her! You are in the way of my love!”

Loud screams of terror ringed out throughout the crisp night air and then it was silence.

Rolfe returned hours later scrubbed clean of blood while he crawled into the bed with his darling mate. He sighed in contentment when she cuddled him. Yes… it may take time to train her properly, but he was sure he could do it. He could make her love him. Just like he loved her.

[imaginedanvrs]

show and tell

masterlist

dark!wandanat x reader. sub!wanda, dom!natasha, dom-turned-sub!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: cheating, dubcon, undiscussed voyeurism, exhibitionism, size kink, strap on sex (r giving and recieving), mentions of tribbing, praise, degrading, gun play, threats of violence, rough sex, begging, masturbation

“Too much…y/n- baby,” Wanda panted helplessly. Despite the words she was hardly able to speak, her legs tightened their hold on you whilst you pushed your newest toy deeper. The Sokovian whined as her back arched off of her King sized bed and her fingers clawed into your back. 

  You grinned, gazing down at the beautiful view you had created. “All that power yet you can’t take a few extra inches,” you remarked. “And there I thought this poor neglected pussy would be desperate for it after being left alone for so long,” you continued, drawing your hips back only to thrust in further. She was so close to taking it all, she just needed some extra encouragement. 

  “Please,” she uttered, eyes connecting with your own the way they always did. She was so influenced with lust she was practically at your mercy, so you filled her to the brim with a grunt. “Fuck!” Wanda hissed, nerves ablaze. You felt her slick against your thighs when your pelvises pressed together and acknowledged the signal she was ready. 

  You fucked Wanda like it was the last time you’d do it, because that was always in question. She had an unpredictable life and her marriage was even more so. As though the absence of planning wasn’t challenging enough, the fact that Wanda was married to the world’s best spy (and assassin) was constantly looming over you. 

  “I bet she never makes you feel this way,” you said, watching Wanda’s blissed features as she moaned breathlessly. She looked insatiable when you had her like that, cheeks flushed, hair messed, pupils blown. All from your actions. “You like when I fuck you with this big cock?” You questioned with a smirk, as though you couldn’t hear how wet she was. 

  “I love it,” she cried out, mind frayed. “So good.” She just couldn't help herself. Neither could you. 

  “Better than her?” She met your cocky grin with a mere flash of hesitation before the carefree smile returned. 

  “So competitive,” a voice behind you mused. Your recognition was instant and you didn’t even turn around when you made to scramble out of the bed. You didn’t get the chance. With a distressed whine, Wanda’s magic entangled with your frame and pulled you flush against her until the strap was buried to the hilt once more. 

  “Wanda,” you gasped, unsure if she had heard her wife come in. “Let go,” you hissed as you heard the widow’s boots thud across the floor. Wanda didn’t oblige and instead began to move your hips for you to resume her pleasure. 

  “Stop that,” Natasha demanded and you stilled, unable to escape. “She was just saying how I could never make you feel this way, so by all means, let her go ahead,” she told her wife, gliding her cold fingertips over your hips and pushed you down. You registered Wanda’s hitch at the action. 

  “Please, I-” you tried but the spy wasn’t interested. 

  “Shut the fuck up.” You knew better than to argue with the Russian, especially once she rounded the bed to kiss her wife tenderly. 

  “Welcome home,” Wanda greeted, still very flushed to her wife’s amusement. You eyed the pair warrily, your heart hammering against your chest so hard you felt your ribs bruise. It almost stopped short when Natasha’s glaze turned cold and locked in on you. 

  “Fuck her,” she ordered. You didn’t dare object but had to tear your eyes away as you dutifully began to thrust into the woman beneath you. You focused on Wanda’s sweet noises of pleasure in an attempt to forget your fear, but it was difficult with Natasha’s stalking behind you again. 

  “So you’re the one who’s been fucking my wife while I was saving the world,” she commented casually. “Such a big strap on you too,” Natasha continued as she watched the soaked toy leave Wanda’s pussy only to be driven back in. “Does it make you feel tough to use this on her? How would you feel if I used this nasty cock on you?” You felt Wanda clench around you at her words. 

  “I’m sorry!” You tried again, imagining all of the different weapons that she could be carrying on her. 

  “You’re sorry you were caught,” she corrected. “If you make my wife cum I might consider letting you leave here with all of your limbs,” she considered, delivering a hard smack to your ass. You jolted forwards and heard Wanda cry out, falling into the rhythm Natasha pushed you into in a desperate attempt to please them both. It wasn’t hard, you had fucked Wanda countless times before, but you momentarily regretting bringing such a large toy to use under pressure. Still, it didn’t seem to be an issue for the Sokovian who gasped into your shoulder, peering at her wife with a knowing glint. Unknowingly to you, Natasha winked back with the same smirk she had stripped you of. 

  “ты хорошо себя чувствуешь, дорогая?” You frowned at the Russian’s words, knowing they were directed at Wanda but still feeling like you should know what they say. 

  “Wha-” you turned to question Natasha only to be met with the barrel of her handgun pointed at your head. You instantly cowered away but knew that even if you had tried to leap out of the bed again, it was pointless against the assassin. 

  “так хорошо!” Wanda answered, entirely unphased by the weapon she happened to be in the firing range of. Natasha hummed, seemingly pleased with her partner’s response.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” she told you pitifully. “As long as you do what you came here to do.” You figured there wasn’t much point protesting any longer, so you turned back to the woman beneath you and tried to pin all of your focus on her as you usually wouldn't without prompt. Even with a gun pointed at your head, you couldn’t stop admiring how much Wanda looked like some tainted angel that had succumbed to her desires. 

  “Don’t stop,” she called to you. She was breathless, desperate and despite her partner’s looming presence, entirely under your influence. You fucked Wanda relentlessly, just the way you knew she went crazy for until it became hard for you not to grow smug at the sounds you were drawing from her infront of her wife. Soon, the gun became a lingering thought and Wanda returned to the forefront of your mind as she had a habit of doing. 

  “I’m gonna cum,” she announced as your hips slapped against her own. You felt the tension in the room rise accordingly but didn’t let it affect you as you drove your fake cock into Wanda’s pussy harder. 

  “That’s it, fuck,” you encouraged, feeling the harness rub against you with every thrust that Wanda tried to meet. She dug her nails into your back as she came, soaking the toy that she clung to with such might that you had a challenge fucking her through her high. You rocked your hips against her as you coaxed her through her orgasm and felt yourself become impossibly wetter. Her slick was running down both your thighs and you wanted nothing more than to throw the harness off and rub your cunt against her ruined one. Perhaps you might have if it weren’t for the eyes on the both of you. 

  You grinned down at Wanda, your arrogance gradually making its way back until Natasha cut it short by dragging the harness off from your waist, as though she could read your mind. For a moment, you really did wonder if she was going to have you do what you were thinking of, until you noticed her tightening the harness to her own hips with practised ease. Somehow, seeing it on the widow made the strap look bigger. 

  You snapped your head back to Wanda when she began to shuffle herself out from under you and up towards the headboard that she rested against with heavy eyes. You made to follow until the barrel of the gun was pressed into the centre of your back and you were forced back down into the mattress with a grunt. 

  “You think we’re done?” Natasha scoffed. “What do you think, detka?” You peered up at Wanda with wide eyes only to see her fingers had returned to the space between her legs that was still red and leaking. The mischievous glint in her eyes was one you didn’t trust one bit. Your instincts were right. 

  “Make her take it,” the Sokovian husked. 

  “как скажешь,” Natasha replied simply, tossing the unnecessary gun to the side so that she could place both hands on you waist and lift your ass into the air. 

  “Wait,” you tried, knowing how large the toy was and how tight the fit would be. It was rare that you were on the receiving end so you were sure you weren’t ready for such a toy. At least you had worked Wanda up to it. Her wife didn’t seem to care because barely a second passed until you felt the head nudge at your exposed pussy. You could show your fear as much as you wanted, but you all heard the sound of the toy against your wetness. You whined into the bed, accepting you were made. 

  “I bet you wanted this from the start,” Natasha mused, pushing the toy past your reluctant entrance. You held the sheets in a death grip and cried out into the mattress at the immediate stretch. “You just need to be put in your place. Made to feel like the bitch you are,” she spat, pushing inch after inch into your dripping pussy without any consideration. 

  “Please!” You wailed inaudibly, needing a moment to adjust to the intrusion. Apparently you hadn’t earned that yet, because Natasha forced the rest of the toy in with a low groan that was overshadowed by your pleas of protest. It felt like you were being split apart, walls stretched to accommodate the cock you had such a thrill using just minutes prior. Needless to say, that power had been stripped. 

  “What happened, tough guy? Is it too much?” The Russian laughed. You registered Wanda’s breathy moans picking up again. “Too bad.” She drew her hips back only to slam them back into you along with every inch of the toy. You whined, high in your throat, and tried to close your legs but Natasha held them firmly apart. “No, no. Take it all. It’s only fair,” she pointed out, slamming herself against you. 

  The pain was prominent and stubborn, enhanced with every sharp thrust into your cunt that was soaked beyond belief, and you were powerless against it. Your slick only served to allow Natasha to fuck you as hard as she wished as your walls obediently parted for her to reach your depths in ways you had never felt. With that, the pleasure was finally able to peek through the haze of pain. 

  “Such a fucking whore letting me use you like this,” Natasha hissed but you hardly registered her over your burning sensations. She grabbed ahold of your hair and hauled your head up enough for your neck to ache and forced you to stare at her blissed out wife who sat pleasuring herself at your defeat. “You like being turned into a brainless fucktoy?” She asked. You didn’t respond as you looked at Wanda, knowing it would counteract with everything you had ever uttered to her but the harsh slap to your ass rid you of that final secret. 

  “Yes,” you whimpered. At the confession, Wanda fingered herself harder though it was clearly nothing compared to what her wife had you subject to. 

  Natasha’s thrusts were harsh, deliberately pushing as far inside you as she possibly could each time to make you bask in how large the toy was and how much it filled you up. You were stretched out perfectly around the toy, reshaped to take it as much as Natasha pleased. She was cruel, etching the words of ‘slut’ and ‘dumb’ into your mind as she ruined you in every sense of the word. 

  “I know you’re getting close, you’re clenching around me like a desperate bitch in heat,” Natasha told you, feuling Wanda’s arousal. 

  “Make her cum, make her know how good it feels,” the Sokovian called. Natasha huffed.

  “You’re lucky she’s here,” she muttered, clearly having planned on leaving you hanging despite the ruthlessness of the way she pounded into you. 

  Your moans grew along with Wanda’s and a matter of moments later, you were cumming around the unforgiving cock as hard as she had, pushing your own face into the bed to avoid meeting her eye in your moment of complete helplessness. You pushed back against Natasha as you came, desperate to have as much of her inside of you to cling to as your mind went blank. Your chest heaved and the world went quiet as your orgasm rushed through you. It was so much. Too much, all at once. 

  Once the intense waves finally finished crashing over you, you felt a pair of hands lift you up and place you on another body. You couldn't place either of them, too frazzled to tax your brain with the task, but you appreciated the warmth regardless and didn't fight it when a red haze clouded your mind and pulled you into a state of measured unconsciousness.

[anantaru]

— you ask him "can i sit on your lap?"

including heizou, lyney, wriothesley, alhaitham x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, a tiny bit suggestive towards the end (wriothesley's part, basically the last paragraph hints at something suggestive)

— heizou

the door to heizou's office was closed behind you two, leaving the rest of the world outside as you laid on a couch while he was practically glued to his office-desk— his countenance focused, absorbed in the current case he was working on.

to some, it might appear as boring when you both spend time like that, but to you it was the exact opposite— not only were you able to work on your own stuff in his office, in fact, you're not getting distracted by anything there, but heizou will always spend the night at your place after he was done with work.

although sometimes, you catch yourself become bored once you've finished up everything you had to do yourself, and immediately decide to walk towards his desk, your eyes holding a secret glow only he was able to understand.

"how far are you?" you ask, "already cracked the case?" tilting your head to the sight before lazily leaning against his desk.

heizou smirks before brushing one hand through his tousled hair, "almost done, heh, i'm almost there,"

you know— you know, you shouldn't bother him while he was busy with solving this case, but watching him actually do it was very much attractive. it's constant in his behavior, your boyfriend was just effortlessly handsome when he skimmed over a case, never seeing the glass as half full— he see it brimming to the top, filled with all his brilliance. 

to add on to that, the both of you couldn't be apart from each other for a long time anyways, it was like watching two magnets, pushing and pulling until they finally clicked back into place.

"can i sit on your lap?" you say in a whispered utterance that was setting his heart ablaze, "i want to watch you solve it," and the way you spoke to him in that sound, heizou's facial features instantly turn softly into kindness, a carefree laugh attached to him.

"you don't have to ask, come here."

heizou instantly makes space for you before guiding you towards his lap, and an immediate rush of warm air rises when he wraps his arms around you, the tension roiling and manifesting into heart-shaped clouds.

now, as a result of being so close to your boyfriend, his slightly sweet fragrance overruns your senses when you rest your head against his shoulder, sighing out through your mouth.

"you wanna help me solve this case, hm?" the man snickers as his palm smoothes along your thigh, "i will do whatever you want if you solve it before me,"

"i can try," you claim confidently and shift on his lap.

a gleeful light falls into his deep, black pupils when you agree, his lips curved up into a smile, "but don't get mad if i beat you!"

— lyney

"see? that's how you hide a card and make it appear again,"

lyney moves his fingers around the pack of cards with such frightening precision that you could evidently witness with fierce clarity that, well, you cannot possibly memorize this magic trick with the confused blur in your eyes— despite the fact that he has shown you the exact same trick three times in a row now.

you sigh out in defeat, your eyes skimming over his hands as you're both sitting on the couch next to each other, "I still don't get it," your words were breathless but liquid with embarrassment, even though there was nothing to be embarrassed about— because you see, lyney would never reveal a trick to anybody, not even to his significant other.

after all, it's a magicians greatest strength to keep their cunning mischiefs hidden away.

in fact, he only offered to show you because he really liked that befuddled look on your face, he finds it so cute, pretty and sweet.

a somewhat devious, but calm smile hovers on his face as he watches you in awe, one hand now lingering on your arm, a silent plea for you to stay.

"hm, you know what? let me look at it from a different view," you grin before tenderly kissing his cheek, "it's difficult watching from the side like that, you know?" then place a small peck on his jaw before working yourself towards his soft lips at last.

"can i sit on your lap?" you say and lyney almost whines at your request, a pretty sparkle on your eyes worsening his condition, your voice barely above a whisper.

on a surface level, you were dating lyney for quite a while now and were utterly aware that he was probably trying to confuse you with his magic tricks, and although you do not welcome it, you also did not mind because letting him confuse you wasn't necessarily a bad thing— since lyney would always become so confident and loving, not to mention excited to show and tell you more about his passion.

he blushes a little, an emotion such as this one was probably one of the only ones a magician of his caliber was unable to disguise.

"of course," lyney takes a deep breath before straightening his posture out, parting his arms so you could easily settle on his lap.

once you're on his lap, he kisses your shoulder before resting his head in the nook of your neck, "i'll start over now, you ready?"

"i am!" you retort back, "i will get it this time," as a lazy smirk spreads across your face before you begin to melt into his embrace.

— wriothesley

for you to be able to see each other as often as possible, you tend to visit wriothesley at work every now and then— sometimes you feel quite lonely since your boyfriend was always occupied with his job, so when you open the door to his office at last, he holds a benevolent presence on his demeanor, mirth possessing his eyes at the pure look of you walking into the room.

and to make this situation even sweeter, wriothesley shows you a tight-lipped, tender smile on his attractive face, delving into the soothing energy you always brought forth in him.

time seemed to stand still as your eyes met, and wriothesley immediately rises from his seat, cheeks flushing brightly, "you're finally here," his voice jovial-alike, so jovial that it set your entire tone for the day, "i was waiting for you, love,"

his walk was quick as he could barely wait to hug you— in fact, you honestly applaud him for how impossibly fast he has reached you as two muscular arms wrap around your body in no time, a silent language of shared passion being spoken.

"i'm sorry that i have kept you waiting, i'm a bit late, aren't i?" with a meaningful smile, you cup his cheeks before stroking the skin with your thumb.

lost in your eyes, wriothesley watches you through a soft look of through his thick lashes, "—oh, yeah? you did? i couldn't tell."

"but now that you're mentioning it, hm, how brave of you to keep me waiting like that," wriothesley utters in a fooling timbre, "—knowing that I've missed you all day," he continues to tease you before guiding you towards his desk by your hand.

on a normal day, the duke would offer you to sit on his office chair just because he finds it cute and somewhat hilarious— in fact, your cuteness in general was off the charts, it practically had its own gravitational pull.

you do not sit down and instead wrap your arms around his neck, "looks like someone's not quite perfect after all," wriothesley jokes in a tone that was warm and inviting, eliciting an immediate laugh from you.

you pout at him, "hey! if that's the case i'm taking my apology back right now,"

half jokingly, you avert your gaze as to tease him for once, although his overconfidence was like a blazing torch, nothing was capable to rush through it.

wriothesley keeps a prolonged eye contact with you so he could intensify the triumph over this situation, watching how you're crumbling first and losing the game, a playful wink adding a touch of humor to his jest.

"ouch, my love, you heart my heart crack right now?" the duke knits his eyebrows together as he kisses your forehead, his voice light with a hint of playfulness.

you roll your eyes, "hmpf, that's what you get."

the air was charged with a gentle, bubbly energy as wriothesley slightly pushes his office chair towards your direction to make you sit down— he believed you must be tired from today, in fact, the night was slowly approaching and he could tell by how often you'd yawn out.

you look at the chair before searching for your boyfriends eyes again, "is it okay if i sit on your lap instead?" you ask shyly, "i want to watch you work," certainly, that look on your face told him all he needed to know,

"—and cuddle," especially with that twinkle in your eyes.

"you sure? i might be unable to sit still," he grins, leaning closer to your ear before pulling you on to his lap, "make sure to keep your eyes wide open for me, no sleeping," wriothesley kisses your cheek, his voice a soft murmur that boiled the blood in your veins.

"working with me can be quite the handful, you know," he claims confidently, yet you weren't new to your boyfriend's manner of speaking— because you see, in secret he was hinting at something way different than you simply sitting on his lap.

— alhaitham

eyes fluttering shut, you lean against alhaitham's shoulder while your knee would nudge against his own ever so often, swaying from left to right.

it's this particular hour of the day again, where your boyfriend would read to you in the park, it's a simple date yet the both of you preferred it above everything else— it's the vibrancy of various petals decorating the nature that was boldly unique to you, surrounding your bodies so delicately and pure that you couldn't help yourself but feel weary due to the dainty scenery.

for some reason, you cannot keep your eyes open this time but proceeded to give your utmost best to keep your fatigue hidden from the scribe's eyes— granting the fact that he had figured it out the second he saw you.

it was utterly unfair, that's what it was, because there was nothing you cherished more then spending time with your boyfriend like that, in midst the sounds of cooing pigeons in the garden as  sun washes the garden with a golden glow.

alhaitham liked it to, especially reading his favorite books to you was something he thought was beneficial to the both of you. most importantly, he noticed how he was igniting an inner smile in your soul, that kind that burns warm and long, he loves that smile, he couldn't possibly become satiated by it ever.

in a fleeting moment, he places his warm palm against your knee, "hey, you're falling asleep," he claims, a little stoic, "we should head home so you can rest,"

no, please no, you yell inwardly before rubbing your eyes— every ounce of your remaining strength was dedicated to maintaining your eyes open and stay within this scenery a little longer.

"it's okay, i am fine, i promise," you panic, then yawn, yikes, what a way for your body to go behind your back.

hand in hand with your weary state of mind, you move your body before standing up to reclaim your energy, "you can keep reading to me, please, it was getting interesting,"

you're attempting to salvage just an ounce of this date, your eyebrows knitting together in displeasure as you yawn out again.

"i love listening to you."

"there's no point in that if you're falling asleep,"

alhaitham takes your hand, delicately pulling your body towards his own as to inspect your fatigued expression, "we can postpone this, the book isn't running anywhere and neither am i," he smiles gently, silently running his thumb along your knuckles so you'd calm yourself down a little, his homely trace sending a shiver down your spine.

without dissembling anything, it wasn't the book you feared to miss out on— in fact, it was about alhaitham himself. as the scribe of the akademiya he had always been busy and it could become very difficult to plan dates in advance.

to note that even after he might finish up his duties for the day a little earlier, he preferred to stay within the warm confines of his home which you did not mind either.

"alhaitham?" you heave out, something unspoken yet profound being exchanged as your body tests the waters by moving forward, "can i sit on your lap? that way i will surely stay awake, i promise."

alhaitham cocks a curious brow at you, "oh, you will?" he inquires as you nod your head, "in that case, please be my guest,"

the scribe shuffles in his seat as he spreads his legs a little, waiting for you to sit on his lap as one of his hands guide you down while the other held on to the beige-colored book.

the scribe looks at you through thick eyelashes, his face wholly relaxed as you loop one arm around his shoulders to steady yourself, your  lips contorting into a deep, happy smile.

"are you comfortable enough?" he asks as you shift your weight from one leg to another, "very much, thank you."

alhaitham holds you by your waist, strong enough that you could leisurely lean back without fearing of actually dropping on the ground. after figuring out a comfortable setting for the both of you, he flips his book open with one hand as your body subconsciously heats up at his tender palm rubbing circles on your waist.

a cool breeze swirls around you both when he resumes to the book like nothing has changed at all, his choice in tone dignified and unwavering as he reads the first paragraph to you, smiling at your sweet face when he notices how you were drifting into a much deeper sleep.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll, and after a LOT of voting, I present you this :) BIG thanks to @that-multi-fandom-hijabi for beta reading this go follow her writing acc rn (@novaaaaaa-writes). Here's my masterlist!

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of burning, stabbing, blood, bad descriptions of both fire of water (ice, snow ?) bending, Zuko is whipped, just a little confused about it, reader is a baddie, water benders unite (not me tho), reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind, reader looks non-threatening, is underestimated a lot, this takes place at the end of season one, I think that's it

Pairing: Prince Zuko x GN!Reader

•──•°•❀•°•─── ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀʙᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ───•°•☁︎•°•───•

“You shouldn’t be here” you glare, your gaze sending shivers down his spine. 

But that could just be because of all the snow and ice surrounding the both of you. 

The fire prince remains unfazed though, his amber eyes sweeping over your form- assessing the threat you posed. 

He could take you down in seconds. 

Zuko doesn’t respond to your jab though, because he knew you were wrong. He had to be here, it was the only way he could finally receive his father’s favor- as the heir and as the son of Firelord Ozai. It was his duty, his honor. 

And he wasn’t going to let a non-threatening waterbender get in the way of that. 

Reaching back, he unsheathes his dual swords, the glint of the waning moonlight reflecting the dangerous glint in his eye. 

And yet you didn’t back down.  

Pooling some water from your waterskin, you assumed the stance you had trained yourself to take whenever you honed your skills. One with the water, one with the ice.  

‘Power should flow, not force itself” Master Pakku had told you once.  

People had always underestimated your skills, saying you were better suited for healing. But after showing Master Pakku how you could use your bending to control the falling snow around you, he gave you a chance.  

He had told you to let the power settle in your body before releasing, instead of forcing it out immediately. Conceal and then control. 

You met Zuko’s fiery gaze with an icy one of your own. You were going to protect your home.  

With a yell, you form flurries of snow, whipping around your form as you channel your strength to change the form of your flurry, snow turning to water, water turning to sharp daggers of pure ice.  

Zuko scowls, setting his hands ablaze and you run at each other, fire meeting ice.  

Time slows down, as the intensity of your elements picks up, until all you could hear was the steady thump – thump – thump – of your heart, and the roar of crystalline knives swirling around you. 

Flames lick the side of your leg, wincing as the raw burn of the fire sears through your skin in white-hot pain. Razor sharp icy shards cut into Zuko’s skin, finding chinks in his armor, piercing his flesh and drawing blood. 

The snow beneath the both of you was dotted red now, both of you staring at each other, panting heavily.  

“You really shouldn’t be here.” you repeat again, but this time, it was barely a whisper, swallowing down tears as the cold wind of the Northern Water Tribe stung your gaping wounds. 

Zuko growls, grunting in pain as he pulls a shard of ice out of his skin.“I don’t take orders from a little waterbender” he spat, venom dripping from his words. 

You reciprocate with a snide comment of your own. “This ‘little waterbender’ just sunk 5 icicles into your skin.” 

Zuko was just about ready to tear your head off, hands igniting with vermillion flames before you collapse, the burns along your thigh and calf were much more severe than either of you realized.  

You choke out a sob of pain but keep your control of the water left in your waterskin. You couldn’t die, not today, and not at the hands of the prince of the Fire Nation.  

Zuko’s heart throbs unexpectedly, the look on your face too familiar for comfort. The face of someone who worked so desperately hard, only for all that effort to go down the drain. But he didn’t care for you. He couldn’t- couldn’t grow attachment to a non-threatening waterbender. Yet you sat there on the snow, dotted with blood, with that raw look in your eyes. His flames extinguished, without him meaning to.  

You flinched as he threw his swords down frustrated, impaling themselves into the nearby snow mound, standing straight up. 

He stomps over to you, and you frantically move back, but your leg flares up in pain again, and you yelp, hissing in pain.

“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.” he says, glaring at you, but not as intensely as he had before.  

You want to scream, kick him, punch him, anything, but your body betrays you as he sweeps you up into his arms, carrying you to the nearest place he can find, where he can keep you safe. You feel his strong arms hook under your knees and under your back, holding you securely to his firm chest. Even through his armor, he radiates warmth, a gentle heat, unlike the flames he threw at you merely minutes ago.  

He hates this, with every fiber in my being, his voice screaming at him to drop you and burn your frail body to a crisp, vengeance for the blood dripping from his own body, but he keeps moving, step after painstaking step. 

You try to stay awake, you really do, yet channeling so much energy from your battle, the numb throb in your lower leg, and the comforting heat radiating off the fire prince who refuses to look at you, you slip into unconsciousness.  

Zuko feels a weight press against his chest, and he huffs, honey-colored eyes catching onto the details of your face, the curve of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, the slight pout of your lips as you nuzzle into his armor unintentionally, how pretty you were when you were at peace. 

He stops himself there, reprimanding himself for thinking such things. He can’t have feelings for the enemy. 

And yet, even as he and his troops head home, battle wearing and dejected from the loss of a major battle, Zuko can’t help but think about his little waterbender.  

*** 

When you wake up, the kind woman tending to you tells you all about the mysterious and handsome man who carried your sleeping form across the entire Northern Water Tribe because he didn’t know where the healing center was.  

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭.

🎀 Traveling from nation to nation and learning the art of creating the most delicious chocolate has been a passion of yours for ages. However, upon stepping foot into the Nation of Flame, you never could have prepared yourself for the incoming wave of sweetness and obsession which was going to hit you like never before.

A/N: This story is loosely inspired by Joanne Harris' book of the same title, Chocolat. It's a book that I am very fond of and I was inspired to write this once I saw that we were able to make chocolate in Natlan, probably the best thing in the game. I am a massive chocolate enjoyer, so... Also, the fic has some minor nsfw implications, just a bit of a heads up! Apologies if Kinich is not in character, oopsie.

yandere! kinich x fem! reader.

Proud warriors, the scorching hot sun and eternal flames were the first things that came to mind whenever you would think about Natlan. As a humble Mondstadter, it never occurred to you just how rich this nation was, how welcoming the people were going to be and not to mention how this place could help you develop your love for chocolate.

Stirring the pot in front of you was no easy task as the decadent scent of delightful goodness enveloped the entire humble little hut which you occupied, the entire floor littered with pots and pans filled to the brim with your creations and some personal trinkets which you had brought for yourself along for the journey.

One of Natlan's great tribes, the Scions of the Canopy, had graciously taken you under their wing and allowed you the privilege of experiencing the culture firsthand. You let out a wistful sigh as the chocolate bubbled happily before you, the dark liquid almost looking too good to be real.

You always took pride in your skills as a chocolatier, even if you hardly considered yourself the best one in the whole entire world. An endless sky of knowledge was out there waiting for you, the voices of the unknown beckoning you to come forward and seize them with your own two hands.

You were a true Mondstadter at heart. No matter where you were or how far you traversed, the wind was always there to guide you, to show you the right path. And right now, the flow of the wind said to stay in Natlan, to finally stop and smell the roses a little.

And each rose you touched had never been as sweet.

The rose, your rose, had a name and merely thinking of him sent your heart ablaze. Messy dark hair, gorgeous dew eyes and skin so perfectly rough and tender at the same time, it made you wonder how he managed to pull off something so contradictory.

That was Kinich's charm, you supposed. Cheeky little thing, he always looked out for you ever since he saw you. Despite his dry humor and straightforward attitude, there was a certain gentle quality to him which made him so irresistible, as if he was temptation personified. Never once did he leave you alone for the entirety of your trip if it could be helped, which came as a shock to his fellow tribe members.

Looking back on it, you were foolish to not see his intentions, even more so for not paying attention to the longing glimmer in his eye and how he would trail after you like a shadow.

He was shy, at first. Unsure on how he should express his feelings, Kinich merely resorted to doing things for you, because he was simply that kind of man. Actions speak louder than words and there was no word in the dictionary which could describe the way in which his chest would tighten in pain whenever he would make eye contact with you, as if large and thorny vines had sprouted from the ground up and taken root in his soul.

You are sweeter than any chocolate you could possibly make, he whispered into your ear one evening.

A shudder came over you, your cheeks hot at the memory of that night... The moon was high and full, overtaking the pitch black sky as Kinich had pinned you to the ground, his gaze boring deeply in your own, those large eyes focused on you and only you...

Chewing your bottom lip, you stirred the pot harshly as the memory replayed in your head over and over - his grip, which was tighter than any rope imaginable, the feeling of melted chocolate which was caked over your lips and fingers, the sensation of Kinich's tongue as he licked away the sweet goodness off your body...

By the seven, this was too much.

With a huff, you turned off the fire which was lit beneath the pot, your hands shaking with excitement as you felt your entire body growing hotter and hotter, making it harder to concentrate.

Damn that Kinich. Damn him for making you feel so wonderful, so wanted, so perfect. The thought of having to leave this place, it... It bordered on anguish. Sometimes, when you were sure no one was around, you would find a dark little corner and weep quietly to yourself. It was hard to manage the massive hiccups and keep the snot away from staining your clothes at first but you managed. Like always, you would find a way to get everything back in order and all would be well once you got everything out of your system.

You had fallen for Natlan. You had fallen even more so than Kinich. Even so, the wind was picking up once more, demanding that you make your next move.

There was so little time left to enjoy everything you had built here. Therefore, your plan was to make the most of everything you possibly could.

And Kinich was more than ready to assist with that.

He hid high up in a tree as he observed you, his face schooled into that of one of his classical nonchalance and stoicism. The chance of him being spotted by anyone up here was slim but even so, he liked to play it safe.

No one needed to know the pain he was in. No one needed to be aware of his more... dubious thoughts and actions. Kinich always fancied himself as a man of action rather than flowery words. And so, he acted.

Quietly, stealthily... Perhaps even a little lethally at times.

Violence was hardly ever the answer but if anyone got in his way and refused to back down, it was his only solution then.

Kinich had a solid reputation in his tribe - he was trustworthy, he was strong. This granted him access to many things, many useful and convenient things. All he had to do was say the word and most people would keep their mouths shut if they saw him somewhere he should not be. And if his poorly veiled threats were not enough, he was more than ready to take up his weapon and fight.

It really was that easy for him.

Sneaking into your newly built home was its own beast though.

This is wrong, he would chant inside his mind over and over again. The intensity of his actions and his nonchalant persona were always at a clash with one another, constantly fighting a never ending war. He should trust you, he knows you are capable, he has no right to be doing any of this even yet... And yet, he does it anyway.

Because he knows that if he doesn't do something, he will never see you again. Kinich knows that he will lose you to the wind if he lets you slip through his fingers, he will never get to experience what it means to be touched, to be loved.

He wants to adore you in the same way people adore your delectable creations. The various statues made from chocolates, the little cacao bites, the endless sea of pralines which would be devoured so fast by the masses that he could not keep up...

Whenever he had the luxury, he liked to imagine you as one of those pralines. Perfect and oh so easy to devour, you were nothing short of excellent in his eyes. Kinich was no blind fool, he was well aware that you had your flaws as well but he cared very little about that.

He wanted the entire package. He wanted you, wrapped up in a little bow and delivered on his doorstep like the world's most precious package, a package which he could unwrap and enjoy time and time over.

Even in his hazy state of mind, he could still recall how you tasted. Licking his lips, Kinich made sure to double check that he had taken a few things from your hut which could prevent you from finishing your latest project. Yes, that was petty of him.

But he could not be bothered to care.

The wind was cruel. Whenever a gust of it would blow at him, Kinich would scowl as he knew that it meant that you would take it as a sign to leave. His hair would get tousled as he would wrap his arms around his body, the constant yapping of Ajaw did him no good either.

The clock was ticking. There was only so much he could do to keep you here. A plan needed to be formed, fast.

For now, he was going to enjoy you in every way he could. He was going to be greedy and devour you wholly whenever the opportunity arose. As Kinich balanced himself up on the massive tree branch, yet another fresh gust of wind made its way towards him. He saw the way you popped your shoulders, that all too familiar smile on your face.

You loved the wind and the wind loved you. You loved to make chocolate and were quite excellent at it too.

Despite all that, Kinich loved you more. He adored you more than the sun adored the world, he wanted you more than unlike anything else before. He cursed the Anemo Archon underneath his breath, his poor lip bloody and bruised from the amount of times he had bitten it in order to keep himself quiet.

Kinch was a man of countless deeds. And he would find a way to keep you by his side, no matter the cost. Be it Celestia or the Abyss, there was no force in this world which could destroy the endless and raging fire he felt for you.

[millionsnife]

tag dump 2 tba

[samadhifire]

@siimians​ SAID: i failed you. is that what you want me to say? / red sun au

❝ I DON'T KNOW! ❞ the boy shrieks, shoulders hunched as his hands tense into fists by his sides.  He doesn't know! HE DOESN'T KNOW! What does he even want the other to say, to even DO? What could reverse your entire life being fabricated?! He spent so much time idolising the Monkie King, aspiring to be someone he could be proud of! His apprentice, and soon his successor! All to get tossed aside and told he'd never been important at all! At least, that what it FELT like. Had he been a placeholder? A backup plan, if he'd found no one? For what reason would Sun Wukong rip him away from his roots, tell him NOTHING about the Samadhi Fire?! Red Son BELIEVED in him -- he well and truly did! And to find out it's all LIES is earth-shattering!  ❝ You... kept this from me for so long. I dedicated so much TIME trying to be what you wanted me to be! ❞

❝ And you... LIED to me. About Mother, Father -- the SAMADHI FIRE! How am I supposed to REACT to that?! ❞

[spxllcxstxr]

Slow Burn Lovers with Jayce Talis • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Jayce head cannons? maybe like slow burn lovers trope, hcs can be mostly of like what it would be like dating him. Any pronouns is fine! (Tysm I love ur writing!) -- anon

Warnings: gn!reader, it’s all fluff motherfuckers 😫

A.N: his pouty lips are so KISSABLE 😫😫😫 also thank you so much, I’m so happy you like my writing…🥺🥺 I hope you like this too!!!

•

By the time Jayce is partners with Viktor in the lab, the two of you had been friends for a very long time. You had spent most of your time in the Academy with him, from late night study sessions in the library to hanging out in your room with a few drinks. He was someone you quickly realized you could rely on, and he felt the same towards you

Your friendship gets the point where you both essentially know everything about one another. Every little detail about every little thing is mapped out in your minds

Your peers and professors alike always assumed the two of you were a couple and after informing them you and Jayce were just friends, they'd always give you a knowing look and an unconvinced "yeah, sure..." If the two of you weren't together at the Academy, they figured you would get together at some point

Being close friends with Jayce meant that greetings and goodbyes were accompanied by tight hugs, sitting across from each other meant he was, at some point, going to "accidentally" kick you, his hand would frequently rest on your bicep when together. Jayce Talis is a very touchy person and you were absolutely no exception to that. He feels comfortable with you, and this is the best way to show it in his opinion

Always asks you about your day, how you're doing, if you ate yet. He's extremely observant of your habits and behavior and he always wants to make sure you're better than just ok. You do the exact same to him, which always makes his day a little brighter

He falls hard for you, one day in the lab. He had feelings for you bubbling beneath the surface for years, but it never hit him that hard before. Jayce always compared everyone to you, always wanted to see you smile and hear your laugh, he never felt safe with anyone except you. However, it takes him another year to confess to you simply because he doesn't want to ruin your friendship--the greatest thing he's ever had. That was the fear from the very start, all those years ago, but this time it felt more real

When the two of you finally do get together (thank Viktor for pressuring Jayce to just do it already), it seems like almost nothing has changed. You and Jayce had just been acting like a couple for so long that there wasn’t a sudden feeling that something had shifted. However, this did mean that Jayce felt as if he had so many kisses to share with you to make up for lost time

Jayce would kiss you softly on the lips when entering the room, and if you were working he’s press a kiss to your temple. The man can’t get enough of you. There were kisses in the lab, in the corridors, late at night over candle-lit dinners. (Jayce will even sometimes pull you into a supply closet to make out with you when you look so heavenly in your outfit. He knows you two have other things to do and that Viktor is waiting for him back in the lab, but you’re just so irresistible. Surely Viktor understands…(Viktor proceeds to be jokingly mad at Jayce when he finally shows up, ten minutes late with ruffled hair))

Additionally, Jayce's once casual touches turn into something more. His hands linger longer on the small of your back or on the back of your hand. Each brush of his fingertips against your exposed skin sets your nerves ablaze and your heart beats quicker than before. Jayce is fond of bigger displays of physical touch as well. He loves just placing his head in your lap at the end of a long day and pulling your body closer to his in bed

(Heimerdinger feels especially vindicated when he finds out the two of you are finally dating. He’s known since the very beginning you guys were head over heels for each other; it was only a matter of time. Heimer is so happy for you guys once you tell him that he immediately asks when the wedding is and if he can officiate it)

Jayce has found that he has loved you since the very beginning and he sees a future with you by his side

[allurilove]

Yan! Prince x Siren you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Gore, murder, death, cannibalism?, physical violence, non-consensual touching, implied sexual exploitation, fem reader, and decapitation.

*This is just a fun short story I wrote for the class I am taking, and I just decided to upload it here! Some parts are influenced by the yandere fic I already made lol! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: All you have known is peace, all until you get captured by a group of men that unlocks a different side to you. You then meet a prince, a prince driven with a bloodlust for power, and he gives you a proposition.

Men. All they do is bother you.

Your heart beats fast.

Your vision blurs as the familiar blues turn into browns, and your eyes fixate on the woodwork and rustic charm of what is considered to be a ship. The rope burns onto your skin, and your body contorts into an unnatural state as she is hoisted onto the boat.

Your tail thrashes and you try to bite your way out of the trap—teeth gnashing and chewing—and you cry out as youre is hit with a paddle. Your head starts to ring, and your eyes widen as you see the group of men in front of you.

Their garments are quite different from yours; in fact, they are fully dressed from head to toe. Their clothes are all dark, and their blouses have ruffles at the top. They wear boots, have swords at their sides, trench coats, and carry a heavy musk of sweat and battle.

With a sharp and intimidating blade, one of the men cuts through the net. Multiple hands grab for you, and your world comes to a pause as you panic. You feel like you can't breathe and your lungs are about to collapse. You scratch and attempt to plead with your captors, your nails digging into their forearms, drawing long red streaks.

But they do not listen.

“Mighty thang we got ‘ere!” one of the men says, his hair darkened by the rain peltering their bodies. He has a rough scar running down his face– a deep incision that caused his skin to never heal.

You can see a prominent and yellow snaggletooth whenever he speaks. He has an air of authority surrounding him, and his hat has gold embellishments compared to the regular silver everyone else has. That one particular man holds a predatory gaze, his eyes set ablaze with a whirlwind of mischief. “Tie her up, we could use a beaut like her on top of the mantle.” 

Laughter fills your ears as the group of men start to agree, and you feel a chill run down your spine as they touch your smooth cheek, their fingers trailing down to your jawline, and moving lower to your collarbones.

Each touch feels intrusive as they pet your silk-like hair condescendingly. “We could send her to the owner at The Pearl of the Eye; I know they are lookin’ for new girls to show off,” another says, his arms crossed as he leaned against the post.

“Aye, tha’ a popular place.” The man with the highest regard starts to pet his scruffy beard in thought. He then catches your withering glare, and a flash of amusement crosses his face. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I know men who would pay a pretty coin for that temperament.”

“Keep it up, trollop.” he snickers, his finger moving to boop your nose. “You’ll make me thousands of gold in no time.”

Your pupils turn to slits as you bite down onto the man's finger, a metallic taste bursting into your mouth, satisfaction lingering on your tongue. His blood becomes sweet nectar, and with renewed strength and clarity, you unhinge your jaw and attempt to swallow the human whole.

Your hunger becomes endless, and a gnawing angry feeling grows into an insatiable appetite for flesh. For skin to be peeled off meat. For meat to be taken from bone, and their vocal chords to be a part of yours. Your body adjusts to the change, your throat expanding to the men’s silhouette as they traveled down your gullet. Their screams were words of encouragement, egging you to continue.

Humans, and men in particular, tasted different from the fish you were used to. They were heavier, harrier, bloodier, and infested with nasty ambition of lust and pride. You revel in the taste of their guilt, their fear, and the past memories of their wickedness. 

No matter how hard the group of men tried to band up and defeat the siren, their swords were no match for your unwavering hatred. You waste zero time to snap multiple necks, your teeth digging into any area that you could rip into shreds, and your stomach becomes full off of their disgustingly filthy urine soaked bodies.

One last man is standing, his eyes wide as saucers and his tears roll down his pale cheeks. He looks young and his uniform doesn't fit him properly. Your nails help your body to crawl towards the shaking figure, he can't even defend himself, and the weapon in his hand shakes. The wind continues to whip around them, the clouds darken as a loud cry comes from the sky, and an array of purple and dark blue strikes down on the earth. The boy yelps when you have an iron grip on his ankle. 

Unbeknownst to the siren, a smaller vessel has pulled up to the larger ship.

“I wouldn't touch him, if I were you.” The voice is cutthroat, a harsh demand that sends chills down the spine of the scariest and deadliest creature. You wince as you feel a sharp pain on your scalp, and your hair is now wrapped around a stranger's hand as they yank you back. You crash into a barrel filled with treasures as you are thrown across the ship, and a bunch of diamonds and pearls spill onto the floor. 

A tall and proud man stands in front of you, he has pitch black hair that flows in the wind, and his blue eyes shine like bright lights. The unknown man's presence is regal-like, his back straight like an arrow, and his face is trained with unusual niceties. Then the little boy ran into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around him tightly… all before the man pulls out a dagger from his sheath.

Without a single thought, a clean cut to the throat separated the head from the body, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide eerie smile. He isn't phased by the limp body falling to his feet and the blood spilling onto his perfect shoes.

“You… you are exactly what I need.” The man’s eyes are glued to yours and he stares down at you. “My name is Prince....” 

The prince that stands before you is practically last in line for the throne. That is what you could surmise from his little rant. He is sadly and disappointingly the second youngest, and he isn't close to the crown and title, at all.

He paced around, one hand on his heart, and the other continued to grip onto the hair of the decapitated head. “I need to be king. I am the only one fit to rule the land. It is like the gods have forsaken me, and they decided to punish me for no apparent reason.”  

The man huffs, his eyes narrowing. The waves crash against the sides of the boat, but he stands his ground. “Six siblings ahead of me, and one measly brother behind me– does that seem fair to you? That this kingdom will fall into the hands of dumb and dumber, and eventually to the offspring of the said dumb and dumber?!” His voice is so loud it even rivals the onslaught of thunder, and you can hear a hint of distraught on his otherwise clear and steady tone.

“This is where you come in.” He stops right in front of you. “I can keep you fed, and I can give you all the riches you could ever want. Marry me, carry my children and lineage, and get rid of all of my siblings.” The prince throws the head at your tail, and with a tilt of the ship, it slowly rolls towards you.

The boy's jaw is slack, a tooth chipped from the impact of the fall, and his blue eyes are wide open in fear. He has similar tiny freckles around his nose like the prince, the same facial structure with the high cheekbones, and a tall nose.  

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

[calypso-rt]

ᴏʙʟɪᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ

ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ᴘᴏɢᴜᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | 1.6k

ᴀ/ɴ: ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ :)

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴀꜰᴇ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴀʙꜱᴏʟᴜᴛᴇʟʏ ᴇɴᴀᴍᴏʀᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ…ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴏʙʟɪᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ..

Stolen glances and lingering eyes should’ve been enough proof of the growing attractions.

But you and Rafe Cameron were the epitome of obliviousness.

Everyone could see it, I mean, even Rafe’s own idiotic friends noticed. The Pogues, despite their distaste for Rafe, could see it too. It was obvious from the moment he first met you…

It started months ago when you moved to the Outer Banks and snagged a summer job at the island’s country club. You were new to the chaos of island life, with its clear divides between the Kooks and the Pogues, but the country club seemed like neutral ground…well, not at all actually, but at least you were valued as an employee.

Rafe had strolled in one muggy afternoon, exuding an air of careless confidence. He was there to pick up his sister, Sarah, but you didn’t know that yet. What you did notice was how his sharp blue eyes locked onto you when you fumbled with a tray of drinks.

“You’re spilling,” he said flatly, gesturing to the condensation pooling on your tray.

“I’m fine,” you replied, your tone clipped, though you felt your cheeks warming.

But instead of brushing it off, Rafe grabbed a few napkins from the counter and handed them to you, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest moment. It was such a simple gesture, but you noticed the hesitation in his hand, as though he was reluctant to let go.

From then on, he started showing up at the club more often. At first, it was always with a reason: picking up Sarah, meeting friends, golfing. Yet somehow, he always ended up near your section, lounging in a chair with an iced tea, his sunglasses pushed up to his hair as he watched you dart between tables.

“You’re working too hard,” he teased one day, catching you mid-sprint. He was perched on the edge of a barstool, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off a hint of a tan.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of lounging around all day,” you shot back, though the way his lips twitched into a lopsided grin made your heart flutter.

As the weeks passed, the small gestures piled up. He’d linger in line just long enough to exchange a few words, his voice soft but teasing. He started carrying a spare pen in his pocket because he noticed you were always searching for one. Once, when a storm rolled in out of nowhere, Rafe showed up at the back door with an umbrella and waited until your shift ended to walk you to your car.

“It’s pouring,” you said, exasperated but touched by his effort.

“And?” he replied, tilting the umbrella slightly so more of it covered you. “Can’t have you getting sick.”

You didn’t see the way his friends smirked from across the lot or the knowing glance Sarah threw his way. But when you whispered a soft “thank you,” he smiled down at you like you’d handed him the moon.

You didn’t need to say anything else. 

Everyone knew.

It was only a matter of time.

And so here you were lounging on the sand on a little beach day. The waves were high and the sun was ablaze, illuminating your skin in a golden light.

Days like these are when the Kooks and the Pogues came to an unspoken sort of truce and shared the beachspace. They both knew where the best surfing spots were.

Lost in your little book, a shadow casts over you, and you look up to see him.

All sunkissed skin and salt-blown hair.

That easy arrogance he wore like a second skin.

“Missed the early morning waves,” you tease, perching your sunglasses on your nose as you smirk up at him, eyes glimmering in the sunrays.

“Yeah, well,” he drawled, dropping his board into the sand beside you, “not all of us have the luxury of sitting here pretending to read.”

“Pretending?” you scoffed, closing the book with an exaggerated snap. “I was deep in a chapter about existentialism before your shadow interrupted my enlightenment.”

He tilted his head, squinting at the cover. “It’s a romance novel, isn’t it?”

“It's literary fiction, thank you very much,” you said, holding the book closer to your chest in mock offense.

“Sure it is.” He sat down beside you, close enough that the side of his knee brushed yours. A deliberate move, but one he played off so casually that it would’ve gone unnoticed if your heart wasn’t already doing flips.

The others began to catch on. From the water, JJ paused mid-paddle, tilting his head like he was trying to process the scene in front of him. “Would you look at that? Rafe Cameron’s gone soft,” he muttered, elbowing Pope. “Swapped his surfboard for a... muse or something.”

Pope snorted. “More like a sparring partner,” he shot back, though the amused glint in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Under a nearby umbrella, Sarah watched the whole thing unfold, her lips quirking into a knowing smirk. Rafe was leaning in again, saying something to you that made you laugh, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the bustling beach didn’t exist to him. “Oh, he’s a goner,” she muttered, shaking her head but unable to stop smiling.

“Want a surfing lesson?” he asked, his voice low enough that it felt like a challenge.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually offering, or is this just an excuse to watch me wipe out?”

“Can’t it be both?”

It didn’t take much convincing. Soon, you were out in the waves, teetering on a board that felt way too narrow while Rafe stood waist-deep in the water, coaching you with infuriating patience.

“Bend your knees,” he called, arms crossed as he watched you wobble.

“I am bending my knees!” you shot back, nearly toppling over as a wave rushed past.

“Not enough. You look like a baby deer learning how to walk.”

“Keep talking, Cameron, and you’ll find yourself eating sand,” you threatened, though your laugh ruined the effect.

And when you inevitably fell, tumbling into the water with a dramatic splash, he was there. Not with mockery, but with a hand outstretched and a smirk that was far softer than it had any right to be.

“See? Told you it’d be fun,” he said, pulling you upright.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you’re smiling.”

By the time you made it back to the beach, your hair a salty, tangled mess and your cheeks sore from laughing, everyone had noticed.

The months of summer passed by until it was time.

The Midsummer's party was in full swing. Golden lights strung through the trees, laughter and music mingling with the warm summer air. The Kooks were in their finest, flaunting their tailored suits and flowing dresses like it was a royal ball instead of just another night on the Outer Banks.

You had promised yourself you’d stay on the edges, blending into the background with the other staff. But somehow, Sarah had roped you into wearing one of her old dresses, a soft blue number that fit you almost too perfectly.

Rafe saw you the moment you stepped into the garden.

For a second, he didn’t move. His tie hung loose around his neck, his hair slightly mussed like he’d already run his hands through it too many times. But when his eyes locked on you, the easy confidence he usually wore seemed to falter.

He found you by the drinks table, nervously picking at a stray thread on your dress.

“You clean up well,” he said, sliding next to you with that familiar smirk, though his voice lacked its usual teasing edge.

“And you almost look respectable,” you replied, glancing at him with a soft smile.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. For once, he looked unsure, like he was debating whether to say what was on his mind.

“Listen,” he started, shifting his weight. “I was wondering if you’d want to…if you’d go with me. To this thing.”

You blinked, confused. “You mean the party we’re both already at?”

“Yes. No. I mean…” He groaned, looking away for a moment before turning back to you. “I want you to be here with me. Not as Sarah’s friend, not as the girl working the summer. Just… you and me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. “That almost sounded like a confession, Cameron.”

“It is,” he admitted, his voice softer now, his usual confidence replaced by something more sincere. His blue eyes never left yours, and for once, there was no sarcasm in sight. “I like you. I think I’ve liked you for longer than I’d care to admit... but I didn’t want to mess it up.”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your smile. “So you’ve been overthinking this, huh?”

“Maybe just a little,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “But now I’m thinking it’s about time I stopped.”

You stared at him, speechless for a moment, before breaking into a grin. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

He laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, and then extended his hand with a crooked grin. “Well? Are you going to leave me hanging here all night or what?”

Without overthinking it, you placed your hand in his. “Lead the way, Cameron.”

As he tugged you toward the dance floor, the chaos of the party felt like it faded into the background, the noise dimming to nothing. It was just you and Rafe, moving together, the unspoken tension finally slipping away. 

[lostinlads]

Fluffy Treatment

Synopsis: Leaving for a month to travel around the world had been a breath of fresh air, but returning to your family's home is where your heart resided. Your first day back had been hectic, a grand meal with all of your parent's wealthy friends would be held to honor your return. But as you are getting ready, your family's cat butler, Zayne, has come to your side to help you. The mutual missing and longing couldn't be denied as it flowed between the both of you. He would obey his master.

Tags: zayne x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, smut, catboy!zayne, footjob, footplay, p in v, unprotected sex, master/servant play, secret relationship, aphrodisiac (catnip), no use of y/n

Words: 4.4k

an: Here is my fic of zayne's latest catboy card! this isnt completely accurate to the card just taking some inspiration from it, but i hope you enjoy either way!

ao3 | Yes, Cat Caretaker mini series | kofi

One month has come and gone - traveling the world, visiting friends, partying through the night. It honestly felt like a never-ending dream, but this morning when your driver pulled up to your family's estate, you couldn't help but feel relieved. 

One face has been plaguing your thoughts. Well, let's admit it, it's been more than just a face. 

Memories of his hands running over your naked flesh, his hot mouth on yours to silence your moans, soft ears and a bushy tail that drew goosebumps across your skin. You craved him. Dashing hazel eyes that looked at you like you were the finest meal he has ever seen, wanting to feast on you.

Those same eyes that stared at you now through the mirror in your bedroom as you tried on your dinner gown. Not hiding any shame as they sweep over every single blessed inch of your jaw dropping body. 

You stare back, eyes drawing over his wide shoulders, his broad chest, the thick arms that are pulled behind his back. 

The tension in the air between you both is almost electric, one spark could send the entire room ablaze. 

Your fingers twitch at your side, wanting to turn around and reach towards him. Pull him to you just so you can feel him under your fingertips again. Something so forbidden between the both of you yet so sweet and delicious, addictive. You had no intentions of sleeping with your family's cat butler, but the way he falls apart under your touch, breath hitching as he whimpers your name. How could you control yourself?

"How do I look?" You ask, not turning but meeting his eyes in the mirror. They flick up, pouring his heart out in them. The corners of his mouth lift, barely but just enough for you to notice.

"Breath taking as always, my lady." Heart racing in your chest, but you know he can hear it, his sensitive ears flicking to the beat like a drum. Smoothing your hands over your dress, you give yourself one final onceover, making sure every hair is put in place, your dress falling where it's supposed to and hugging what it needs to. 

Satisfied, you turn, letting your eyes run up Zayne's tall figure. He stands there unmoving as always, forced to remain stoic, to not give in. Maybe that's what drew you to him, wanting to break down his reserve and find the man deep within, or maybe it was that he is undeniably attractive. Sharp jaw matching his sharp eyes, large, sure hands, legs that go on for days. Something so magnetic drawing you to him.

"I got you something, you know." A smile playing on your painted lips, because who could honestly forget their favorite cat butler in a month without bringing him a gift in return. He cocks an eyebrow towards you.

"Oh?" Lips pulling up in that barely there smile again. "No need to come baring gifts, my lady. Just being graced by your presence once more is a gift in itself." The flush that coated your cheeks were more than enough, feelings showing without speaking words. You smile up at him, grabbing the small box from the bed and placing it in his hands. 

"It's an 'I missed you' present," Words so quiet, almost as if you were scared of getting caught. Zayne looks at you for a moment, pausing as he feels the weight in his hands, eyes searching yours. 

Slowly, Zayne pulls the lid off and sets it on your bed. You watch as his hazel eyes dilate, nostrils flaring at the scent of catnip. Taking the box from his hands, you hold the cat wand, the bell jingling softly as you move. His eyes darkening, zeroing in on it as you toss the box onto your bed. 

Though he is every bit man, he was still part feline, crumbling and growing hungry over the intoxicating scent of the drug. He doesn't indulge often in treats or toys, but something cracked in his composure every time catnip swirled in his senses. 

His ears twitch as you shake the wand, trying so hard to keep his eyes locked on yours but ultimately failing as you draw the wand up. A ragged breath releases from his lungs almost as if he was holding it. You move, reaching your arm higher towards his head and shake it again. His body shifts, zoned in on the movement and the scent of the toy. Playing like this had always been so pleasuring to you, watching as he fights off his instincts and tries to remain loyal to his orders. 

You move again, walking back, drawing him to you as you shake the toy in front of your own face. His eyes fighting to stay locked on yours but ultimately failing as he snaps them back. His large, glove clad hand reaches out, just barely missing the wand as you pull it away, higher in the air out of his reach. He straightens at once, looming over you with his massive height, brows pinched together tight in disbelief. You got him right where you wanted him, clouded his mind and drew him to you. Tossing the now useless toy to the side you straighten your back, sizing him up. 

Zayne walks towards you, eyes dark and jaw set. Footsteps so sure and precise. Times like these he looked almost intimidating, not being able to help it as you took a few steps back. 

Suddenly you trip, unstrapped heel slipping off of your stocking covered foot. You look down, the shoe laying helpless between the both of you. Sighing you walk to the wide armchair lining the wall, a few steps behind you. Crossing your legs and propping your head in your palm. Zayne walks to you, eyes softening and ears drooping to a more relaxed position.

"Do you know what this cat likes most?" He sighs out, voice hushed. 

"Catnip? Or a cat wand?" Though you knew where he was going, you wanted to play this game, this push and pull you both ended up in. His chuckle is breathy, ears twitching in delight as he looks away for just a moment. 

"Neither," Leaning forward hands caging you in, a smile playing on his lips. "He likes his owner more than anything else." Thick bushy tail swaying lazily behind him, face so close to yours you can feel the heat of his breath as it washes over your face. 

"You made my shoe come off," Eyes drawing down at the discarded shoe, ignoring his advances. 

Obeying, he kneels down, picking up your far too expensive heel, inspecting it as he holds it in his hands. You take the opportunity to reach forward, attempting to grasp his velvet like ears. But he is too fast, twitching them just out of reach, his eyes playful as he catches you in the act.

"Looks like someone hasn't forgotten about touching his ears," The low rumble of his words make your stomach flip. The slow swishes of his tail taunting you from behind him. "A cat won't fulfill all your requests." 

"Really?" You lean forward again, pinching the base of his ear softly before rubbing soothing circles in it. A sharp hiss through his teeth at the contact, making you drop your hand back down to your side. His comes up, caressing the spot, eyes soft and sad.

"It hurts..." Zayne's ears had always been sensitive, the slightest touch always drawing a quiet gasp from him. 

You look down, expectantly as you eye your shoeless foot.

"Help me put on this shoe," Lifting your leg, toes pointed towards his hand as you wait.

"All right." His large hand coming to clasp around the back of your ankle, lifting your foot up as he bends slightly. Lips placing a firm kiss through your stockings, goose bumps rising, drawing out a dull pulse between your legs. "At your service, my lady."

His fingers delicately dance up your arched sole, towards your heel before curling back around your ankle once more, catching your breath in your throat. Cheeks on fire as you watch him with such an intensity, sliding the toe of the shoe over yours, fixing the strap securely on your ankle with a smile playing on his lips. His long fingers dancing along your clothed skin. He looks up at you, a pink blush dusting over his cheeks as he lets out a chuckle. 

"Your hands..." Zayne looks down at them, letting your foot fall back to the floor. Brows drawing back together in the smallest movement. "They still smell like catnip." 

"They do?" You ask in a teasing tone, reaching your index finger forward. Running it along his bottom lip, his hand grasps yours, mouth falling open as he gasps out. Zayne pulls your hand closer, finger resting just between his lips. 

Then you feel his teeth, a small nip to your skin. Not enough to cause blood but just enough for you to let out a shocked gasp, stomach flipping in delight. You pull your hand back a few inches, making him look up at you. Hazel eyes consumed in nothing but lust from the aphrodisiac and the scent of you. Pink blush dusting over his nose. 

"Ow! You know, a good cat butler doesn't bite its owner," You scold with a scoff, eyes flicking to the side for just a moment. But then a rough, wet tongue laps at your skin. The hot stripe of saliva tingles on your skin as you stare at him, trying your hardest to not squeeze your slick thighs together, to not give in and let him know just how bad you need him inside of you.

"This is how I express my affection," Zayne says matter-of-factly, his barely there smile making a return as his tail shows his emotions behind him. 

You pull your hand from his grasp, lunging forward as you take his face in your hands. His ears quickly airplane in shock at your movements.

"Then let me express my affection," You command, shaking his head lightly to the side. "You like that?" 

A breathy moan slips from his lips as you caress his cheeks, his eyes slowly blinking in affection at you. The undeniable smile tugging at your lips as you watch him indulge, letting you warm his skin with yours finally. A deep rumbling purr emanating from his chest as he basks in your touch.

"Besides affection," Pausing, your hand still, cupping his cheek with one as the other ghosts down towards his chin. "I'm curious, do cats feel possessive towards their owners?" Voice dropping an octave, slow and sultry as you lean in and lift his chin, watching his eyes widen. 

Your cat butler smiles, wrapping his fingers around the wrist that cupped his face, clothed thumb brushing over your silky flesh. 

"Of course," Voice so sweet, a million emotions dancing behind it as he speaks. "Just like this..." He nuzzles into your awaiting hand before continuing, a heavy breath drawing in his lungs. "What this gesture means is - this is mine." Eyes meeting yours at the word 'mine'; possessive and claiming. His thick tail swishing behind faster. Zayne places a kiss to your open palm before he nuzzles back into it, the purr becoming so strong it vibrates in your hand. 

"Mmm," You hum, a smirk on your lips as you shake your head. "Kitty, I think you're confused, you're all mine." Words forming a purr as you lean in, faces so close you could smell his scent. Another slow, loving blink of his eyes, his tail coming around to brush up your calf.

"You have no idea how much I've missed this," The raw emotion in his eyes almost makes you pull back, his smile falling. 

You wished you could tell him you loved him, throw all the back and forth aside, throw aside how forbidden it would be to expose your relationship with your family's butler. But him melting into your touch, telling you how he missed your skin on his with those fucking bone melting eyes. Just pour your heart to him, leave everything behind for him.

But that wasn't possible. So, you stone your emotions, forcing a smirk on your lips.

"Why don't you show me?" Thumb brushing just under his eyes as you push him, trying to get him to indulge, take as much as he wants from you.

Zayne's fingers curl around your ankle, pulling your foot forward towards him as he lets out a hot pant of breath. As he grinds against you, his hard erection presses onto your shin. You feel him shutter from the contact, his eyes rolling closed as he presses his face more into your palm, open lips on your skin, feeling every exhale.

Slipping your foot out of your unbuckled shoe, you pull back, hand falling from his face as your back presses against the chair. His eyes flutter open, the slightest pout at the loss of contact from both your hand and shin. But he remains still, refusing to reach out and pull you back to him, diving in for friction. Through his black slacks, you can make out the tent growing at his groin. 

"Already so worked up..." You tsk, shaking your head from side to side, clicking your tongue. "What will we do about that, hm?" Cocking your head to the side, you cross your legs, shoeless foot over the other, tapping it up and down teasing him.

"Please... my lady," He reaches up, fingers drifting up, dusting over your heel, down your arch and latching around your clothed toes. His empty hand clenches at his side, refusing to touch himself as he begs you for any sort of relief. 

With a sigh you uncross your legs, bringing your foot to his chest with his fingers still attached. The shaky, uneven breath could be felt through his suit as you run your foot down his chest and stomach towards the place he needed you the most. Ears sloping as they relax under the building pleasure inside of him.

Finally, you press your foot to his groin, feeling his lengthy erection under your hot skin. He sighs, shifting his hips just slightly enough to get the smallest friction. The smile that spread on your lips couldn't be helped, the mingling emotions of his pleasure and the excited anticipation bubbling inside of you. The month had been too long, the nights too expansive, and Zayne too far away. But here he is, already falling apart, breaking down his walls for you just over a touch. Drool worthy cock so hard, so ready for you. You shift your foot, dragging it down to his base, watching the shudder run under his shoulders. The length mapping itself out under your toes, but far too many layers separated it for your liking. 

"Strip," You command, voice nothing higher than a breath. In an instant, he shrugs his coat off, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt before that too has been discarded. He rises to his knees, thumbing the button of his slacks open, unzipping, then pulling them down along with his boxers. But you stop him there, raising your heeled foot up, right in front of his erect cock. "Fuck it," Eyes locked on his, your chest rising and falling as you wait for him to obey. 

The slick between your thighs growing as you drink him in, deep pink tip inches away from your foot, in need of release. Veins wrapping around his massive length, your mind already drifting to how they feel, every single inch of him a delicious pleasure that you needed inside of you.

Zayne shifts to the side, hands holding your heel still as he slips the tip of his cock between your clothed foot and your shoe. The groan that graces your ears has you gripping your hands at your side is enough to get your mind reeling, trying to control your urges of pushing him down and fucking yourself on him, losing all sense of control and just give in. 

"Feels so good," He groans out through is teeth as he sinks himself to the hilt, pausing there as he catches his breath. His member hot against your arched sole, blood pumping through his veins. 

After a moment, his hips shift, pulling back before thrusting forward, fucking your foot. The friction of his cock through your stockings sent tingles up your spine, shifting in your seat as the uncomfortable thrumming of arousal pooled between your thighs. Watching himself fuck his cock in your shoe, the way his mouth hung open as his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath. You never wanted it to end, not being able to get enough after being deprived for so long. 

Zayne's fingers tighten as you flex your toes, tightening your arch, making the small opening even smaller. He groans out, brows pinching as his pace picks up, cock head disappearing and reappearing as he continues. After you're done, you'd have to toss your stockings away, the wetness growing on them from his leaking cock head soiling them, unable to wear them. But the thought of walking into the dining hall, stockings stained with his precum, a claim of him, made your stomach flip. You flex your toes again, drawing a hungry moan from him as you watch the beads of sweat form at his brows. Eyes trailing down his bare chest, down his flexing stomach, and landing on his freshly shaved groin. You wanted to reach out, run your nails down his skin and watch his muscles seize as he fights back his orgasm.

"Fuck," He swears under his breath, hips moving faster, bumping into the side of your foot, stockings already soaked as his cock easily slides between. You could see how painfully erect he was, feel it. Tip flushed with the rush of blood, aching to release, cock twitching after every few thrusts. 

"You like fucking my feet?" Cooing, his eyes snap to yours, a smile playing on your lips. Your fingers brushing the hair from his damp forehead.

"Love it," Your butler breathes out, hips never stilling, but growing sloppy, the rhythm stalling every once in a while. "Love it, my lady." He repeats with a grunt, hips jerking with a harsh thrust. 

You could tell how close he was, the jerky movements, the rising and falling of his chest in jagged breaths, his hazel eyes cloudy and glossy in a haze. If you didn't stop him, he'd cum all over your foot, leaving nothing left for you. Just that thought alone was more than enough for you to stop him, gripping his strong, muscular arm to still his movements. His ears shifted to the side, confusion and frustration, eyes slowly dragging to your reddened face. 

"Go lay on the bed," Voice sounding distant, you command him. With a swish of his tail he obliges, slowly pulling his aching cock from your shoe and pushing himself up to stand. Shucking the rest of his clothes off, he walks towards your bed - your eyes never leaving his naked frame, raking in every inch. From his tight, toned ass, his fluffy tail that swayed with every footstep, to his muscular back and his wide shoulders. Every single aspect of this man made your core ache for him, like he was made just to pleasure you. 

Not wasting time, you rise to your feet, discarding your lone shoe and pad over to him. Zayne sat on the edge of your massive bed, large thigs spread, red, angry cock resting against his stomach as he allowed himself to be used. You slot yourself between his thighs, hands resting on his shoulders as you feel the heat of his body radiate around you. His hands cup the back of your knees, you can feel how clammy they were through the thin, skintight fabric. Hands pushing you to him, lifting your legs to climb onto his bare lap, hovering just over his wet cock. His face leaning in, lips hovering over yours, teasing.

"Let me please you, mistress," Breath washing over you, filling your lungs as you inhale him. Before you know it, his hands reach up, fingers curling around your tights. The rip of them sounded so overwhelmingly loud in your silent room, almost echoing off the walls. The moan that slipped from your lips wasn't intentional, eyes rolling back as your muscles almost giving out from just the action alone. You could hear his chuckle through the cloud of arousal in your mind, almost taunting at how quickly you fall while he's in control.

That wakes you up, snapping out of the fog. You push him back onto the mattress, a woosh of breath leaving his lungs as he falls, eyes widening and ears standing to attention. Not wasting any time, you reach between your bodies and push your panties to the side, guiding his cock inside of your soaked cunt. He fills you slowly, pushing through your walls, knocking your head back as you try to control yourself from being too loud. Your family was here after all, floating around the house, getting last minute preparations finished for your welcome home party. But somehow that only turned you on even more, fucking your cat butler while you should be getting dressed, ruining your clothes just so he could cum inside of you again.

Zayne's hands grip your hips, desperate for more. Once you take him completely, he hisses through his teeth, thick thighs tensing beneath your body, willing himself not to release yet. You wouldn't last long either, one entire month without his cock inside of you made your stamina nonexistent, just him alone inside of you now, you could feel the familiar tight coil binding on itself in your core. As you both catch your breath, your small hand runs up his chest, so smooth under your touch, freshly shaved how you told him you liked it. You fought back a smile, not giving into your emotions, not yet. Instead, you keep going higher, hand resting at the base of his throat, feeling the groan he lets out as you tighten your fingers slightly, feeling the jump of his cock at the movement. A rumbling purr in his chest, vibrations so strong you can feel them jitter up your arm.

He couldn't hold back any longer, tightening his hands around your hips, bucking his hard cock deep inside of you. Throwing your head back you cry out, eyes wide as you can feel him brush against that mind numbing spot inside of you, his head kissing it with every movement. He thrusts again, a low growl as he grinds his teeth together, your body jumping with his hips. He is relentless, pounding himself in your pussy at a desperate attempt to chase both of your highs, them building together in an almost perfect sync. Drawing the most beautiful noises from your lips, sending his predator instincts into a frenzy, feeding on them as he fights for more. 

"Oh!" You cry, falling to his chest, burying your face into his damp neck, his cock hitting impossibly deeper into your quivering cunt. You could taste it, your orgasm looming over you as you try to meet his now sloppy thrusts.

"'M close-" He hisses out, hands repositioning onto your ass, fingers sinking into the fatty flesh. He pushes you down, meeting his thrusts as the lewd wet slapping of your bodies bounce around the room. Anyone standing in the hall would be able to hear, but you couldn't give less of a care right now, the way he fucks himself inside of you dumbing your brain and making you drool. His tail brushing against your foot as it swipes up your leg, curling around you in need to touch you. Your hand grips his chest, nails sinking in as your mouth falls open into an O, orgasm on the tip of your tongue.

"Zayne-" You try to choke out, a whimper cutting your words of as your eyes roll back. "Coming!" Is all you manage before the hot heat runs over your body, curling your toes and burying your face into his neck as you cry out. The gush of wetness between the both of you only intensifying the noises your bodies made as his last few thrusts fuck himself inside of you. Then you feel the first hot rope, a deep groan ripping from his throat as his cock leaks into you. You feel how it pulsates, the throbbing only making the last lick of your orgasm even more intense, legs shaking just from his feeling alone. Zayne's strong arms wrap around you, holding you both still as he empties completely inside of you. 

The both of you lay like that, breath heavy as you can feel his load seeping out of your abused hole, cock softening inside. His arms stay locked around you, not wanting to let you go just yet, or maybe ever again now that he finally has you back. But right now, you don't mind, listening to his rapid beating heart, feeling his damp skin on yours, the scent of him surrounding you. 

"I love you," Your ears almost don't catch those three little words. Said so lightly it could've been a blowing breeze through the room. But his unmistakable voice is what blessed your ears. Body growing hot, his confession slipping out. You don't move, shock settling in your bones. "I know it's inappropriate, I understand if you want me to leave, my lady. But I couldn't-" You cut him off, pushing yourself from his chest, both of your arms holding you up, caging him in. 

The smile on your lips seemed to relax him, eyes softening, ears relaxing - even his tail lightly thumped against the bed. 

"I love you," You whisper, watching the flush bloom on his face, lips falling open in a gasp. You were finally able to admit it, after months of sneaking around and shoving your emotions deep down your throat, they felt so easy as they flowed from your mouth. 

His sudden movement shocked you, a shriek squealing from your lips as he lifts you and flips you onto your back. He hovers over you with a lazy smile, one only ever reserved for these secret moments with you. Without stopping himself, he leans in and kisses you, lips molding together like puzzle pieces, your heart pounding in your chest but your skin growing warm. 

Cupping his face, you give in. Allowing yourself to bask in his love while he was here with you. Never wanting it to end.

[heian-era-housewife]

Sex, Smut, & Scuttlebutt

Lately I've seen a growing number of virgins, "new-cummers", and even seasoned sex vets voicing their concerns or frustrations with the unrealistic portrayal of sex within smut. Adult fictions are so fun to read and write and even more fun to act out in real life (with a trusted partner), but they are fiction. Quite often exaggeratedly so and in no way representative of what really goes on behind closed doors, or open (you do you babes).

Nevertheless these concerns and frustrations are real, they are valid, and they deserve to be acknowledged. And so, without further ado, I present to you the very real, very raw, and sometimes very unsexy side of sex.

(Though tbh nothing Ryomen Sukuna does could ever be categorized as 'unsexy')

Love to you all, no matter your experience 😘

Pairings | Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Higuruma, Toji, and of course Sukuna 💕

Content | mdni, smut, fem!reader x jjk men, piv, oral (both f-to-m and vice versa), pubes, blood, sex on period, first time, Toji eats a worm. It's fine. Don't worry about it.

Word Count | 3.3k

Gojo:

White Hair...Everywhere

You've been ignoring it for a while now. Well...trying to anyway. The faint tickle on the back of your tongue has grown into a sharp pinprick that jabs at your throat with each bob of your head. It's uncomfortable, it's distracting, and worst of all it is threatening to trigger your gag reflex.

Gojo gasps and whimpers, long fingers running through your hair, pulling you toward him as he edges closer to his climax. It's all you can do to focus on the task at hand when his sudden thrusts render the job impossible. You gag and sputter against the source of your irritation, eyes streaming as you pull away from his hungry cock. 

Confusion and poorly concealed dissapointment in his words of longing barely register as you wretch, two of your own fingers stuffed to the back of your throat. 

You turn to meet his eyes with yours still streaming as you reveal the cause for disruption. With your middle and index finger you pull a long, coiled, pure white hair from deep within your throat. 

"I think this belongs to you," you tease, wiping drool from your chin and flicking the stray pube his direction.

"Oof. My bad," he squirms, one hand sheepishly rubbing against his undercut. 

"Shall we resume?" You offer with a playful smile, making a show of patting away his snowy bristles before taking his twitching length back into your mouth.

"Phewww!" He whistled. "I thought for a second sexy time was over!"

"It wiw be ith you don' shu-up," you mocked, mouth full and voice muffled. You reached a hand around to give one of his ass cheeks an impish squeaze for good measure. Gojo laughed playfully before falling back into a steady rythm of whines and whimpers.

Geto:

Welcome to the Jungle

Unwaivering confidence was one of the things you loved so much about Suguru Geto. On a scale of 1-10 his sex appeal was an 11 and you were about to find out for yourself exactly why he was so damn self-assured.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but obsess over all your flaws and imperfections. Your outfits, those stretch marks, and was that =sniff, sniff= body odor?? 

But this was not the time to get lost in insecurity because you were perched pretty as a peach on his apartment sofa while Suguru stood, hastening to undo his belt, never once relinquishing that calm and cocky smile.

You gazed at him loftily, cheeks growing flushed, heart pounding in your ears. Your groin ached with longing as he stripped down to plain black boxer briefs and reached forward to help you down to bra and panties. Nerves and excitement churned in your core creating a volitile compound that set your heart ablaze. It was all too good to be real.

Finally, he guided your hands toward his own hips, placing them on the hem of his boxers, inviting you to remove his final garment.

Your brain buzzed with electric anticipation as you pulled downward, revealing that which, until this moment, you had only imagined. 

And there it was. 

And there you were.

Your buzzing brain cutting to standby as static filled your senses and every decision you'd ever made leading to this exact point in time sent you into a hurling spiral of doubt and regret.

Because Geto had shaved.

And you had not. 

Not now...not ever. Frankly, it hadn't even occured to you before. 

Insecurities came flooding in causing you to lose yourself entirely until the gentle touch of his strong hand on your pantyline dragged you forcefully back to your grim reality.

"NO!" You shrieked, pulling frantically from his reach. 

"Oh! Have I hurt you?" He asked with concern as you wished with every fibre of your being for a quick and painless death. 

"It's just...you're so pretty," you breathed, lip almost trembling as you spoke.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, cocky little smile returning to his perfect playboy face.

"And I'm...well..." you slipped off your own panties awkwardly, revealing a lush and uncut jungle, knowing you were already past the point of no return.

"You're.....?" Suguru prompted.

"I'm...you know...this!" You gestured to your unkempt garden.

"You're...female?" He finished, confused.

"NO!" He was missing the point. "I'm a gross unshaven mess! And you're...what? The centerfold of next month's Playgirl?"

Geto laughed, much louder than you expected, snorting as he did so. "That's what you're worried about??"

"That and a million other things...yeah!" You sulked, tears brimming your lashes as you slumped, defeated against the sofa.

"Come here," he said, pulling you close, forgetting entirely about his unclothed state. "I think you're sexy just the way you are. And, if I'm being honest, shaving is a real pain in the ass anyway."

Giggling to yourself, you watched as his impressive length grew soft and diminished as his arousal shifted to concern for you. 

"Hey!" He objected, throwing a pillow over his lap. "He was just worried about you, give him a minute," he teased.

Both of you laughed as you snuggled on the couch together, sharing doubts and insecurities, reassuring one another, and settling in for a long night. One full of love making that was sure to be genuine, sometimes awkward, but far better than any magazine.

Nanami:

Corporate Cock Block

Nanami was pent up. Not only had he been called on a particularly large number of missions this week, he'd been forced into overtime nearly every day. Now that he was home, he was desperately looking forward to nothing more than dissolving in your arms and seeing where the night might take you both.

Needless to say, he was more than thrilled when you suggested skipping dinner and going straight for dessert. That's right. You were pretty pent up yourself. And who was he to deny his pretty and incredibly patient wife what she needed?

"Thank you-hah-for being so-mhh-understanding this-hahhh-week", he breathed through passionate kisses, slipping off his suspenders and tossing his goggles to the side.

Movements punctuated by more steamy kisses, you helped him take off his tie and belt while he worked his fingers up and under your shirt to skillfully unsnap your bra.

He backed you down the hall and together you fell onto the bed, both panting in excitement as clothing fell hastily to the floor.

Just then, the phone rang. His phone. Illuminated harshly against the evening's fading light revealing none other than Satoru Gojo as the caller. Nanami went rigid.

"Hun," you said softly, "it's okay if you need to-"

"No." He asserted, cutting you off. "He's had enough of my time. I'm off the clock and I'm spending this evening with my wife."

The seriousness in his tone was all you needed to know it was case closed, so as he let it go to voicemail, the two of you resumed your game of lips and hands.

Time passed, Nanami was absolutely aching for you, and you were practically trembling in anticipation. As he lined himself up, you closed your eyes ready to melt at the feeling of him entering your throbbing core. And that's when it happened. Again. The name "Satoru Gojo" shone through the darkness as Nanami's phone lit up your room.

"I'm going to kill him," Nanami said calmly, head hanging in frustration as he imagined all the ways he could cleave his obnoxious coworker in a perfect 7:3 ratio.

"Kento..." you whispered, bringing him back to reality. "I really don't mind if you need to-"

"Absolutely not! This is our time. You and me."

"But what if he needs-"

"There is nothing he could need from me that is more important than what's right in front of me," voice dripping with sincerity.

"I love you, Ken."

"I love you too. Truly," he replied. "Shall we?"

Picking up where you left off, he gave himself a few quick strokes before plunging deep into your core. Tension and relief unraveling as he worked his strong hips passionately between your shaking legs.

***

As the love making continued, a new tension was building within both of you and Nanami could feel himself reaching his climax, breaths coming sharp and shallow as he felt his nearing release.

"Im so close," He breathed.

"Me too, baby," you gasped.

And then...

=RINGGGGGG=

Nanami cracked.

Snapping up his phone while pounding the ever-loving life out of you, you heard his voice loud and hostile as he snarled into the speaker.

"Satoru Gojo, so help me God I have half a mind to cut you down where you stand. Do you know how long I've waited to FUCK my WIFE?! How many nights this week I had to give up SEX with HER just to follow your sorry ass around chasing curses and cleaning up the FILTH of this city?! I was about to give her one SPECIAL GRADE, MIND-BLOWING ORGASM before you-" he stopped thrusting, blood draining from his face, feral sneer dropping into a hollowed out look of utter humilation.

"Principal Yaga I- of course, sir, I'm so sorry...Yes..yes..right away. I understand. Again, I'm so- no of course not. I appreciate your discretion...I'll see you soon...bye."

Your eyes widened in horror as you listened to his conversation, unsure which end was worse.

"I..uh...I have to go. I'm needed at the school," he muttered sheepishly, unable to meet your shocked gaze.

"Yeah, I gathered that," you said with a nervous laugh.

You helped him get dressed, giving him a tight hug and wiping the beading sweat off his brow as he stumbled back out the door.

"Kento!" You called as he headed in the direction of the school. He turned to look at you, defeat written in his tired features. "Come home safe, okay?"

"Of course, love," he rasped, weakly.

"You still owe me that 'special grade, mind-blowing orgasm'," you teased with a wink.

Shaking his head, you heard him laugh as he hurried toward his next mission.

Higuruma:

Erection Overruled!

Hiromi's long week has finally drawn to an end and as your tired and more-than-likely dishevelled man makes his way home to slump into his favorite chair and fall asleep, you want to make sure he gets to finish the week out properly. You've spent the afternoon hard at work yourself, cleaning up, picking just the right music, and slinking in to that silky little black robe you know he loves slipping you out of.

The mood is set, candles are lit, and as if on cue Higuruma stumbles in through the front door, dropping his briefcase, and sagging languidly into his favorite chair. You approach from behind, running fingers through his dark and unkempt hair, tipping his head back with a provocative "Welcome home," allowing him to savor the view.

Experience tells him there's not a thing beneath that robe and his eyes grow wide and hungry as he scrambles to his knees, facing backward in his chair to take you in. He burries his nose against you as he presses passionate kisses to your collarbones, moving to nip at your neck, trailing his tongue upward and landing just below your earlobe before whispering , "I've waited all week for this."

One very steamy makeout session later, you find yourselves in the bedroom, working quickly to remove each other's clothing, air thick with ravenous longing. But as you slip him out of his trousers taking his not even half-hard cock into your loving hands, things start to feel a bit off.

Nothing a few good strokes can't fix, you think to yourself, stealing a downward glance at his would-be errection-  flaccid, but hopeful.

~

Some time later there's still little change in terms of rigidity and you notice the exhaustion building behind his determined features. Knowing his pride is at stake, you start to wonder if it might just be best to let your tired man rest and resume love making another time. Opting for a mix of tact and humor, you make the judgement call.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I move to postpone today's proceedings until the defendant can get some well-deserved and very much needed rest."

Hiromi's eyes snap open. "Objection!" He barks automatically, surprising himself.

"Overruled!" You reply, tapping his tip once against his tummy as though holding a gavel. 

A moment of silence as you stare at each other seriosuly and then...

"PFFFTTT!" You both burst out laughing at the ridiculous scene. He pulls you in for more kisses and you lay together wiping tears from your eyes as the laughter continues. 

Turning on his side he offers, "Motion to reconvene tomorrow morning?"

"Motion granted!"

More laughter. A heavy sigh and then, "Thanks for understanding," he says.

"Impartiality is my job, afterall," you continue the act. 

Pulling your head to his chest he scruffles your hair until you fight him off, giggling. 

This isn't the first and probably won't be the last time your romantic pursuits as a couple are thwarted by exhaustion, but you know that with a little patience and a good night's sleep he'll be a different man come morning, when your courtship is back in session.

Choso:

Shark Week 

Choso's not just new to sex. He's new to life itself. Loving him brings you the unique opportunity of experiencing the world for the very first time through his eyes. 

The eldest of his brothers, he's already learned so much, but he still relies on you to guide him through his many firsts as both a lover and a mentor for all of life's unexpected moments- the good, the bad, and the painfully awkward. 

That is why, when you hear a sharp, panicked little gasp as he pulls out of you, dick still twitching from his orgasm just moments before, you suspect you are in for another brand new encounter.

"What's a'matter Cho?"

"Uhm..." He swallows hard, eyes trained downward. "It's...it's not there."

"What's not there?" You question, sitting up against your elbows trying to glimpse whatever it is he's staring at.

"The condom," He says weakly, mouth going dry. "It's just gone!"

"Ohh!" You reach a knowing hand between your legs. "It probably just came off inside me."

"Is that bad?!" He asks, voice thick with worry.

"Not necessarily. You can probably just pull it out if it's right there."

He slides two hesitant fingers over your entrance, feeling for the rubbery traitor that's caused him such distress. 

"Oh! I found it!" He sighs, relieved, pulling it gently from your core.

"See? Nothing to worry abou-"

"OH NO!" He cries, forcing you to sit up in alarm.

"What's wrong? Is it ripped?"

"You're bleeding! There's-" He looks as though he might pass out. "There's so much!"

"What?! I-" Realzation hits you as he holds up the stretched out condom, slick with glossy crimson. Feeling between your legs, you pull your hand away, stringy and viscous from a mix of blood and fresh arousal. 

"Oh Cho I'm sorry. I think I started my-"

"I can't believe I hurt you! I thought I was being gentle! Maybe it's my cursed technique?? No...that can't-" 

"Cho I-"

"I can fix it! Hang on let me just-"

"Choso!" He pauses his string of frantic babble to look at you. Deep lines etched across his troubled face. "Cho, I think I just started my period," You say, reaching your other hand to comfort your worried man.

"Oh. You mean 'shark week'?"

You laugh as he recalls the nickname you taught him for that notorious time of the month. "Yes hun, shark week."

"Was it...because of me?" He asks, eyes brimming with shame and guilt.

"No, my love!" You giggle at his innocence. "Just a coincidence. I'm sorry I scared you!"

A wave of relief washed over him as he clutched his chest, watching you get up and head toward the bathroom. 

"I thought maybe I broke you somehow..."

"I know, sweet boy," You called from the hall. "You did nothing wrong. But when I come back we're going to cuddle like there's no tomorrow!"

"That....sounds nice" he said with a sigh, collapsing backward on the bed, brain tired and foggy from the day's latest lesson. 

"Wait!" He called, suddenly excited. "Does this mean chocolate ice cream and movie night??"

"You really are a quick study!" You praise.

Running to grab the ice cream he calls, "I think I can get used to shark week!"

Toji:

Three's a Crowd

Toji is a lone wolf. An elusive rogue agent. He holds everyone at arm's distance, including you. That is...until recently, anyway.

What started as casual hookups in seedy bars and late-night love hotels, hell even the back of a cab once (actually maybe twice...you were rather drunk), has turned into pseudo dates and sober conversation. To be honest, you've fallen pretty hard for your man of mystery and the last thing you want to do is scare him off now. That's why, when he finally invites you to his place for the first time, you're determined not to blow it.

"It's not much, but it's home." He says, leading you through the front door of a shabby back-alley apartment. Despite his somewhat delinquent nature, his apartment is well-kept and the made-up bed you spot through an open door near the back looks far more inviting than the sleazy moth-eaten matresses and dive bar sofas where you've been spending your less-than-romantic moments.

Grabbing his hand, you practically drag him back there, excited to see where he lays his head at night, smell the cologne on his sheets. He stumbles behind, a goofy yet seductive grin stretching the scar on the corner of his lips that you're just dying to taste.

As you step into the darkened bedroom, a small sound grabs your attention. Atop the dresser something is breathing- sputtering. You pause, trying to get a look at the noise's source, realizing Toji must have a pet. Your heart skips as you imagine this macho miscreant returning home to a small, soft animal for whom he shares a rare bit of affection. Fucking adorable.

The creature, appearing only as a shapeless mound at first (is it a cat?) turns to look at you. And that's when you freeze. Because there in his room, peering at you through swollen, squinted eyes, frothy drool dribbling down its pudgy face, is a gigantic....worm???

"Toji!" You gasp, turning back to hide behind the muscular arm you're now grasping for dear life. "What the hell is that thing?!"

"Oh." He says curiously, "You can see it?"

"OF COURSE I CAN SEE IT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THING'S FUCKIN' HUGE!"

"Heh," he chuckles, amused. "It won't hurt ya. C'mere."

Without even another glance at the demonic creature, Toji pushes you against the bed, bringing his large frame down over you, rutting his hips as he feasts hungrily on your neck. You want to lose yourself in the throes of his passion, you really do. But all you can think about is the thing on the dresser. Turning under the weight of Toji's advances to see if it's still there, you find yourself making direct eye contact with the hideous overgrown catarpillar.

You can't believe he's not distracted. Can't believe he hasn't said a single word about the little drooling monster. And as Toji makes quick work of undressing while he hovers over you, you find yourself unable to contain your inner thoughts.

"Toji...it's so...long!" You say, eyeing the thing warily.

"Mm...I know, Doll," he agrees.

"I mean like...it's gigantic!" You mewl covering your eyes in disgust.

"Hah...so I've heard," he admits, slipping off your panties from beneath your skirt.

"And it...I don't know...it looks hungry. Like...it's about to tear me apart..."

"If that's what you want, love," he growls with a forward thrust.

"Seriously, Toji, I don't know if I can do this! It's just so gross!"

"...Gross?" He looks like he's been punched in the gut.

"Yeah! Gross and purple!"

"Purple?!" Pulling out, he stares down at his cock. "Fuck you mean, purple?!" Then, following your gaze he says, "You're not still on about that damn worm, are you??"

"What did you think I was talking about?!"

"Look, if it bothers you that much, I'll get rid of it." Without another word, he gets up from the bed, crosses the room to the dresser, takes the creature in his hands before crunching it down into a tiny ball and swallowing it whole.

"Now are we gonna get freaky or what?" He huffs.

Oh, we are wayyyy past freaky, you think to yourself.

Who the hell was this mysterious man of yours? You're left with more questions than answers. But despite the horror you just witnessed one thing has you smiling...arm's distance or not, you doubt very seriously anything you do could scare him off.

Sukuna:

Thousand-Year-Old Virgin

Sukuna is a hardened, battle-ready, godlike being of prowess and prestige, decorated by time itself. Stranger to no man and no challenge, his many achievements transcend the millenia. He has seen and done things even those with rich and deeply fulfilled lives will never experience.

Let's face it, he's a thousand fucking years old. So that's why, when he mumbled something under his breath, something you thought could only be some type of strange joke, you were too stunned to laugh. And the fact that you didn't is the only reason you're still alive. That, and he's fallen rather profoundly in love with you, but he won't be admitting to that any time soon.

So when he pulls away from your lips to stare sheepishly at his bare feet criss-crossed in front of him before uttering the words you're sure you must have heard wrong, you ask him to please repeat himself.

"I've never done this before..." he gruffs, crossing both sets of arms and averting his gaze to the side with a nose-crinkling sneer.

"Done...what?" You ask, innocently.

"This! All of this!" He barks, waving his arms in frustration.

Your brain is working overtime just to read between the lines. He's acting like it's obvious, but you can't understand which "this" he's referring to.

"I don't get what-"

"SEX OKAY!" He gruffs bitterly. "I've never had sex!"

You just stare. Lips parted slightly as your jaw hangs limp, still unsure you've heard him correctly.

"And would you stop looking at me like that??" He scowls.

"'Kuna, I...I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, well...neither do I," he admits, still avoiding your gaze.

"It's just that you're...a thousand years old...I guess I just figured in that time you would have-"

"I didn't get to where I am by running around like some dog in heat," he retorts. "I spent my time getting stronger, strategizing, honing my cursed technique. Then I was sealed away for a few hundred years. When the hell would I have-"

"I never thought of it like that. But I figured Heian Era and all, the 'King of Curses' must have had concubines, right?"

"Yeah? So? I had a bunch of that old-timey shit!" He spouted. You had to stifle a laugh this time. "Doesn't mean I cared. I was...you know...a little busy conquerring the world?"

It was beginning to sink in. The King of Curses, God of the Heian Era, the Great Ryomen Sukuna sat on a shelf like a minted doll for a thousand years, completely untouched, and you- little modern nobody you- were about to take his "v-card". You felt giddy.

"'Kuna," You began, reaching out to take his face in your hands, compelling him to look at you. He hissed as you did so. "Ryomen. We don't have to do this."

"No, I want-"

"If you really want to, that's fine. Just know that it's going to be messy. Probably a little awkward. Maybe a lot awkward! Heck, I don't even know what to do about the extra set of limbs and...appendages," You laughed, giving his thigh a squeaze. He rolled his eyes. You continued earnestly, "I just want you to know it's okay not to know it all- not to get everything perfect. That's where the trust comes in...and where the memories are made."

He heaved a deep sigh, turning away again as he became lost in thought.

"Hey, Ryo?"

"What, brat?"

"Thanks for waiting for me," you wink.

"Don't flatter yourself," he grumps, a rougey glow tingeing his cheeks.

"Of course not," you smile. Then, eyeing his extra arms you continue. "So I just have one question..."

"Speak."

"Will we need one condom, or two?"

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs always appreciated, but never expected.

MDNI banner credit to @cafekitsune

Special thanks to @heian-era-househusband for always listening to my stories and for being my trusted partner 💕

[dollyfetti]

i wanted this to rhyme like a dr seuss story but lowk some of them don't make much sense so i apologize!! working on other katsmas stuff now, will hopefully get them out soon <3

grinch!bakugou once celebrated christmas, just once, in his life. though truly, it was only because of you, the perfect girl he'd envisioned as his future wife. he remembers it oh so clearly, that day, so grim and dreary when his punk 8 year old self felt the most bleary. stupid shoto todoroki, with his stupid calmness, had stolen your heart with ease on christmas eve.

grinch!bakugou doesn’t recall how you stared at him in agony when he’d threw a heartbreaking fit over the cruel laughs that had pierced him. he never saw the angry tears in your eyes, the hurt that you couldn’t speak. your quiet sorrow made him believe you were just as weak.

grinch!bakugou spent most of his life on a tall, lonely hill, avoiding the world below, hiding from all the chill. every few weeks, when couraged dared to grow, bakugou would venture to torment whoville, that idiotic little town, to spread his own woe. 

grinch!bakugou hated when little eri strolled into his cave and begged him to come to her town to celebrate christmas. he hated it even more when she whispered with a grin, that you’d be there too, at the whobilation as you'd always been.

grinch!bakugou not so subtly quizzed the precious girl about her “interview” with you, in a twist of a swirl. he’d scrunched up his nose when she shyly quoted your words, “he was a gangly thing, katsuki. i almost fell out my seat when he threw the christmas tree.. nobody knew he had such muscles.” if only you could see him now! all grown and spry, with jacked arms and thighs that could surely defy. bakugou's pride swelled, though he’d never admit, he'd certainly show you, just wait, just sit.

grinch!bakugou who had an internal wrestling match with himself before deciding he’d go. 

grinch!bakugou never hated shoto todoroki as much as he did this day, when he came upon him, the mayor of whoville, standing besides you in his usual cool sway. you, his darling, love, and lady. and believe it or not, bakugou was quite shady, throwing grunts and growls of curses toward the man.

grinch!bakugou couldn’t believe it when the whos around him began cheering at his participation in the whobilation traditions. when he’d harshly judge their puddings with a scowl, they cheered. when he rode around in the chair of cheer as the crowned cheermeister of the year (an odd affair), they cheered louder. when he won the sack race, you cheered too loudly, by mistake, joy bubbling from you, making his heart start to shake.

grinch!bakugou’s festivities were cut short when todoroki handed him a hateful “present” to cause pain, to remind him of his past days as a measly 8 year old strain. his scowl grew bigger still when half and half proposed to you with an abnormally large diamond ring with an icy thrill, along with a brand new car. whoville truly believed the brawn was going to blow up into the stars. 

eri thought for sure that he’d blow them all away, but the grinch had his own role to play. he didn’t like the spotlight, not unless it was for praise, but this time, he took it-- much to their daze. with a sharp nail, he scratched the shiny new ride before grabbing some mistletoe, standing with pride. he flocked up next to you with almost cheeky eyes, and bent over, yelling to all of the town, "KISS MY ASS WHOVILLE!"

that's when chaos began.

the great christmas tree, right in the square, caught fire, ablaze with a fiery flare. but that was just the start of grinch!bakugou’s plan to steal christmas away and ruin the the whos' year.

in a manner so vile, he dressed up as santa, sneaking through homes with a wicked smile. he swiped all the presents, the food, the lights, the furniture too-- and the evil did it with delight.

the next morning, whoville awoke with a cry. the town was in shambles, with no gifts left to buy. while eri’s father, aizawa, stood filled with shame as the mayor accused him at fault, eri climbed the eerie mountain once more, calling bakugou’s name.

she pleaded with him, "save the town, please do!" but he'd come to a realization before she arrived. however, her kind words still reached him, and his heart grew. so down he came, with a sleigh full of loot, riding through whoville to present their belongings.

the whos cheered with relief, but then you cried out, “wait!” you took your ring from the sleigh, and handed it to shoto, sealing your fate. "i’m sorry, my dear, but my heart belongs to another," you said, and then turned to bakugou, who also, turned around, before realizing you meant him!

grinch!bakugou, surprised, paused for a beat. though quickly, a wicked grin spread across his face, his joy complete. with a cruel cackle that rang out, dark and sly, he wiggled his finger at an astonished todoroki who'd sighed in defeat.

grinch!bakugou wrapped an arm around you with a loud, proud shove, still laughing in the mayor’s face. his true love was love. “i guess,” said the crowd, “he’s not changed that much, but perhaps he's found a soft touch.”

[anantaru]

I HATE EVERYONE BUT YOU

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — scaramouche has always been yours, yet he needs you to know that you'll always be his no matter what— even when you get all flustered while he shows you.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — in scaramouche we what?

— ꒰ wordcount ꒱ — 1.7k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, jealous! reader, dom scara, rough sex but very passionate, scara hates everyone but you, slightly possessive scara, spitting, cumming inside of you

"you have nothing to worry about,"

"stop thinking about it and look at me," fingers gracefully trace on your bare skin, "because i need you to realize," drawing all sorts of shapes into your searing flesh, like subtle curves into your ribs, "that you'll never get rid of me," and lines dragging across your stomach when scaramouche's hand ultimately settles on your hips.

your stomach does flips at his words, and a fresh tide of relief cuts through your initial doubts. he grins and clicks his tongue, eyes dancing with amusement when he catches your shyness, "hm? what's up with you? where's this pretty voice of yours now?" and that smile, ugh, he cannot help himself but irritate you abundantly, especially when he knows how you'd react to his words.

"shut up," you hiss, "don't do that,"

"do what?" he cocks a brow, "—that?" he breathes, boldly as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles. the fire in his eyes was hard to miss and when he feels your body react to his loving trace, he's more than happy to indulge in those waves of lust— most notably show you that he'll never go away.

"fuck—" you whine, "you're mean," and you find out that his thoroughly chosen words would end up adding fuel to the looming wildfire burning between you both, the two of you high on the tension and rush smoldering the air.

and scaramouche's confessions were driving you into a spiral.

"careful there," he coos, "take it slow," for him, there was no competition, and even if there was a competition, you're not in it. you're above everything. you're perfect, no one could ever set his heart ablaze like you did.

scaramouche hums, "you're stuck with me." he candidly bites down on your bottom lip, "okay?" when you nod vigorously at him, your hips leaving the bed as your back arches into his digits, your hands finding immediate comfort in his hair as you tug softly at his roots to press his lips on yours.

scaramouche was pretty when he looked at you like that, kissed you like he needed you to survive— dreamily while flushed, his cheeks seething with scarlet redness when he inhales deeply for a moment.

but he's not used to all of this, and he didn't like the fact that you could become jealous sometimes— after all, humans suffer more in imagination rather than in reality, and you have nothing to worry about, scaramouche certainly thought he made that very much clear.

but he's embarrassed, although not because of the fact that he might've gotten too close to someone who wasn't you and experienced regret, which, in fact, wasn't possible.

he simply cannot stand anybody besides you.

truth be told, he's a little annoyed that you forgot about the fact that he wasn't a big talker per se, he even actively chose his schedule so he wouldn't see a lot of people, or anyone for that matter. scaramouche never sought out to make any meaningful friendships with the people of the akademiya as well— despite the god of wisdom helplessly attempting to push him out of his comfort zone.

with that out of the way, the real reason as to why scaramouche was embarrassed was quite silly, because it's due to what your jealousy did to him— fuck, he finds it beyond attractive, yet he refuses to acknowledge that a special heat conquered his chest like that, reaching his groin until he couldn't think straight.

there's a delicate challenge in your ways of reacting when he tells you that you mustn't be jealous, and scaramouche drinks it like water— he knows you're everything he's ever wished for, like ice cream on a hot summer day, you're melting his heart.

he nuzzles into your skin to inhale your scent, leaves soft kisses on your cheekbones while holding your jaw, making you look directly at him.

does he need to show you that he's utterly addicted to you? so, do you require it like a challenge of sorts? because archons, he'll do it, easy work easy done.

to note, it's not scaramouche's fault that people want to talk to him and are curious about the new addition to the akademiya— yet he doesn't like them, it's pestering when they get too close to him as well, ask if he could talk a little more about where he was coming from because they wanted to be nice, civil but end up making him scoff with a roll of his eyes.

enjoying his own company was fine to scaramouche— and he always found himself fantasizing about you all the time, particularly about your soft laughs and candid smiles, your voice, your stories and your understanding was like a sweet melody to the wanderer, and he could indulge in it during his breaks, before he needed to finish a mission, or he could imagine it every single night before he'd fall asleep to the thought of you.

your body was rubbing against his now, sweat colliding as he removes his fingers from your cunt and wraps them around his erection, pretty dark lashes accentuating his flaring cheekbones while you loop your arms around him— parting your legs a little so he could easily slide himself in.

scaramouche gently adds pressure on your tight hole before moving his hips, but it's slow— gentle and delicate that you can feel every crevice of his length in you.

a soft moan rips from his throat as you mold around him easily, feeling him attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of your walls as your hips twitch at the slight sting deep in your abdomen.

scaramouche was as desperate as ever to show you his love through physical attention— and the word shame didn't seem to find a place in his phraseology when he forces your gaze back under his. "open and stick your tongue out," he taps, once twice, against your lips with his thumb, "wanna taste me, right? so do it now," while keeping his throbbing dick buried inside as he purposefully moves his hips a little to make you squeal.

you cannot help the way your lips curve into a smile before you're parting your lips, applauding his efforts to claim you. it's merciless when he bundles the saliva budding in his mouth before spitting on your tongue, his crystalline eyes open to catch your tremble— how can he not indulge in this? you're nothing short of perfect, pleading for him to give you more.

"show me," he commands further, groaning deep into his chest when he looks at his saliva melting with your own and how it's dribbling from your chin, his length twitching rapidly as you try to steady your breathing at the sinful scenario you're living through.

scaramouche's hands clench at your waist as he fucks you as passionate as he can, his cock pressing against the overstimulated bud in your pussy before starting slow circles with his hips, your mouth huffing out candid i love you's amidst your moans.

inch by inch he slides into you, in and out in rapid movements, the more you take the better it felt having him rub your pleasure spots he so desperately desired to feel suck on his shaft and milk the cum out of his cock. he finds it cute when your face suddenly scrunches up if he moves faster than previous, your jaw parting in awe at how much better it felt the more he upped his tempo to batter your sore pussy.

it feels good— it always does, and if being a little jealous here and there would always result in this, than you'd gladly play your part as much as he needed it. it's almost like you don't hear yourself moaning and spell out honeyed praises, too occupied to indulge on the way scaramouche rolled along your walls and the noises of his balls colliding on your skin over and over.

"fuck— you're gonna make me cum fast," scaramouche gasps, dragging his sensitive cock through you like you're made for him, as if it just fits and he doesn't need to prep you, which he in fact, really enjoyed doing as well.

frankly, nothing tasted as good as your pussy rubbing across his mouth.

one hand leaves your hips before he gives your clit a little attention, pressing through the curtains that protected your sensitive pearl as he rubs your slick over the sensitivity, smirking devilishly when you arch your back off the mattress and begin to shake, your walls spasming while being so perfect when milking his cock, your pussy dripping with slick as he toys with your clit.

you cry out a sound between a broken sob and sharp moan of his name and that's when scaramouche knows you're close too— swift when he drags his hand from your clit to intertwine his digits with your own as he fucked you into the bed, your pussy pulsing around him as your eyes scrunch shut when you reach your high, falling slack against the bed and whining out shortly when he warms you with the weight of his body.

"fuck— shit!," his hips faster, his breath quicker, "you're fuckin mine, mine, mine," scaramouche falls apart,  panting against your ear and groaning lowly, his erection pulsing while constricted by your walls as he holds his cock deeply buried in you before thrusting back and forth once, twice, three more times as he spills his load into your pussy— his warm seed setting your belly on fire by how perfect it felt to be claimed in such lewd, passionate way.

"fuck," he breathes, "gonna stay like that for a bit,"

archons, it's so sticky— borderline filthy and shameless with every intention of it being like that. your tits were still bouncing up and down from the following, last thrusts of him pumping his precious cum into your hole and making sure not a single drop gets lost midway.

after a while of collecting your breathing and turning it evenly again, you giggle out, finding his darkened hair strands as you greet him with a wet, sloppy kiss, "wanna join me for a shower later?" you mumble, eyes half-lidded as he hums softly into your lips, "mhm, or i'll decline so you'll get mad at me, right?"

"i will bite you," you threaten, shaking slightly as he pulls himself out without warning to expose his drenched cock being weaved with your slick, the filthy mixture dripping along your inner thighs,

"please do, "i'm counting on it," scaramouche ends with a wink.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[sixosix]

synopsis in which satoru really needed to start reading the gc more often. solves a lot.

tags slight making out scene… satoru is an asshole but what’s new, satoru is also hopelessly infatuated, all the readers i write are emotionally constipated sorry, getting together(?) fluff bit angsty tho

a/n this is a little stupid and unrealistic but bear with me because this is my first time writing in a looong time to get back in the groove of writing ^__^

Shoko wrinkled her nose as Satoru made the show of tossing a crumpled-up vending machine can into the bin on the other side of the street. It landed perfectly in the middle because why wouldn’t it? Emboldened by the impressed glances of passersby, he reached for Suguru’s pocket, where there was a balled-up paper in his bontan pants. Suguru winced when it was your head instead, where you had started crossing.

Your glare cut a thrill down Satoru’s spine. You huffed and bent down to pick up the trash, your knuckles white, like you were imagining it was Satoru’s head instead. Satoru was just appreciating how gracefully you’d bowed, the curve of your back captivating him for a moment until Suguru elbowed him.

“Stop littering,” Suguru said sternly, but his eyes spelled out that it was not about the littering.

Satoru shrugged. “I wouldn’t have missed if it weren’t for Y/N.” 

Satoru called out after you as you dropped the paper ball into the bin directly. “Oi!” You ignored him and continued walking, a considerable distance lengthening between you and the three. “Ha, you embarrassed?”

“Anyone would be if they were seen with you,” you spat out almost reflexively, then blinked at your own words. Satoru almost swore you wanted to apologize, but you composed yourself by turning your back on him altogether.

Satoru grinned. “It’s okay,” he said. “Shoko and Suguru don’t need to know I had to save your ass from a low-grade curse.”

You didn’t dignify his taunt with a response, but your shoulders tensed for a moment.

“So moody. How does your boyfriend put up with this?” Satoru snickered as he eyed the back of your head. He relished in the way a vein pops on your temple, breathed in the way you looked over your shoulder just to say—

“Shut up, Satoru. I mean it.”

He wasn’t unfamiliar with envious or hateful gazes; it came with his birth, really. Awe and fear and there are impossibles, but not for Gojo Satoru said with contempt—he didn’t care. Yours were different. He took pride in affecting people in ways where they could never ignore him, but the way you looked at him felt thrilling. He wondered if your boyfriend saw how your eyes would set ablaze for Satoru.

But he didn’t actually care, he would say. He never cared for a lot of things. It showed, at times, others would say.

“Whoa, did someone get their heart broken today?” Satoru whistled, his tone lilting upwards in what seemed to be a way to lighten the mood. No moods were lightened.

Your head whipped around to give him a look that had him frozen on the spot. His eyes widened behind his shades. He felt like that paper ball at the moment, about to be squashed flat against your palm. That look felt familiar, but not in the way that he knew he was familiar with because of you. It was familiar because of everyone else.

Suguru shot him a look that said he would’ve shoved him had it not been for his Infinity on. “Satoru.”

You walked on ahead, brushing past them with hiked-up shoulders. You looked like you were about to break at the slightest touch—it looked wrong. You had always looked so strong in Satoru’s eyes. Not stronger than him, of course, but… seeing your lip tremble like that made him itch the wrong way.

Satoru glanced between Suguru and Shoko, lost. “Am I missing something?”

Suguru said, “You didn’t hear?”

“Oh, so you know, but I don’t? What is this? Leave-out-Satoru club? You have a group chat without me?” Satoru did not mean for that to come out that bitter.

Shoko exhaled, smoke faintly billowing from her lips. She regarded Satoru with a look. “Maybe if you actually read our group chat with you, you wouldn’t be so ignorant.”

And so Satoru scrolled through his phone, wounded. Suguru and Shoko whispered among themselves as his eyebrows arched up so high that he looked elated.

“That’s it?” Satoru scoffed. “Trouble in paradise? Y/N almost got hurt by a curse because of some man?”

“Idiot,” Suguru sighed. “You’re also a man.”

Satoru knew what was going on in Shoko’s head with her expression. She was calling him trash. “They’ve been together for years. Before Y/N even met you.”

Satoru bristled. “So?”

“So don’t think of this as some chance,” Suguru said. Since when was he some love expert? “And stop terrorizing. No one brokenhearted would want to see your stupid face.”

He gaped. “So rude!”

And then he backtracked. “And I wasn’t thinking of this as a chance.” He was. “I don’t even like Y/N like that!” He does terribly. “I’m just glad I don’t have to hear from that asshole non-sorcerer again. Have you heard the way he says baby? Even through the phone, it gives me the creeps.”

Suguru hummed thoughtfully. “He was an asshole.”

Shoko laughed. “That asshole got to date Y/N before you, though.”

Satoru decided to spare Shoko, feeling too delighted to let anyone ruin it.

“Did you read all the messages?” Suguru asked.

“Nah.” Satoru stared at the back of your head. “I got the gist of it seeing Suguru’s reply, ‘he was an asshole anyway.’” He flashed his teeth and quickened his pace. “Come on, before Y/N gets flung around by curses again.”

Suguru and Shoko shared a look that he missed completely.

You eyed the plastic bag Satoru was holding out distrustfully.

It was too dark already, but that was no problem for Gojo Satoru. He came here—your room, your door—with a mission in mind. That mission involved ice cream because he saw in movies that people liked to eat ice cream and cry after breakups. You weren’t crying, which relieved him, though he didn’t know why. He wanted to convince himself it was because he didn’t want to deal with tears, but he couldn’t lie to himself well when it came to you.

“Nice try,” you said, pushing it back to his chest. You startled at the cold.

“What— It’s not poison!” Satoru said. He flicked it open and showed you his gift, one you should appreciate for his efforts and thoughtfulness.

“Ice cream?” you said suspiciously. Then it dawned on you. Your lips turned up in a disbelieving smile. He'd take it much better than the look you gave him that day, even when dregs of weariness dulled your eyes. “Were you worried?”

You looked awful, which was probably the norm for someone going through a breakup from a long relationship. Satoru didn’t like your sad face at all. It pissed him off, like some puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Still, to Satoru, he supposed anything was better than not getting to see your face at all.

“Yeah,” he found himself saying before he could think about it.

Your face fell. “Satoru.”

“Just take it, or else I’ll eat it in front of you.”

Your hand gripped the door tighter.

Satoru cleared his throat. “Okay, or you can just shut the door on me and go back to sleep.” And then, silently: “You can just take it, and I’ll leave.”

You stared at him as if expecting him to take it back.

Satoru felt his face warm. “Are you gonna take it or not?”

“It creeps me out when you act nice.”

He glared. “I’m always nice, but I’m not creepy about it.”

Your shoulders relaxed. You took the bag from him with a smile that felt like a shared secret. “Do you wanna come in?”

His first thought was, holy shit, but what came out was, “Sure, I don’t care.”

He had never been in your room before. Shoko was, a lot of times, most of the time. Suguru managed to, here and there, when you needed some help with heavy lifting. You kicked Satoru every time he used to even think about it. Your room was more ordinary than he expected. No posters, flashy souvenirs, or even clothes strewn over your bed. It looked lonely.

There was a box in the corner beside your closet that looked entirely out of place. Satoru must have been staring at it for a moment too long as you said, “Those are my ex’s clothes. I stole many of it, but I don’t want to wear them anymore.”

Satoru’s curious gaze turned into distaste. “Want me to get rid of it?”

“What?” You laughed. “I’ll just give it back.”

Satoru bounded over to the box and crouched, peeling the cover open. “Why not? There’s a dumpster nearby.”

“Well, they were nice. Not my ex, I mean the clothes. Felt expensive—I’d rather he take it back.” Always the goody two shoes.

“Hmmm…” Satoru lifted his head to stare at you. “Did you like wearing them? You can borrow mine. Much better than these cheap knockoffs.”

Your eyes flashed with interest, and Satoru knew he had said the right words. His clothes were no joke.

You blinked at him, a deer in headlights holding a tub of ice cream. “Are— Are you sure? It’s not like I actually need them—”

Satoru wanted nothing more than to see you drowning in his clothes. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I don’t care.”

He shrugged off his jacket and offered it to you. He felt a gust of cold, which should’ve been wrong to him, but he didn’t pay it any mind when you took it from him and stared at it. Your gaze shifted hesitantly between him and the red fabric. Your bottom lip started trembling before you bit it between your teeth, something Satoru wouldn’t have caught if he wasn’t staring. You whirled around and shoved the tub of ice cream in your mini fridge. What a shame. He was really planning for you to share it with him.

Satoru stood up, kicking at the box. He asked, “What were you doing before I left? Boring stuff? Were you watching sad movies without ice cream? It’s a good thing I came over.”

“You didn’t have to, I’m fine,” you said. You slipped into his jacket, the sight arresting him for a moment.

Satoru frowned. Something was definitely wrong. Maybe you were feeling tired? You must have been—emotions tend to wear out a person faster than any physical means. “Hey, lie down on the bed. You look like you’re about to crash.”

“I’m not,” you muttered but followed anyway because you must have felt it, too. “I’m not.”

You winced as your head collided with your pillow. It was unusual for you to succumb to rest while Satoru lingered in the same space.

“Sorry,” Satoru choked out, suddenly feeling guilty by the strong urge to embrace you. He was already crossing far too many lines today. He didn’t want to taint your memory of heartbreak from your ex with him.

You turned to face him, your hair splayed all over the pillow. “What?”

“For yesterday. I didn’t know. This, I mean.”

“You read the messages?”

He nodded. “I did.”

“That’s it? You’re not—” You yawned, blinking. Satoru was performing the highest level of restraint at the moment. “I mean, you’re not, like…”

The air was charged with something dangerous. Satoru looked away, thinking. He wanted to ask, did you expect me to care that much? But he knew the answer to that—he does.

“Satoru,” you said lowly. He shivered at the quiet of the night and how he can almost feel your voice. “You shouldn’t be so nice to someone heartbroken. Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

Satoru sat on the edge of your bed, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

You looked up at him. Satoru felt want in his belly. It was dangerous, he realized, for him to be alone with you like this. It was wrong—but he never went doing everything right anyway, if it meant he could watch as your eyes flutter, as you longed for something he could never have from you once the wounds on you have healed.

“Doesn’t it?” you said. “You’re confusing me, too.”

Satoru realized his Infinity had been off already, though he didn’t know when. Was it when he sat on the bed to feel the softness of your sheets? Or was it already back then, the moment you opened the door, he was already longing for you to touch him?

“You’re so cruel, Satoru,” you murmured. “I hate you.”

Weakly, Satoru said, “I know. Get some sleep. I’ll leave soon.”

“Don’t leave.”

Satoru screwed his eyes shut, frustrated.

“Satoru.” He could listen to you say his name forever. You sighed his name in a way that felt like what aches in his heart whenever you even look at him.  “You didn’t read the messages, did you?”

“Did I miss something?”

“If you want to kiss me so bad, read it.”

His eyes shot open wide, a bit terrified. “What?” he said, dumbstruck. “Y/N— What?”

Clumsily, with no grace whatsoever, he fumbled with his phone, your words racing in his head. If you want to kiss me, read it. He bluescreened. If you want to kiss me—

you satoru doesnt read the messages here, right?

you i hate him if i never met him maybe i wouldnt have figured that i was not content with the love i had

you how do i even deal with this? i got dumped by my bf and he tells me if i love satoru so much why not just date him instead

you i love him can someone please comfort me

shoko oh no

shoko condolences for liking the most insufferable man on planet earth

suguru im sorry he’s an asshole you deserve better y/n

shoko the trashiest asshole are you sure about this?

you more than anything, unfortunately

Wait.

The asshole they were referring to was Satoru?

Wait.

Satoru jolts up from where he had been hunched over his phone, gaping at you. “Y/N,” he whispered reverently. “Y/N!”

You placed a hand on his chest as he moved towards you, preventing him from crashing into your space. He faltered. “Wait,” you laughed softly, languidly, beautifully, “not now. I’m sleepy.”

“No, fuck that,” he said, helpless. “Y/N!”

“It’s your fault for not reading our group chat.”

‘Kay, well. Satoru’s eyes narrowed like a cat prepared to pounce. “You can’t just make me read that and keep me from you like this. Why were you so mad at me yesterday?”

“Because I love you, and now my life is over,” you said, smiling.

“Say that again,” he demanded. 

“My life is over?”

Satoru was seconds away from crying. “Y/N, please,” he said, “say you love me again. Say it now.”

He held the hand on his chest and kissed it. Kissed it again, the back of your palm, your fingertips, repeating the same three words.

“I love you?” you said.

“Well, don’t sound so unsure about it.”

You laughed. “Do you even like me back?”

Satoru stared from the rim of his glasses. Instead of replying, he tugged you closer with your arm and kissed your jaw. He hoped you would get it—that you would understand. He loved you first.

“More than anything,” he echoed. He looked into your eyes, your lips, torn. “Please, let me kiss you. You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, I get a please now?”

Satoru’s eyes sharply dart down to your lips. Your grin faltered at the intensity of his stare. You swallowed, and he tracked every movement.

“You look a bit manic right now,” you said nervously.

“I’ll show you manic.”

You smiled, bumping your ankle against his back. When he glanced at it, you inched closer. His heart leaped to his throat, threatening to come out and get you.

“Are you seriously going to make a move on me now? My heart is broken, Satoru.”

“Is it really?” He grinned. “Or is it just split with me?”

“Okay, smartass,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just kiss me already.”

Satoru cut the distance between the two of you. He crashed clumsily, making both of you wince, but he tilted his head and suddenly— much better. He held you closer, hoping he could wipe away any other men from your life with all he could offer—him, needy, longing, crazed.

“Satoru—” you tried, but it was swallowed by his mouth, wishing you could breathe his name from your lips to his. This was almost as good as hearing you say you love him anyway.