#I feel like I had more to say but my mind trailed off

[gojoidyll]

+18, smut, mdni, f!reader, etc.

pt 1

You weren’t used to the attention that John was giving you. Your past partners never caring or giving a damn. So to feel just how much careful attention he is giving your weeping pussy is making your core throb and ache. And when he started to pull his fingers out, it made you whine embarrassingly loud.

The sound made him chuckle as he got up and pulled you along.

“Where- where are we going?”

“To my bed.”

That was another thing that made you almost lose your footing. You were never important enough for a bed. The hard floor or the lumpy, uncomfortable couch was all your dates ever brought you to. In your mind, however, you wouldn’t have minded John’s couch as it was more comfortable than the others you had the displeasure of sitting on.

“Are you sure? What about the mess?”

You couldn’t hide the way your voice wobbled as he ushered you into his room, his foot kicking the door closed as his hands gently worked on your pants, helping you shrug them off along with your panties.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, amusement clear in his features. And when you felt your clothing start to pool at your feet, you found that you were only dressed in your shirt and bra. The cool air made your thighs clench together.

“If I’m going to fuck ya, sweet girl, then it’s going to be in my bed. But before that…,” his voice trailed off as he helped you out of your shirt and unclipped your bra, the articles of clothing joining your jeans and panties, “I said I was going to have you sit on my face next.”

Without getting undressed himself, he pulled you along towards his bed. His hand gently tugging you forward when he sat down on the edge of, you now wedged between his thighs as he rested his hands on your hips, his fingers tracing lazy circles as he kissed your stomach. The feeling of him peppering you with kisses made you squirm.

“Well?”

“H- huh?”

He chuckled at your cluelessness, but didn’t dare make fun of you for it, “though I said where I wanted you to sit, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He leaned back, pushed himself to where he was laying face down whilst pulling you with. Your chest pressed hard against his as he let one of his hands trail and gently squeeze at the fat of your ass.

A part of you always wanted to try, but with your past partners hating the idea of giving you oral while also giving you a clear display of disgust, you sort of dropped the idea entirely.

But John is offering, isn’t he?

He isn’t the type of man to do something he doesn’t want to after all.

“Only if… you really want to,” you manage to say.

“That’s what I am asking you. Do you want to?”

You found yourself gripping at the front of his shirt, the way his fingers worked you open was still imprinted in your cunt, you really want to feel his tongue too.

“Yes, please.”

The moment the words left your mouth, he had you sit up so you were straddling his waist. You tried not to whine out too much when your wet cunt pressed down against his hardening bulge, and he didn’t give you enough time to feel him as he already got a strong hold of your hips again and gently dragging you up.

“You’re so nervous.”

You didn’t know where to put your hands as your bare pussy hovered just over his mouth. None of your previous partners ever really looked to hard at your slick, but John made a point to just analyze all of you.

“I- I can’t help it, I never did something like this before.”

He chuckled softly, his breath gently hitting your cunt making you squirm in his hold, “then I best ruin you for everyone else, huh?”

Not giving you any time to give back a retort, he planted you down, his grip strong as he easily held you in place as his tongue licked a long stripe between your folds. The sudden contact made you squeal as started to lap at you, his tongue not missing a single inch even as he toys with your fluttering hole. The tip of his tongue gently prodding before delving in.

The heat and feeling of his tongue was way different, and even better as he let one of his hands let go of your waist to trail downwards.

Your moans and gasps filled up the quiet bedroom accompanied by the wet sounds your pussy made against his tongue and fingers.

And you think between each flick of his tongue and pump of his fingers that he was right.

He was ruining you for everyone else… that is, if you even want anyone else after this.

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 5

Check out part 1 here.

Every time John brought in a shirt, pair of pants, or suit coat to get fixed it got harder and harder to stop yourself from touching him. Touching him casually, obviously. You weren’t going to up and grope the man. But fuck you bet it would be as amazing as your dreams alluded it might be. He would probably, rightfully, hit you if you did. John seemed bashful around you and his body.

Watching him pull off a sweater in the colder weather became a fascinating trial of self-restraint. The man had a happy trail and a small bump of flesh pushing above the waist of his pants. You wanted to lick that happy trail until he gripped you by the hair and bite his stomach, just gnaw on it. Hair covered him, not an excessive amount but a light dusting that you want to pet.

The sweater he handed you had a hole in the cuff. After he graced you with a smile, that you returned by rote, he turned to the back room. Watching him slip beyond the door every time he came to visit made you want to follow him. Dammit, your new vibrator couldn’t arrive fast enough.

You lived life fine without sex or orgasms until one John Price looked so delectable you wanted nothing more than to sink your teeth into him and hold on like a bulldog. The vibrator would hopefully take the edge off the yearning and sand the edge of your annoyance with dealing with your mother.

She had been hounding you since you had left her house ‘in a huff’ about Christmas. You had managed to dodge her calls, replying via text that you were busy with work and couldn’t talk. Mid-November the damn nearly broke. She sent your father to the shop.

Looking up as the door bell dinged you smiled when you saw your father.

“Hi, Pops! Surprise to see you here.”

Finishing your current project to the point of being able to step away you joined him in front of the counter. After a quick hug, you gestured for him to sit down.

“What brings you by?” You look him over. He sits tall even with age dragging at his bones and color leeching from his hair.

“Your mother sent me,” he says in his quiet, firm voice.

That is all it took. Leaning back in the chair you cross your arms and your legs. The sour look on your communicates your displeasure. Feeling fifteen again sat uncomfortably in your grown body.

“I don’t have anything to say to my mother right now.”

Pops gave you a slow blink that told you so much. He didn’t want to be here, but for the sake of his marriage, he would. His wife bullied and nagged at him until he came to play peacemaker.

“She is upset that you are not talking to her, says you are avoiding calls about Christmas.”

“I am avoiding calls about Christmas. I already called Nana and I will be spending Christmas with her.”

Both Pops’ brows lifted, he spoke to his mother once a month when your mother went to visit her mother.

“If you don’t mind I’ll send her gift up with you then if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind that at all.”

“Why the distance with your mother?”

“She doesn’t listen to me, or like me. She is always siding with my brother in every disagreement and I’m done. I hate the way she treats me and unless she is willing to go therapy I don’t want to talk to her.” The words coated your mouth like vomit.

You had never said these things out loud outside of therapy. In therapy, you ranted that your mother hated you and regretted having you but that wasn’t something you were willing to dump on your father.

“She is upset about the silence,” Pops hedges.

“She makes me upset every time I see her so this feels fair.”

The look your father sends you sends you back to the age of seven as you hold out the broken porcelain doll you had been told repeatedly to not touch. Before either of you can pick the tug-of-war conversation back up the door bell dings. Looking up you can feel the weight of the chat with your father fall away.

John stands in the doorway, a wooden box tucked under one arm. He stomps his feet on the mat and lets the door fall shut behind him. Eager to escape the chat with your Pops you stand.

“John! I wasn’t expecting you today.” He had been yesterday and tended to keep anywhere from four days to three weeks between visits. If he would be gone longer he made sure to mention.

Smiling at nodding once at your father he set his box on the counter. Stepping around to your side of the space you examine the piece with your eyes like you do with clothing.

“I wanted to confirm you liked the design before I started to stain and line it.”

John turned the jewelry box around, watching your face as you examined each corner and the neat construction of it.

You glance up at him, the same look in your eye that you get before you start touching the clothing while he is in it.

“Can I touch?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

Damn if only he could get you to say that about him instead of objects. Any part of him. Really, even his pinky.

The man you had been having an intense chat with stood, drawing John’s attention away from you. The older man stepped around the counter, placing a hand on your back and a kiss to your hair. John’s stomach met the top of his boots.

“Goodbye sweetheart, I will call you later this week to finish this chat.”

“There isn’t anything else I have to say on the matter Pops. She can go to therapy or she can leave me alone.” You don’t look up from slowly rotating the piece in front of you.

“She’s still your mother.”

“And I’m still her daughter, not that that has ever gotten me a modicum of love from her.”

He hums in response, giving John a nod as he heads past him into the cold.

As the ding rings out in time with the blast of cold air you slump forward onto folded arms on the counter.

“John, would you lock the door please?”

Without question, he does as requested. Stepping back to the counter he looks you over.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He probes gently.

“No,” you bite the word out at the countertop.

“Can I show you more about your gift then?”

John knew how to push and when to pull away from the pain and try again later.

“There’s more?” Your head pops up, eyes filled with tears.

Pulling out each drawer he showed you the differences. Two drawers had inserts to increase the storage space. Three were empty and one had been left half filled with wood. Tipping that drawer to John you lifted a brow.

“I know you mentioned you don’t wear rings often but it felt odd to not give you any storage space for them. My mum had heirloom rings she held onto and hated having no good storage for them,” he explained.

Setting the drawer down gently you cover your mouth with one hand and hug yourself tight with the other. John is confused until you let out a small sob, and then he is terrified. What the fuck did he do?

“Sorry, ignore me,” you sob out.

Fuck off, that had no chance of happening. Stepping around the counter John doesn’t wait to ask you for permission, pulling you into his arms.

You cry until you can pull the reigns back on the overly large emotions and shove them back in the box meant for therapy. Leaning back you move away from John. His hands drop slowly, keeping contact with you until they hang at his sides.

“Better?”

You sniff as you tip your head back and forth.

“Meh?”

Looking away from his probing blue eyes you pull a tissue from your shelf. Carefully blowing your nose, because you’ve already cried on the man no need to make it worse by being loud now, you keep your eyes down.

“Why don’t you tell me about it as you finish looking it over? I have more to show you,” John picks up a drawer, rotating it between his hands.

Filling your lungs as deep as you can you try and think of a way out of this. Seeing none within easy reach you decide to get to know him better.

“How about a truth for a truth?”

He glances at you from below his beanie.

“I won’t be sharing any state secrets no matter how pretty you ask.”

His deadpan delivery shocks a laugh out of you.

“What would I do with state secrets other than give myself an ulcer?”

John has a big laugh. You love it instantly.

“Fair point that.”

You trade truths as he shows you how to access the portion of the box that holds necklaces. The top of the box shifts forward. The back wall can be lifted out if a necklace falls from the hooks he will install. You tell John of your rocky relationship with your mother, and he tells you of the distant but decent relationship he has with his siblings.

“You’ve really thought of everything haven’t you?” You start to slide the drawers back into place.

“I have a lot of time on my hands on missions,” he holds out another drawer.

“Can you tell me what this is?” You point at the joint of the drawer you had taken from his hand.

“The joint?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like most furniture I see nowadays. I’ve seen it once on my great grandmother’s dresser drawers,” you look to him.

Seeing the words form in his mind is fascinating.

“‘S called dovetailing. Bit more work but holds joints better than glue alone like most pieces are made with anymore.”

Brushing a finger over the joint you are amazed by the smoothness and dare you say softness of the wood.

“This is lovely John. Much better than I expected. You will tell me how much I owe you when this is all done?”

Watching his eyes crinkle is a treat, even if his expression says he thinks you’re being silly.

“Don’t owe me a thing. Let me use your shop for naps for the low price of a fix to the clothes I bring in? This is the least I can do. You don’t even badger me for state secrets,” he winked at you.

Your cheeks have to be blushing, thankfully you can’t feel the heat radiating off them. Focusing on putting everything away you start speaking again.

“I will be gone the week of Christmas. I am going to be up north with my Nana. Did you possibly want my number so we can coordinate a gift exchange?”

“Don’t need to get me a gift,” John eyes you with suspicion.

“And you don’t need to give me this well-crafted box for free but we find ourselves at an impasse.” You lift a brow at him, liking the drop in your stomach as he narrows his eyes at you. “Do you want my number?”

“Yes, give me your phone and I will text myself.” He shifts from foot to foot, eyes tracing your features.

You pass your phone, number pad ready. After he punches his number in he calls himself instead, the phone carrier-assigned tone ringing out from his pocket.

Taking your phone back you smile at the connection to him.

“There, now you can just text me if you need a nap instead of stealing your men’s clothes.” Glancing up at him you continue, “At this point, I’m almost wondering if you are causing more tears just to come see me.”

John felt the alarm bells go off in his brain. You were onto him somehow. Play it cool John, you can bluff a terrorist cell you can do it to one woman.

“And if I am?”

You have the cutest nose scrunch as if you don’t believe him.

“I don’t think you are but just in case you better knock it off before they start hiding their clothes from you.”

John laughs again, keenly aware that he hasn’t laughed this much since Roach got so tipsy trying to out-drink Gaz that he couldn’t stand right. Gaz had also promptly fallen over when trying to prove he wasn’t that drunk.

“I’ll text you. This,” he placed his hand on the box, “Will be done after Christmas. Want to get together for New Year maybe?”

Smiling at him you folded your arms and tugged the inside of your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Stay safe out there John.”

“Always do.” He left with a wave and a smile, unlocking the door on his way out.

Masterlist

[stevesgother]

The 4th - S.H

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI NSFW, cursing, drinking, characters are all of age, takes place after the events of ST3, slight exhibitionism only bc they’re technically outside, it’s that slightly awkward but endearing sex you have when you fuck someone you like for the first time. It's realistic. Sue me.

AN: first time writing smut, i'm so nervous. fast times au?? If you squint?? the last half isn't proofread bc i simply cannot bring myself to read my own smut

‘American Woman’ by The Guess Who blares loudly from a twin pair of Hitachi speakers stationed on Steve Harrington’s back deck. On the hottest day of the year, The Party had decided to congregate at the only non-public pool they had unlimited access to.

To his relief, Steve had been assigned to grill duty again. The cherry red bikini you had sauntered through his sliding glass door wearing was starting to seriously inconvenience him. He had his Ray Bans on, albeit low on the bridge of his nose, to disguise where his gaze had been lingering all afternoon; the large propane grill hiding his lower half.

Lounging poolside on your towel, you hear before you feel a large ‘SPLASH’, and suddenly you’re soaked head to toe in overly chlorinated pool water.

“Ugh! Henderson!” you scold as you stand to replace your now drenched towel. The cheeky boy looks up at you from where he floats in the pool and mouths a half-hearted ‘Sorry’. 

“Steve! Would you happen to have an extra towel?” you shout to him as you hold up your ruined one, shooting him a deadpan expression. “Yeah, ‘course,” he sets down the grill tongs and awkwardly shuffles his way inside, keeping his back to you. Weird, you think.

Steve caught one look at you, hair wet and dripping, water beading down your neck and disappearing among the curve of your breasts; nipples taught from the sudden shock of cold water and visible through the fabric of your swimsuit, and he was grateful for the reprieve inside would offer him.

After close to 15 minutes of no Steve and more importantly, no towel, you decide to venture into the spacious house yourself. “Steve! – Oh!-” you startle as you run chest to chest into him, both turning a corner. “You scared me,” you chuckle awkwardly with a hand to your racing heart, “I was just wondering where you went,” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Yeah no, sorry, I just uh- got distracted,” he says, avoiding contact and handing you the fresh linen. You glance down, and notice the slight tent in his maybe too-tight swim trunks. You feel the heat of a rosy blush crawl up your cheeks, and a sudden flip of your stomach. Were you really the reason why he was acting so strange? That felt incredibly presumptuous of you.

“Well um…” you trail off, trying to keep your cool, “thanks. For the towel, I mean.” Steve had never made you feel so awkward and uncertain before. Something about the newly exposed skin and the salty smell of sweat mixed musk that radiates off of him from this proximity making your mind short circuit.

 –

When the cookout had dwindled down to just the adults and the sun dipped just below the trees, a joint had started to be passed around your small circle. “Well, we should probably head home,” Nancy announces in her usual demure tone, grabbing Jonathan’s hand helping him to stand. A chorus of goodbyes echo throughout the group, eventually leaving just you, Steve, Robin and Eddie.

An exaggerated yawn escapes Robin as she declares she’s exhausted and needs Eddie to drive her home in his rinky dink van.

“C’mon man! I just rolled this joi-”

Robin cuts him off with a harsh clear of her throat and an even harsher jab to his ribs.

“I. Really think. We. Should. Go.” She punctuates each word with a forced smile. Why was everyone acting so fucking odd today? You try to send her a panicked glance, fearing the potential awkwardness of being left here alone with Steve.

Being best friends with both of you, she was well aware of the searing crushes the two of you had on each other. This barbeque was her opportunity to light a fire under your asses to do something about it.

“That’s okay, Rob. Go home if you’re tired.” Always the gentleman. Right now you could kick him for it. If Robin notices your glaring, she doesn’t acknowledge it as she rises to her feet and heads toward the gate leading to the driveway.

“Bye losers!” She waggles her fingers at you as they make their exit, sending you a subtle wink that sets your cheeks ablaze. You now know without a doubt that this was intentional.

A hand on your knee as he says, “I can walk you home if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. We can finish the joint at least,” you smile timidly at him. Free weed wasn’t easy to come by these days, what was the harm in staying just a little longer?

–

2 hours later, you’re lying shoulder to shoulder on the rough concrete surrounding the Harrington’s pool. The joint had been snuffed out on the ground between you an hour ago, but with your thoughts dulled like this it was becoming increasingly easy to bask in the space you two had created for each other. The desire to turn heel and run with your other friends had long fizzled out.

“Hey, what was up with you today?” you ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “You just seemed really off,”

He looks suddenly nervous, “Oh I uh– I don’t know. Julys’ always a weird month for me, I guess,” he lies, carding a hand through his hair.

Taking the hand that’s not in his hair in your own, you ask, “Are you doing okay?” When he turns his head to meet you, your sincerity makes him blush - neck to ears. Your faces are closer than he thought they would be. He can count every eyelash from this proximity.

“Yeah– you know what,” He clears his throat, “I’m actually really warm,” he sits up clumsily as he pulls his shirt over his head by the collar, ruffling his hair and exposing the constellation of freckles and moles he has spattering the skin on his toned back.

“Okay–” You go to stand with him but he’s already dove into the pool. When he breaches the surface, he shakes his hair out like a dog and grins at you. You can’t help your eyes wandering to the dark patch of hair covering his chest. You’re starting to feel that warmth he had been complaining of.

“You gonna come in? Or just stand there and gawk?” He laughs as he floats over to you.

So you peel your shirt off and watch him stare intently as you unbutton your shorts, letting them drop to your feet. A less than elegant swan dive and you’re disappearing under the artificially blue water. The sudden coolness of it shocks you, sobering you up a bit.

You’re much more graceful than the boy when it’s your turn to come up for air, gently pushing back the hair that sticks to your face. He swims over to you unsuspectingly, then in the next breath and with a mischievous grin he lifts your body over his shoulder and essentially bodyslams you back under the surface.

More than the gesture itself, what shocks you the most is the warm expanse of his broad shoulders caressing you. You both emerge laughing, “Asshole!” you swat at his chest playfully.

When the laughter dies and fizzles out into an anxious energy, the air is filled with a sort of anticipation. The two of you are bobbing in the pool, faces no more than an inch apart.

“You have got to stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, breathlessly.

Just then he surges forward and presses his lips firmly to yours. The kiss is close-mouthed and chaste at first, giving you a chance to pull away. When you don’t take the opportunity, he deepens it. Your wet hands move to hold his face, breaching the water with a small splashing sound and his strong arms hug you at the waist, bringing you impossible closer. Pressed up against him like this you can feel all of him. The scratch of curls on his chest, the bulge of his biceps around your middle, the hard length of him pressed against your thigh.

Gasping into the kiss, you give him the opening he needs to lick hotly into your mouth, eliciting a breathy moan from your chest that sends Steve reeling. He starts to slowly kick his legs, swimming to push your back up against a vinyl clad wall.

Your lips move to lick the vein that runs down his neck, then up to a spot just below his ear. He groans when you take his earlobe gently into your mouth. Grasping your cheek in his hand, he forces your face out of the refuge his neck had provided from his intense gaze.

“Can I touch you?” He shudders when he speaks, having dreamt about this exact moment for years. Your response is an enthusiastic nod and another searing kiss to his lips - plush and pink and made for your own.

Steve’s knee moves to rest bookended between your thighs, keeping you open for him. In the water, he can’t feel how pathetically wet you are beneath your bright red bikini bottoms. You’re thankful for that, but even so, the whine that you release when his swift fingers push aside the fabric and start slowly massaging your clit is enough to give you away.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens, leaving small crescent shapes in his perfect skin. “Oh!-- God, keep doing that,” you pant.

“You like that, baby?” Steve tries to sound suave. Mr. Confident. King Steve. Honestly, he’s terrified. He has half a mind to stop and ask you to pinch him, not entirely convinced this is even real. But the sweet, sweet sounds you’re making are enough to persuade him otherwise.

“Yes! Ah– please, don’t stop,” you beg, even though you don’t have to. Steve’s positive he would do just about anything you asked of him right now. You have the sudden urge to return the favor, reaching down between your two bodies and palming him through his swim trunks.

“Oh -- my God, don’t,” he warns, the sheepish smile on his face signals to you that he’s not actually uncomfortable, “I’ll come in my pants like a damn teenager,” he gives an embarrassed chuckle.

Growing desperate for more, you say, “I want you to fuck me.” with an impossible finality. It makes Steve’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Wh-what?” He needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

“Steve. I need you to fuck me. Now.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you begin to press open-mouth kisses to his neck again.

“Oh my God,” The boy sounds absolutely wrecked already, barely able to contain himself. His hands fumble blindly for the ties on your bikini bottoms and he pulls when he finds them. Unwrapping you like his very own Christmas present.

You pull his trunks down and over his hips, just enough to fish his red and swollen cock out, careful to not let them fall to the bottom of the pool lest someone have to dive and retrieve them. You line him up hurriedly with your entrance, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Are you sure about this?” His brows furrow in that way they always do, when he's unsure. He has a crinkle above his nose.

“Yes” you half moan before getting a look at his face, “Wait, are you?”

“Yes! Yes– of course. I just– want you to be sure,” He kisses you softly after he asks

It’s so tender, you feel so safe with him like this. You fear you might be falling in love.

“I promise, I’m su–Oh!” he slides into you without warning, nearly knocking the breath out of you. He lets out a guttural groan into the space where your shoulder meets your neck as he starts to keep a steady rhythm.

“God, you feel so good,” he pants into your open mouth, “i’ve wanted this for so long,”

His words have you keening. He wraps his broad arms fully around you now, hugging you close as he pistons his hips into you. Repeatedly hitting that spot inside your walls where you need him the most.

“Oh, Steve!” you moan loudly, no longer concerned about the neighbors hearing you. The pool water begins to form waves from Steve’s thrusting and splash up onto the concrete beside your head.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” you can feel his hips stuttering slightly.

“Steve!” He whines directly into your ear when you say it, you never would’ve thought he’d be so vocal.

“Touch yourself baby, I’m close,”

You do as you’re asked and start to keep a frenzied pace on your sensitive bud. Having both kinds of stimulation, mixed with Steve’s sweet praise, is sending you closer and closer to your edge.

As you reach your high, Steve can feel your warm pussy clench around him, making him hurtle towards his orgasm with you.

With a strangled cry, “fuck- I'm cumming,” You finish together as hips slow and he rides out his orgasm with you. His body curls in on itself and he trembles slightly. You run a warm, soft hand through his hair and down his back, soothing him through the intensity of it.

“Shit- my parents are going to kill me,” he laughs and kisses you again.

Maybe you did like swimming. Just a little bit.

tags: @daisy-munson, @megxplryxb

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎, 𝐈’𝐌 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𖥔

summary ; daryl relives the tough choices that were made when he decided to leave the commonwealth.

notes ; established relationship, takes place both in france and at the commonwealth. just a whole lotta angst honestly. 4k words - this is the longest fic i’ve written in literally forever so enjoy ᡣ𐭩

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

"have you ever been in love?" sylvie’s question takes daryl by surprise, his attention momentarily pulled away from the road ahead of them as he turns to look at her in the passenger seat. her french accent is thick, though her words and facial expression are soft - like her.

there’s a noticeable shift in his demeanour, his heart panging in his chest as his thoughts drift toward you back home, back at the commonwealth, where an ocean now stood between you and him. there’s a sad look in his eyes, a mixture of pain and guilt and it’s clear that something deeply rooted within him had happened between the two of you.

“why do you look so sad?” sylvie observes him gently. she can sense the weight of his thoughts, the memories he’s carrying. she wants to press him on it, to further dissect the man that had fallen into their lives, but decides to wait for him to speak instead.

daryl doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixated on the open stretch of road ahead as his hands tightly grip the wheel. sylvie’s question was simple, straightforward, but for him, it was anything but. the weight of his thoughts bear down on his chest, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions he had spent months trying to bury deep down.

“s’complicated.” his voice is low and gravelly when he does finally answer, though laced with hurt as he clenches his jaw tightly.

“complicated?” sylvie repeats, her voice gentle, yet betraying her curiosity. she’s not pushing, she just wants to understand - understand why that was the word he had chosen to describe whatever it was that was clearly plaguing him.

“mhm…” he grumbles, a slight nod of his head as he refocuses on the road once more.

sylvie senses the deep hurt and longing that lies beneath his stoic exterior, “because you… still love them?”

“... sometimes love ain’t enough.” his voice is harsher than he intends, but he leaves it all the same. he could still hear whispers of your laughter ringing in his ears, and how sweet you sounded when saying his name. if he could turn back time and stop himself from ever leaving the commonwealth - from ever leaving you - he would.

his mind flashes back to the last night he had spent with you, the feeling of you in his arms, soft and close. how you looked at him with those warm eyes full of adoration, full of care, the way no one else had ever looked at him before and he wished he could have held onto that moment a little bit longer, a little bit tighter.

you’re sitting on the floor of your room, laughing, your legs stretched out alongside daryl’s as you both lean against your bed. the night had settled over the commonwealth and though exhaustion tugged at both of your minds, you didn’t want to retire for the night just yet, not when you knew it was your last night together.

“i’m still pissed at you,” you say, though there’s no real anger in your tone, just lighthearted playfulness as your eyes gleam in the soft light of the room. you had a habit of looking at him as if he were the only person in the world - which to you, he was.

he nods, huffing out a quiet laugh, “i know. i know ya are.”

his eyes fall to your body, admiring softly, the way your shirt hangs a little off your left shoulder, showing a hint of your collarbone, and his fingers slowly reach to trail down the exposed skin. you notice the way his eyes roam your body, and for a moment, the mood of playful banter shifts into something warmer, something heavier. the air feels a little more charged between you both, the feeling of wanting, not knowing when you’ll get the chance to hold and touch one another like this again.

daryl tries to ignore the way his stomach twists at the memory, the way his mind drifts back to the last time he had touched you. he knows he shouldn’t but the memories are too vivid, he can practically hear your soft gasps in his ear, hear the way you say his name, all breathy and full of love. he can’t help but let himself get carried away in the distant memories of you and the love you shared together.

you bite your lower lip a little, drawing his eyes towards your mouth, and he feels a pang in his chest at the action. you see the way his jaw tenses, how he looks at you with his steely blue eyes, and know he’s fighting against his thoughts, trying to suppress the desire that was clearly building inside of him.

you feel that familiar twist of desire in your own stomach, that familiar need for him building with every passing second. you shift towards him slightly, your leg brushing against his, “...what am i going to do without you?”

he’s struggling, holding back, but he can’t resist the way you move towards him, the way your thigh brushes against his. he brings a calloused hand up to cup your face, thumb tracing over the skin of your cheek. his eyes flicker to your lips again, his heart beating faster, the pull towards you becoming stronger. the desire to hold you, to keep you close, to never let you go, is overwhelming.

he swallows thickly, “yer gonna be fine. always are.”

there’s a pause as you shake your head, taking in a deep breath as tears dare to prick at your eyes, “not this time.”

the feeling of helplessness washes over him as he sees the emotions play across your face. his hand moved to your jaw, cupping it gently before tipping it slightly so you’re looking directly at him. your eyes are watery, pained, and it kills him to see it, to know he’s the cause of it. his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a lone tear that had slipped down it.

“don’t cry,” he tries to reassure you, voice gruff and low, but somewhat softer for him.

“how can i not when you’re leaving me…” you exhale, eyes almost fully glazed over as your mind spirals with the dread of what comes in the morning.

he doesn’t know how to make you feel better, how to soothe away that fear that’s plaguing you. daryl has always had a tendency for keeping people at arms-length, to not let them get too close in case they leave, in case they get hurt. but with you it’s always been different. you’re different. you’ve seen deeper into him than anyone else ever has and despite that, you stayed.

you chose him.

your eyes flitter across his features, as though to be committing every small detail to memory. every crease, every freckle or mole, even the grey hairs that were poking through the scruff on his chin, you wanted to remember it all as though it was the last time you’d ever see him.

he can tell you’re scared, unsure, trying to memorise him, like you believe that this might be the last time you see him. he can feel the shakiness of your body, the warm tears that fall from your eyes, your soft forehead pressed against his. there was nothing more that he wanted than to be able to tell you where he was going and how long he was going to be gone, but most importantly that he would be back.

you move your hands up to rest around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible, your lips only grazing his before you eventually close the space between you. it’s soft and gentle, the way your lips move together, your tongues lightly dancing, but the need for one another quickly takes over. transpiring into a longing of want and need to be even closer. his hands grip your hips, holding onto you tightly like he’d never let you go.

“i love you,” you breathe the words as you try to regain your breath but all daryl can see is the mixture of love and sadness in your eyes.

it wasn’t the first time you had said it to him, or the second or third, you made sure to say it to him as much as he would allow you to, but no matter what, it always felt like the first time. he buried his head in the crook of your neck, lips grazing over the sensitive skin there as he breathes you in. he can feel the way your body trembles, the way you cling to him, afraid to let him go.

“i love you too,” he mumbles against your skin, the words barely audible, like a secret you both already knew but didn’t want to admit aloud.

“who was it not enough for — you or them?” sylvie’s question rips him from his thoughts, hitting him deep in the chest once again.

daryl exhales heavily, his fingers tensing around the steering wheel once more. “i don’t… me,” he answers honestly, his voice almost a whisper. the words hang in the air, heavy and loaded with the weight of his decision.

sylvie sees the turmoil and decides to change the topic slightly, deciding to approach the matter from a different angle, “will you tell me about them?” her voice is low and soothing, drawing him slowly out of his dark thoughts.

he wants to scream ‘no’, to shut it down immediately, knowing that the act of talking about you, even though it would be painful, felt like the only way to keep you close. he wasn’t one for sharing, for letting others inside his mind, but the idea of telling someone about you, not knowing if he’d get another opportunity to do so… it hurt more than the idea of reliving the memories he had shared with you and the impact you had made in his life.

he’s quiet for a moment, swallowing the growing lump in his throat before he opens his mouth, “she was… she was beautiful. caring. strong. stubborn, real stubborn.”

he lets out a soft chuckle at the thought of the numerous times you’d made his life a living hell over the years, yet he’d secretly loved the way you’d never take his bullshit and would always put him in his place. sylvie can’t help but admire the way he lights up as he speaks about you, the tension in his shoulders and jaw easing at her gentle prodding.

“she had this… way about her, ya know?” his voice is still gruff as he speaks, yet there’s a softness to his tone now, an undeniable fondness. “she could hit a target in the bullseye without battin’ an eye but then trip up on her own feet a few seconds later.” he continues, a hint of awe in his voice now as he describes you, like he’s talking about some mythical being. he finds himself once again getting lost in his thought of you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a sad smile.

“she knew how to make me feel…safe. usually it was my job to make others feel that way, to be the protector, but not her, she always wanted to take care of me. like she’s got this hold on me that i can’t shake, and i don’t… i don’t know if i ever will…”

“you still love her… that’s why.” sylvie points out after seeing the way he had spoken about you. it was the first time he had indulged anyone in a conversation about himself, about his life before france, about you. you were clearly important to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have let himself get so caught away in talking about you, and he can’t help but feel surprised at himself for doing so.

“ain’t that simple,” he responds, the sharpness returning to his voice as his walls go up once more because he knows that he can’t deny the truth. he did still love you, of course he did, that was never in question. but he also can’t ignore the complex factors that had torn the two of you apart, or that it was entirely his fault.

sylvie pauses for a moment, before saying, “perhaps, but perhaps it also shouldn’t have to be so hard.”

daryl lets out a bitter scoff, his jaw clenching tighter and he turns his attention back to the road ahead. he doesn’t respond to her this time, his mind preoccupied with the tangled mess of his emotions. he knows that things should be simple. hell, they had been simple at one point. but life wasn’t a fairytale, especially in the world you now lived in and it was his job to keep you safe, whether you liked it or not.

you watch as daryl pulls his backpack tighter around his shoulders and continues walking as if you hadn’t said a word, as if you hadn’t just told him you wanted to go with him, wherever it was that he may end up. “i said i want to come with you,” you repeat louder now, your words echoing back to you as your heart thrums so loudly in your chest that you were sure it was going to explode.

daryl stills at your voice now, his shoulders tensing at your words. he had heard you the first time but hoped that you would drop it after seeing him continue on his way, but, of course, things could never be that simple. he can practically feel the desperation in your voice, the pleading tone making his heart ache, but he stubbornly resists the urge to turn around and look at you.

“...no.” he responds without any hesitation, any trepidation, his voice firm as he allows no room for you to argue.

“no?” your voice is a soft murmur as you move to stand in front of him. your gaze full of confusion and hurt, your heart still racing in your chest. “what do you mean ‘no’?”

his blue eyes finally meet yours, the usual warm depth within them now cold and guarded. he stands there, jaw clenched, looking down at you with a mixture of stoicism and stubbornness as he fights off the urge to reach out and smooth away the hurt he sees in your eyes.

“i mean ‘no’,” he repeats, his mind set. “ya ain’t comin’ with me.”

your heart sinks for the second time, the pain and confusion swirling inside you like a storm. you swallow hard, your eyes stinging with the onset of tears once more. “that’s it? just ‘no’? you’re not even going to consider it?”

“there ain’t nothin’ to consider,” his jaw clenched once more and he sighs heavily, as if the question pained him just as much as it did you. he brushes a hand through his hair, tucking it behind his ear as he bites down on his lower lip. “i can’t have ya gettin’ hurt.” his voice is quieter this time.

you stand there frozen as you watch daryl continue on to where his motorcycle was parked by the front gates, unable to comprehend the way in which he was acting. as if you hadn’t just spent the entire night making yourself sick over whether or not you wanted to go with him or stay behind at the commonwealth, all while he was sound asleep beside you.

daryl’s heart is heavy as he walks away from you, every step feeling like he was dragging anvils behind him, but he forces himself to remain stern, to stay strong in his decision. he was doing this for you. he had to.

you follow behind him, watching as he swings himself onto the bike and settles into the leather seat, “i know how to handle myself, daryl – you of all people know that.”

“that ain’t the point,” he snaps back.

“then what is the point?” you throw your arms up and let them fall back to your sides, your emotions beginning to get the better of you once again, but daryl wasn’t having any of it. “daryl, please… i want to come with you,” your voice cracks and you take a deep breath in trying to keep yourself in check but only failing.

the sound of your voice cracking breaks him, the pain in your words physically stabbing at his heart. but he couldn’t back down now, not after already making up his mind. he’d never be able to live with himself if something were to happen to you and all because he agreed to let you go with him. he had already almost lost you a handful of times, he didn’t know how much luck he had left and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to find out.

he looks away from you, avoiding your eyes and shakes his head, “no.”

you reach forward to place your hands on top of his as they lay on the handlebars of the motorcycle, “i can’t… i can’t be away from you. not again. not even if that means giving up our home and everything else we were building here. i want to be with you… please.” you take in a shaky breath as silent tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

daryl’s hands clench beneath yours, the gesture betraying his internal struggle. he can feel the weight of your words, the weight of your pain and your love for him. his heart aches, conflicting with the resolute part of him that was telling him to just start the motorcycle and ride off before he eventually gave in.

he lets out a heavy sigh, his expression conflicted and pained as he finally turns to look back up at you. seeing the tears streaming down your face breaks something in him.

“i’m… i’m doin’ this for your own good,” he says, the words sounding hollow even to his ears.

you shake your head, clamping your teeth down on your bottom lip in an attempt to stop the sobs that were clawing their way up your throat, but there’s no use, “that’s bullshit.”

he flinches at your words, his defences crumbling under the weight of your accusation. he knows you know him too well, that you can see through his excuses and facades. he takes in your tear-stricken face, the sight like a dagger to his heart. he can see the desperation in your eyes, and it’s tearing him apart.

his own eyes start to sting, his nose burning with the beginnings of tears. he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. no words could explain how he was feeling in that moment, the conflicting thoughts and emotions raging within his mind and his heart.

he can’t take it anymore, the sight of you crying, the weight of his own guilt, the pain of his decision. he lets go of the handlebars, his hands coming up to cup your face, his fingers wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks. he looks deep into your eyes, torn between loving you and trying to protect you.

he presses a kiss to your forehead. it’s soft and gentle, full of worry, but painful. he just wanted to do the right thing by you. he didn’t want you out there with him, he needed you here. he needed you safe. you would be safe with the others, and he knew carol would look after you.

he holds the kiss against your forehead a moment longer, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries to memorise the feel of your skin against his lips. when he pulls away, his eyes slowly open, looking at you with a thousand words left unsaid. he wants so desperately to just hold you, to keep you safe in his arms forever. but he can’t.

“so that’s it then?” you ask, your voice so small through your tears.

“m’sorry…” is all he manages, the words tasting like poison, but his mind and heart refuse to budge. “i just… i have to do this alone.”

“you really expect me to just go about my days knowing that you’re out there all alone? constantly worrying if you’re okay, or if you’re even alive?” your throat was burning with emotion, your eyes stinging as you try to maintain it. the thought alone of something happening to daryl was making you feel sick.

each of your words feels like a knife to his heart and he feels like a fool for being the one to cause you this much pain. he wants to tell you that he’ll be fine, that he’s strong and can keep himself safe… but the truth of the matter was, he had no idea what was going to happen the second he stepped outside the gates of the commonwealth, or if he would be okay. he was all too well aware of the fact that the thought of leaving you behind was as terrifying to him as it was to you.

“i’ll be fine,” he says anyway, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheeks. he wanted to give you some sort of reassurance, no matter how small or how little he actually believed it. he just needed you to understand that this was something he needed to do and that he knew how to look after himself well enough, but you see right through him.

“we both know you can’t promise that,” you whisper as you pull out of his touch. “not really.”

daryl can feel the distance between the two of you growing already with each second that passes, his heart aching and his head pounding all at once. your words only add to the guilt and the pain that he’s already feeling, knowing that he can’t give you the real reassurance you need. he swallows hard, trying to keep his own emotions in check.

deep down he knows he can’t promise something, that at that moment, he wasn’t even sure of himself. he could see the questions, the realisation, the hurt swirling in your eyes as you stared up at him, silently pleading for him to contradict you, to tell you that it wasn’t true.

“i can try,” is all he can muster and your heart feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. you knew daryl better than anyone, better than he knew himself, and you knew he was being sincere, but that didn’t stop the doubts and insecurities you had about him leaving. nothing would ever make you feel better about it.

“please…” he suddenly grabs your hands again, holding them tight in his own, not wanting to lose the feeling of your touch, of your skin against his. he could already feel it slipping away – feel you slipping away – and the distance growing further between the two of you. “please… just… trust me,” he practically pleads, his voice soft and his gaze filled with helplessness.

you look down at your hands wrapped in daryl’s, the touch feeling so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. it just serves as a painful reminder that he really was leaving. your own features are shaky as all you can do is accept his words with a nod, another tear rolling down your cheek as you press your forehead to his.

his eyes flutter shut as you rest your head against his, each tear that you shed causing the ache in his chest to grow even more. he can feel the resignation in your gestures, the way you submit to his decision, even if deep down you didn’t agree with it.

he savoured the feelings of you against him, eyes closed, his hands holding onto yours as if he were clutching on to the last shred of you that he had. he wanted to keep you here, in this bubble, forever if he could. and in that moment, he swears to himself that no matter how long he’s gone for, or how far away he ends up, he was going to come back for you, no matter how hard or how much time it took.

and he was going to keep that promise.

[halfbloodfics]

hi I’m not sure if anyone has asked for something like this but how about a dark and possessive snape, he walks into the great hall for dinner and sees reader all happy and talking to Remus lupin so he gets jealous and angry fucks reader 😭(sorry I get if this is weird)

YYYYEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW

Title: R U mine?

pairing: snape x female prof!reader, established relationship

18+ minors dni for the love of god.

cw: harddom!snape, rough sex, face fucking, choking, hair pulling, degrading, spanking, finger sucking, angry sex, threats of voyerism but no voyerism, begging, threats orgasm denial, ownership kink, slight breeding kink, fluffy ending, lil bit of aftercare described/rest of it implied

disclaimer: this is certainly a more rough smut than the other ones i've written. in ALL my writing, i always write with the intent that the actions of both characters are fully consensual, informed and desired. in this smut in particular, consent is explicitly given, but it is also provided before hand. i always write with the idea that characters boundaries, desires, safe words etc have been previously discussed. while smut is fun to read, extra care needs to be taken irl with hardcore sex and more rough kinks. consent, boundaries, and safewords are important xox

~

Severus had had a day, to say the least. He'd spent the previous 6 hours dealing with students and staff who seemed to be more interested in causing disturbances than their academic pursuits. Needy colleagues, roudy students and a quite literal physical fight between two first year Gryffindors.... Not to mention the never ending pile of papers on his desk that he had barely put a dent in, or the looming reminders of Dumbledore's plan creeping into the back of his tired mind. Severus had had, a day.

He found a quiet relief in the idea of spending the evening, alone, with his partner, you. Even if the past six hours had been excruciating, even if he still had more work to do today and the next day, and even the day, hell weeks, after that, at least tonight he could be by her side.

His gaze softened at the mere thought of it, walking down the long, stone corridors of Hogwarts down to the Great Hall.

A dinner. That's it. He thought. A simple meal, eat a few bites, take a few sips of wine, pretend to be at least somewhat listening to the small talk around. And then peace, finally p-

His thoughts trailed off as he entered the Great Hall to see you there. His brows furrowing once again, not at the sight of you, looking as gorgeous as ever, your hair down, dress hanging perfectly off your body. Not at the stunning smile on your face, the scrunch of your nose as you grinned or he rise of your chest as you laughed; not even at the fact that it wasn't him eliciting such a response.

No. It was the fact that the man who was, was none other than Remus Lupin.

His jaw clenched as he approached, waiting for the moment you so graciously would decide to pay attention to your own partner instead of the bloody werewolf beside you.

When he was steps away from his seat, you turned, face lighting up even more at the sight of him. His own expression was stoic, unmoving as he his gaze remained almost harshly on Lupin as you kissed his cheek in greeting.

With the food appearing before you, the three of you took your seats. Severus to your right, Lupin to your left, you in the middle. You began to cut into your food, continuing the conversation you had been having with Lupin before Severus had entered; blissfully "unaware" of your partners clenched jaw, his hardening grip on the fork as he began to cut a little harder into his food.

Your head tossed back in laughter once more, Severus could feel his frustration mounting. He picked at his food as you continued with giggling, counting down the minutes until you'd be excused.

~

It was late at night when you finally knocked on the door to Severus's chamber. The short grunt of acknowledgement on the other side prompted you to enter. You closed the door quietly behind you, taking off your coat and hanging it on the hanger.

"Hi, love." You spoke softly. When you didn't hear a response, you turned to look at him, really, look at him; and that's when you noticed the look in his eyes.

Leaning back in his chair, Severus sat with his arms crossed in front of his chest. His black hair hung slightly in front of his darkened eyes, the look in them akin to something you had rarely seen in him before.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the quick snap of his fingers shut you up.

"Now," He spoke, his voice low, "Now you come to me. Now you decide to grace me with your presence."

Your lips still parted, your brows furrowed in confusion, you spoke: "Sev? What-"

"How was your dinner?" He asked through gritted teeth, leaning further back in his chair as he fingers drug into the tight dark fabric of his sleeves. "Or, should I say how was the conversation? I wouldn't know, considering I was hardly a part of it."

You open your mouth to speak again but he cut you off.

"Do you want to know, the day I've had?" He murmered, his voice low, "Do you want to know, the shit... I've put up with?"

You let your lips close again, feeling the heat in your abdomen grow with the dangerously low sound of his voice. You both knew how much you liked when got like this... The possessive, darker side that you'd pull from deep within him if you wanted to. And you knew, that you certainly had wanted to. Why else would you laugh so loudly, at Lupins jokes, right beside Severus? Why else would you choose to ignore the clench of his jaw as he sat still beside you? You both had had countless conversations on the nature of this jealousy. On the boundaries of it, on the dangers, on the pleasures... And Severus knew exactly what pleasures you liked.

You stared at him from across the room, feet planted firmly in place. His gaze hardened as he watched your blank expression remain unmoving.

His chin tilted down only a little more, just enough for the dim candle light to cast dark shadows under his eyes. His anger dancing clearly upon his face now, he spoke, his voice a dangerously low hiss:

"Do you want to know, how I had been waiting, yearning, a single ounce of relief from the burdens thrust upon me? The promise of sitting beside my girl? Seeing her smile for me?"

You stayed frozen, completely transfixed by the look of barely restrained rage on his face. Unbeknownst to you, the pace of your breathing had quicked, air entering your lungs in quick trembling gasps.

The beginning of an apology threatened to spill out from your quivering lips, but it died before its escape with the raise of his finger.

"Do you know, " he hisses, his voice dripping in rage, "how it feels, to see my girl, giggling like a little slut with one of the men I depise the most?"

Something fluttered in your chest, the heat growing in your abdomen with his degrading words. You parted your lips again to apologize, or maybe to protest but-

"You don't." He hissed, a loud, seething whisper.

His darkened gaze lowered, tracing a dangerous path down your trembling body.

His gaze flicked back up to your eyes and your breath died in your throat at the wild, primal rage that seemed to swim within his eyes.

"No." He murmered, his voice nearly dropping an octave. "But you will."

Your stomach dropped, his eyebrow twitched: "Come here. Now."

You didn't even think to disobey. You closed the distance between where you stood and his desk, making your way around the stack of scattered parchment to stand in front of his chair.

Severus, however, had other plans.

With one swift movement, he rose from his chair, his firm hand tangling itself roughly in your hair, forcing you to your knees.

You gasped as he gave your hair a firm tug, forcing your gaze up at him. His hair was a mess, chest rising and falling drastically wiith each breath, as if it was taking every ounce of physical strength in his battered form not to absolutely pounce on you. His pupils blown, brows furrowed as he gritted out through clenched teeth: "You want this?"

You nodded, the heat pooling between your legs, thighs subconciously rubbing together as you looked up at him, seeking friction.

He grunted, gripped your hair tighter and you let an audible gasp splip from your lips. "What's our safe word?" He hissed.

"Asphodel." You whispered. Your voice came out a breathless, shaky sound.

His right hand slipped from your hair, fingers now roughly gripping your chin, forcing your lips to part further. In an instant they were slipped inside, roughly caressing your tongue.

You gasped, gagged for a moment on the unexpected penetration.

"Little slut." He spat. "Choking on that already?"

You whimpered, lips closing around his thick fingers as you began to lightly suck, coatiing his digits in your saliva.

Severus's jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly at the sight of you on your knees, looking up at him with those wide eyes. He roughly yanked his fingers from your mouth, gripping your chin and forcing that helpless gaze up higher.

When the beginning of another apology formed itself on your tongue, his voice silenced it imediately.

"Silence. I do not want to hear a single thing from your filthy lips except for you gagging and choking on me."

You swallowed, nodded.

Fuck.

Your panties were absolutely soaked now. You were sure it was enough to soak the floor beneath you. You could certainly feel it wetting your thighs, the dull ache of your clit throbbing as you looked up at him.

His right hand went back to gripping the back of your hair tightly, his other hand roughly tugging at the buttons of his trousers, unzipping, reaching into his black boxers.

He pulled out his long, hard cock, your breath quickening at the sight of it as you mentally prepared yourself.

His grip on your hair tightened. "How do you tell me to stop?" He practically growled.

Your answer came out a shaky gasp: "Three taps."

He yanked on your hair, your lips parting to gasp and immediately being stuffed by the entirety of his thick cock. Gagging, you choked, hands instinctively coming up to hold hips and regain some sense of control. Graciously, he allowed it, too focused on roughly thrusting himself into your mouth to bother with your pointless grip on his hips.

Both hands now held your head as he roughly began to thrust into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size. Gagging, tears filled your eyes, obscuring your vision as you tried to look up at him. Giving up, you squeezed them shut, focusing on breathing through your nose as he took what he wanted.

"Open... Your eyes." He hissed, giving a series of particularly rough thrusts to your throat. "You're going to watch me fuck your face. See it's me, not your little friend."

Your eyes flew open with as you gagged to find his harsh gaze looking down on you. He continued to fuck your face mercilessly as your hands trembled on his hips. You could hardly make out the sharp features of his face as tears filled your eyes, your mascara spilling down your cheeks as he continued to use you.

He grunted, his breath coming in quick sharp gasps as both hands roughly held your head in place with each harsh, quick thrust of his hips.

"Not so talkative now, are we?" He grunted, continuing his brutal pace.

You whimpered, gagging, trying desperetely to breathe through your nose.

Focus. Inhale. Exhale. Relax.

"No." He hissed, his breathing rapid. "Finally using that slut mouth for what it's meant for."

You whined, panting through your nose, feeling his cock roughly hit the back of your throat with each painful thrust.

A low moan escaped his lips. "Not mouthing off to that fucking wolf. Not laughing at his jokes."

His pace quickened, if it was even possible. His breathing was becoming more ragged, desperate, his release coming on quick.

A low moan left Severus's lips. With this encouragment, you sucked harder, bobbing your head in time with his rough thrusts. A ragged gasp tore up from his chest, filling the air with the lewd sounds of his panting and the lewd, wet slapping of your face against his pelvis.

Both of his strong hand thrusted your head firmly against his hips, his cock now painfully pushed against the base of your throat as he held you still, firmly in place.

With a grunt, he came, his hot, salty release painting your throat. Gagging, you screwed your eyes shut as he held you in place, coaxing every last drop it down your throat.

"Swallow." He panted. "Swallow it. You pathetic slut."

When you had, he used his right hand again to grip the back of your hair and yank you off him and released you.

Air filled your lungs instantly. As if you had been drowning, you stumbled back on your knees, collapsing, panting against the floor.

For less than a minute, you stared at Severus's black shoes, painting as you tried desperately to catch your breath. When you were sure you would not pass out, you looked up at him, aware that you probably looked a mess.

He was panting as well, looking down on you with that same, seething expression. You knew it had not been enough. To fuck your face was not enough. You had really pissed him off this time. He needed more.

His voice came out through gritted teeth: "Bend over."

You tried to stand, but his hand shoved your head back down before it could rise past his hips. Looking up at him confused, you felt the realisation dawn upon you with a flutter in your chest.

"Here, on the floor?" You whispered. Your voice was softer than you expected, as if he had managed to somehow fuck your vocal chords.

His jaw twitched and you didn't dare to question him again. On weak hands, you shifted so that you were on your hands and knees on the wooden floor.

In an instant he was on top of you. His one hand pressed between your shoulder blades, pushing you down so that your face was flush against the floor. His other hand ripped off your skirt, the fabric tearing loudly.

A silencing charm was cast.

"You're lucky I have an ounce of mercy left for you after the stunt you pulled today. Otherwise I'd have let everyone hear all your pathetic little cries." He spat, hooking his right arm under your stomach and hoisting you up so that you were on your knees in your panties, your face still pinned to the floor.

Severus was often a slow lover. It wasn't pace, per say, but rather the amount of time he dedicated to sex. Majority of the time, your love making, whether on the gentler or the rougher side, lasted up to an hour, sometimes more.

That patience was lost on Severus now though, who, without even stretching you, pushed the entirity of his cock into you.

A sound that was akin to a yelp left your lips as you clawed at the floor, panting at the feeling of him stretching you out.

Severus hissed, gripped your hips with his right hand, his left still pinning you to the floor. "Dirty slut." He murmered. "Soaked just from sucking my cock?"

You whimpered, nodded, any shame having long abandoned you.

Barely having given you time to adjust, Severus began to thrust into you at a brutal pace. His hips slapped against your ass, the skin actually starting to sting with the force of his thrusts. He had never fucked you so feverishly, so desperately, like a man who was clinging every part inside him urging him to claim. As if your flirting with Lupin really was an act of slipping away from him, and this was his remedy.

Lewd moans flew from your mouth, whining, desperate sounds. Babbling curses, his name, repeated half stuttered words you knew he liked to hear. A chorus of whimpers ringing out across the luckily, silenced room.

Severus left hand weaved itself through your hair, grabbing it at the base and roughly yanking your head back. Only then did you feel the drool slipping down your chin and realised how absolutely lost you were.

His speed steady, he kept a firm grip on your waist, leaning in to hiss in your ear: "Fucking pathetic. Getting fucked on the floor like a whore." He delivered a hard slap to your ass, causing your body to jerk back against him. "And you like it. Don't you, dirty girl?"

The "yes" that came from your mouth was ragged and broken, a mix of a whimper and a cry that struggled to make its way past your quivering lips.

His hand shifted from your hair to your chin, gripping it tightly, pulling you back higher as he continued to pound into you.

"I said." Thrust.

"You like it." Thrust.

"Don't you?" Thrust.

Your nails desperately scratched at the floor, seeking something to cling onto. The combination of his words, his pace, his dominance... Everything you liked, desired, all at once.. It was going to send you over the edge shamelessly quick if you didn't get it together.

"Ugh yes!" You sobbed. "L-love it..."

The hand gripping your chin offered a light, gentle slap before his fingers forced themselves into your mouth.

"Suck." He ordered, continuing his rough pace.

You obeyed, eyes closing as you tried to focus on sucking his fingers despite the growing heat in your abdomen as he continued to hit your G spot.

You could tell by his ragged breaths, the way his grunts were becoming more frequent, a little louder, that he was approaching his climax as well. He moved, like he needed it. Like he'd die without it.

Severus bit down hard on your neck, with his fingers still in your mouth, hand still gripping your waist as he moved.

The cry that came from you was muffled with his fingers, which began to thrust, fucking your mouth in time with his thrusts.

"You think I want you strutting around this castle acting like a greedy slut?" He delivered a hard slap on your ass. "Like I can't control you? Like my cock isn't enough for you?"

You whimpered around his fingers, shaking your head, eyes shut in pleasure as your legs began to shake.

"Walking around like I don't own this fucking pussy?" He hissed. "Like I don't fill it up with my cum every night?"

You whined at his lewd remarks. Never had you heard Severus speak so crudely or curse so much. You'd discussed it, sure, expressed your interest in it. It wasn't a foreign, and certainly not an unwanted concept... But it had never... Been as intense as this.

The way he slammed into you, fucking you on the floor as he nearly hissed into your ear, hands clawing at every part of your body. You could tell he was trying his best to fuck some sense into you, while also convincing himself that you were his.

And certainly, you wanted him to know.

When his fingers withdrew from your mouth to wrap themselves tightly around your neck, you let out a loud moan.

"Y-yours.. I'm.. I'm sorry.."

He growled, spanked you again. "Are you, now? Sorry for making my shit day worse or being a pathetic slut?"

You cried out, the sound muffled by the squeeze of his fingers around your throat. "B-both.. Sorry.. Sev.. S-sorry.." You said shakily.

Severus bit down on your ear, his lips moving down your jaw, your neck, leaving harsh, stinging bites on the skin there.

He began to grunt, his black hair fell on your shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, holding you up against his chest while he fucked you roughly.

His breath hot and rapid, you could feel the faltering of his hips, the hitching of his breaths. He was close.

"You don't even deserve to come" He practically growled against your neck as he delivered yet another harsh slap to your ass.

Now this was an outcome you hand't considered. You had teased him at dinner, with a goal in mind. But being denied your orgasm? When it was so strongly building inside you?

"Please." You whimpered, "Pl-please.."

Another stinging bite on your neck. "You don't deserve it."

Your legs threatened to give out underneath you with the sheer force of how much your body had begun to shake.

Your heart nearly dropped as the possibility that he really would deny you your orgasm grew more likely. Desperation clogged your mind, shown through quick, harsh pants and whines that flew from your quivering lips.

"Please." You nearly cried. "I'm sorry.. I-"

Your apology was cut short by your desperate whine as he hips completely stilled. For what seemed like the first time in years, he was now completely still inside you, panting against your neck.

This was it. You thought. He won't let me. He-

Severus's fingers loosened their grip on your throat, that hand moving now to completely cover your mouth, muffling your surprised moan. He lifted his head from your neck, murmering in a low firm voice in your ear: "You'll come. But only because I need to that slut pussy clench as you milk me dry. You understand?"

Your stomach fluttered as you nodded quickly.

His large hand remained firm on your mouth as he began to slam into you again, somehow even harsher, faster, than before. You cried out against his palm, moaning shamelessly as tears of pleasure and pain began to prick your eyes.

Your legs shaking rapidly, you were practically limp in his arms as he held you up and panted against your ear.

"Mine." He growled.

"Mine." Thrust.

"To use." Thrust.

"To fuck." Thrust.

"To fill." Thrust.

Now completely shaking, you could feel the knot in your stomach coiling tighter, beginning to clench around him as he fucked you brutally.

Severus released his hand from your mouth, the room instantly filling up with the sound of your cries.

He yanked your hair back again.

"Look... at... me..." He panted, and you obeyed.

In his eyes you saw the pure, released lust and possession swimming within them. The furrow of his brow, the slight gleam of sweat, his parted lips...

It was enough to send you over the edge, You came, hard. The tsunami wave of pleasure wracking itself over your body. You nearly screamed his name, a breathless, torn sound as you convulsed in his arms

Something shifted, changed in those eyes before he closed them, burying his face into the grove of your neck.

"i... love... you.." He whispered, so low you could barely even hear it, barely even able to focus on it as your orgasm wracked your body.

With the clenching of your walls around him, his hips stuttered as he came. A near whimper was muffled by the marked up flesh of your neck as he thrust his hips into you a final time, coating your insides in his release.

For a moment, all the two of you could do was pant. He continued to hold you up against his chest for several moments until both your breathing had slowly gone back to normal.

Once he had regained some control, Severus picked you up, sitting down on the chair at his desk with you in his lap. With your head nuzzled into his chest, you allowed your lungs to fill with the familiar scent of his robes.

The same fingers that had penetrated and grasped at you moments ago tangeled gently in your hair, coaxing out the knots that had formed as he brushed it away from your face.

As your eyelids fluttered open, you saw him looking down at you, a soft, almost invisible smile on his lips, his black eyes gentle once more.

"Was that alright, my love?" He murmered as his fingers moved down to trace over the marks he had left on your neck and collarbone.

Nodding, you let out a soft hum.

"Did I hurt you, was I to-"

You cut him off before his fear of actually hurting you could weave its way into his mind any further.

"Perfect." You whispered, weakly. "You were perfect."

His brow relaxed slightly at this. The corner of his lip twitching up in a small, half smile as he gazed down at you in his arms. With a soft hum, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Come," He said, picking you up, "Lets get you cleaned up."

-

this was the filthiest thing i've ever written. wowzers.

hope it was decent.

cheerio

xx

taglist:

@graciesbow @niftysnazzy @plecosylvia @dark-st  @3hrysfiction-blog @ilovegrapes-world @darkvoidz @lexiitaylorrrr @theheartwants-what-itwants

this is my first time using a taglist, which will be used for all my fics (smut and not) so you must be 18+ to join. i mean my blog clearly states minors do not interact. if you want to join, shoot me message or comment on my post where i ask if anyone wants to join. if you want to be removed, message me as well xo

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Say What You Wanna Say

Summary: Y/N is incredibly nervous to tell her dad she's Bi. How will he react?

Pairings: Teen!Reader x Dean (Non romantic pairing)

Warnings: None. Some angst. Mostly fluff. Coming out. Bisexual reader. Papa!dean.

Word Count: 1,212

A/N: About a week ago I received this anonymous ask for a fic about Dean's daughter telling him she's Bi. I was happy to write it, but warned the lovely anon that it might take a while for inspiration to hit as my muses have been off lately and not playing nice.

Then this morning I got this response from them, and it absolutely charged my brain for this fic and it just came pouring out. More proof that #kind words fuel authors.

On a slightly separate note, I just wanna thank everyone who's been so kind to me regarding my creativity stall and mental health hiccups. All your words (whether in the form of well-wishes or kind comments on fics!) have made a difference, and they are so very appreciated.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluffy fic. To the lovely anon who requested this - I hope it's what you were looking for. I went with a teen reader around 17 or 18 (she mentions choosing a college) just because it felt right for me in the story. But feel free to age her up or down as you'd like. Thanks for jump-starting my creative juices. (Sorry I said juices.)

Dean One Shots || Dean Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Y/N walked into the library to see her dad bent over a massive, old, leatherbound book. At least, she hoped it was leather. You never could tell with books in the bunker. One time when she was six she’d managed to sneak her way into the shelves in Room 7B and picked up a harmless looking book. Turned out to be a cursed book bound in dragonskin and she'd exhaled flames for a full day before her Auntie Rowena had gotten there to undo the curse.

She never went wandering through the shelves again.

But the book her dad was reading seemed innocuous enough, even though it had him scowling darkly at whatever he was reading. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, annoyed, or just concentrating. That scowl could mean a few things. The problem was, the conversation she had planned sort of called for him to be in a decent mood.

She considered turning around and coming back when she had a better read on his frame of mind, but just then Dean’s hunter senses kicked in and he looked up and caught her standing in the doorway.

She waved a little lamely. “Hey Dad.”

He grunted at her and went back to scowling at the book. 

She took a few steps into the library. “Something in there that’s bothering you?”

Dean shook his head. “No, it’s just pissing me off cause it’s not helping me figure out…” He trailed off and took another, closer, look at a sentence, skimming his finger along the page before shaking his head again and slamming the book closed. 

“Whatever, piece of shit.” He said, rubbing a hand down his face and then looking at Y/N. “What’s up kid?”

But Y/N was convinced now wasn’t a good time and she just waved at him dismissively. “No, nothing important. You’re obviously busy. We can talk later.” 

She turned to leave, but froze in the doorway when her dad’s deep voice called out to her.

“Hey! Nope. Stop. Turn.”

Y/N slowly turned back to face him to see he’d leaned back in his chair slightly and folded his arms over his chest. He lifted one hand to point at the chair beside him, turning slightly towards it.

“Sit. Talk.”

Y/N opened her mouth to once again tell him they’d talk later, but his raised eyebrow brooked no argument and told her she wasn’t getting away without talking to him. She contemplated making up something else to talk to him about. Something that wasn’t as likely to send him into a tailspin, but it wouldn’t work. Her dad saw through her lies way too easily. 

Nope. This was happening.

She walked over slowly to sit down beside him, tucking her feet up under her on the chair and twisting her hands in her lap. When she hesitated to speak, Dean unfolded his arms and leaned forward slightly.

“Talk to me, kiddo. What’s going on?”

Y/N shrugged. God, I don’t know how to start this conversation, she thought.

But she could see her dad’s scowl turning to worry in his bright green eyes which made her feel guilty so she smiled at him. It didn’t make the worry leave his gaze, but he offered a small smile back.

“Are you okay, baby? Did something happen at school? Did someone do something? Do I need to kick the shit out of someone?”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “No, Dad. School’s good. It’s fine.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, are you…are you changing your mind about going to Kansas State? Cause we talked about this, and I thought we-”

Y/N cut him off, shaking her head and waving her hands back and forth. “No, no, nothing like that. It’s not…it’s nothing with school. Look, just…” She cleared her throat. “Let me just try to say it, okay?”

Dean’s eyebrows settled back into a frown, the little double line of worry staying etched between them. He shrugged. “Okay, baby.”

His casual use of that endearment brought a dampness to her eyes. God, I hope I’m still his baby when this is done. She thought.

She took a deep breath. “So, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while now, a couple of months anyway, but I’ve just…I didn’t really know how to bring it up. I mean, I think, it’s actually something I’ve wanted to talk about for a couple of years, but I just kept denying it. But I can’t anymore, I can’t just pretend, and I don’t wanna and…”

She trailed off slightly, looking up at her dad and seeing only confusion and concern in his eyes. She exhaled the words out quickly.

“I’m bisexual.”

She watched understanding erupt in her dad’s expression as his eyes widened and his mouth slackened. He stared at her, just blinking for a few seconds and then he nodded slowly.

“Wow. That’s…that is not what I was expecting to hear.”

Y/N swallowed over and over, nervousness making her stomach ache. She was ready for the barrage of questions and possible challenges that were bound to come her way.

So, she was slightly thrown when he took a deep breath and spoke one word.

“Okay.” He said with one corner of his mouth lifted.

It was her turn to frown. “Okay?

His half smile turned into a full one. “Yeah, okay.”

“What does that mean?” Y/N asked with confusion.

Dean chuckled. “It means what it always means, kiddo.”

“So, okay…like, you’re fine with this? You don’t have…I don’t know, questions or arguments. This doesn’t bother you? I was expecting a bit of caveman in your response, to be honest. I mean, it doesn’t make you feel weird, or like…I don’t know…bug you?”

Dean pushed out his lips and raised his shoulders in a shrug. “Hey kid, I’m Gen-X, nothing bugs us.” 

Y/N scoffed and he laughed and conceded. “No, I don’t know, maybe if you’d told me twenty years ago, I wouldn’t have known what to do. Or it might have felt weird to me, or made me uncomfortable or awkward or something. But I learned a long time ago to let people be who they are, and I especially want you to be just exactly who you are. You’re an incredible kid, which means every part of you is incredible.”

He leaned forward and cupped her cheek. “Seriously, baby. I’m really glad you told me, and if you’re happy, I’m happy.” He kissed her forehead and she threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life, tears of relief and happiness flowing. 

“Thank you, Daddy.” She whispered.

When she pulled away, he held the back of her head in his big palm, the way he had when she was little. “Love you, kid.” He said gruffly.

“I love you too, Dad.” 

His eyes were a little watery as he sat back in his chair and cleared his throat. “And, you know, if you end up dating a chick, or marrying her, that’s one less asshole I have to punch in the jaw as a warning not to mess with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and chuckled. “That’s very progressive, Dad.”

Dean smiled brightly. “What? You gotta allow me a little bit of caveman.”

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[m00nkissedlover]

・｡good mornings ☁️

"in my rose-tinted dreams, wrinkled silk on my sheets, i don't see nobody but you~"

paul atreides x reader | word count: 681 words

summary: lazy mornings with paul ☁️

warnings: slight reference to sexual activity the night before, mention of aftercare. other than that, none!

note: here's a short, fluffy paul drabble to take your mind off of the horrors (iykyk, yes i live in the us-). get food, get water, i love you! 🫶🏾

sunlight filtered through the large windows of paul's bedroom, illuminating the two of you in a soft, warm glow. the two of you lay in his bed, a tangle of limbs beneath the soft, silk sheets and fluffy duvet. paul had his arm wrapped around your middle from behind, his chest pressed against your back as the two of you still wandered through dreamland.

paul was the first to wake up, slowly stirring awake as he blinked the sleep away from his eyes. he stretched out his body a little, gazing at your sleeping figure and feeling his heart swell with love and affection. you lay there, lips slightly parted as you took slow and steady breaths. your eyelashes casted shadows onto your soft cheeks, a bit of your hair falling in your face.

he was very careful to make sure he didn't wake up as he nestled back into hugging you from behind, skin touching skin. the two of you were left bare under the duvet cover after a rather eventful night of passion and love. glancing over at your neck and shoulder, paul couldn't help himself. he brushed some of your hair away from your neck, breathing in your scent before leaning over and pressing a feather light kiss to the crook of your neck. the hand of the arm around your waist would find your hip, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the smooth skin.

you slowly started to stir, feeling his touches. a soft and sleepy groan left your lips as you squirmed a little, a soft chuckle from paul reaching your ears.

"good morning." paul whispered, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot right under your ear.

you let out a soft sound between a yelp and a sigh?, your eyes fluttering shut for a few seconds. "hm?" you muttered, still sleepy and delirious.

paul couldn't help but laugh, resting his chin on your shoulder and kissing your cheek. "morning, love." he whispered again, your eyes finally opening.

you felt paul's fingers gently run up and down your arm, his fluffy bed head tickling your neck.

"mornin'" you mumbled, your voice a bit groggy and laced with sleep. you yawned before raising a hand to rub the sleep from your eyes.

paul always thought you looked the cutest when you first woke up, all drowsy and disoriented, mumbling incoherently, your hair all messed up and slight bags under your eyes. yes, he absolutely loved seeing you like this.

you started to turn your body so you could face him, paul pulling back a bit to give you some space. you yawned again and gave him a drowsy smile, your eyes still half-lidded. paul's heart skipped a beat, one of his hands coming up to caress your cheek.

"you're so beautiful in the morning..." he muttered, his eyes full of great affection.

"you say that every morning," you rasped, feeling his free hand settling onto your hip again.

"still doesn't change the fact that it's true." he hummed, pressing your foreheads together. his fingers slowly trailed up to your stomach, tracing lazy patterns as your fingers combed through his dark, curly hair.

that small gap was closed when paul leaned in to brush his lips over yours. you returned the feather light kiss, butterflies forming in your stomach.

"we should probably get up soon." you whispered, pressing another peck to paul's lips.

"five minutes never hurt anyone." he whispered back, making you laugh. you knew five minutes would turn into an hour, but you didn't mind. getting to spend the mornings after with paul was probably your favorite part of you two's nightly sessions of lovemaking. the second round of aftercare was always the best.

"five more minutes." you repeated, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

you lived for mornings like this. curled up together, sharing soft kisses and hushed whispers, just lying in each other's embrace and acknowledging each other's presence. it made your heart feel warm and most of all, it made you feel loved. and that's all you've ever wanted. ☁️

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[mrmeowski]

🔞˚✦𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟔: 𝐅𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 | 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐳𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐛✦˚🔞

Synopsis: You and Beel were assigned to cook in the kitchen. So you decided prepare a special treat for the brothers and the residents of the Purgatory Hall. Started as an innocent gesture quickly took a turn for the unexpected when an accident occurred. His hunger for sweets would turn to something more.

CW: Nipple sucking, counter sex, biting, rough sex, oral, hair pulling, overstimulation

Pairing/s: Beelzebub x M.Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Day 5: Praise Kink | Asmodeus»

It was a honest mistake, one that could have happened to anyone. Moments ago, you and Beel were having a great time baking together, laughing and chatting as you created adorable animal-shaped cookies.

But as you carried the batter, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and you slipped, landing on your bum with a thud.

"Fuck—" You cursed as you hit the pavement, the wind knocked out of you.

And before you could even process what had just happened, a heavy thump hit your chest, covering you in a mess of batter.

"[Name]!" He called out, rushing to your side with a look of worry etched on his face. "A-Are you okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.

You sat up, looking down at your messy state, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Y-Yeah... I'm fine." You replied, trying to brush off the batter. "Sorry about the batter..." You trailed off, expecting him to be mad or upset.

But instead of anger, he was just silent, staring at you with an intensity that made you feel a bit uneasy. You glanced up at him, worried that perhaps he was mad, but his expression was not what you expected.

"Beel?" You called out, trying to break the silence, and it seemed to do the trick, snapping him out of his trance-like state.

"A-Ah.. it's alright, we can make some again!" He smiled cheerily, ruffling your hair, but there was a glint in his amethyst eyes that you couldn't quite put your finger on. 

As you stood up, helping yourself with the countertops, you turned to him with a smile.

"Well, give me a few mins, I need to change—"

"Change?" He asked, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

You nodded, expecting him to understand the reason behind your need to change.

"Yeah, can't be wearing this while baking," you said, cracking a grin, but it quickly faltered as you noticed the look in his eyes.

"But... it's such a waste!" He exclaimed, his finger getting closer to your chest.

You instinctively backed away, chuckling nervously, "Well, we can't just scrape it off my clothes right? So..." You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"I'm here," he said simply, his voice nonchalant. You felt blood rush to your cheeks as you realized what he was implying. No, he couldn't mean that. Perhaps you'd just give him some clothes and—

"I could lick it off," he added as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

You stood there, wide-eyed, unsure of how to react. How could he just say that so... normally?

Had you always looked this delicious? He wondered to himself. Well, he had always found you delicious, but not this much. It makes his heart beat wildly and his cock throbbing hard. Your figure alone makes him drool, but with how the batter's glued onto your skin, it was the cherry on top.

"Beel?" You called out again, trying to snap him out of his trance-like state.

But instead of responding, he simply pinned you against the counter, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

"Beel!" You gasped.

His mouth was on your skin, licking the spilled batter off, his teeth occasionally brushing against your neck, and his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

As he pushed you further into the counter, forcing you to sit on top of it, you felt something else between your thighs, something hard and pressing. His crotch was brushing against yours, his hardening erection evident even through the thick fabric of his pants.

Your breath hitched as you felt a rush of arousal, heart pounding in your ribcage.

As his eyes locked onto yours, you saw a glimmer of excitement and a hint of a grin spreading across his face. He began to travel down your body, his gaze now fixed on your chest.

His teeth grazed against the thin fabric of your apron and blouse, stopping when his lips felt the remaining batter that coincidentally lay atop of your nipple. You felt a jolt of electricity run through your body as his lips made contact with your skin, and you couldn't help but moan in response.

"W-Wait—" You managed to stammer out, your hand involuntarily grasping a fistful of his messy pumpkin-shaded locks of hair.

You were so sensitive, and this was the first time anything like this had happened. You knew sooner or later one of the brothers would lose control, and it seemed that Beelzebub was the first to succumb to his desires.

As he toyed with your nipple using his tongue soaking the thin fragments of your clothes, you could feel his hands wrapping around your waist, his fingers digging into your garments almost ripping them.

He muttered against your chest, "You taste so good..." His head continued to move further down your body, his lips and tongue tracing the curves of your skin until he was above your stomach.

As his fingers dug deeper into your clothes, ripping the sides of your blouse and apron.

"M'sorry [Name]... need more of you." But it was clear that he was beyond caring about your clothes at this point.

His eyes were fixed on the bowl of remaining batter, and his stomach was growling with hunger. He threw the ripped clothes aside like they were trash, and his hands reached for the bowl.

"Such a waste..." He growled, his voice low and husky. "You wouldn't mind would you, hm..?" He whispered, his head still resting on the crook of your neck.

You eyed the bowl of batter, and your brows knitted together in confusion.

"W-What do you mean?" You asked.

His eyes locked onto yours then he smiled, his teeth glinting in the light.

"I just... want to devour you." His hands reached for the bowl of batter, and he dipped his fingers into it, scooping out a generous amount. He raised his hand, and you saw that he was covered in batter, his fingers dripping with it.

Without warning, he smeared the batter all over your chest and stomach, covering you in a layer of the sticky substance.

As the cold batter hit your sensitive skin, you hissed in shock, your body tensing up in response to the sudden sensation.

"B-Beel! People could see us here—" You moaned, trying to protest, but your words when his teeth sank into you.

It was clear that Beelzebub was in no hurry to let you finish. He was savoring every moment, every sensation, and he didn't want you to come just yet. Not when he hadn't even felt your insides.

His hands slowly travelling down your pants and pulling them down before stopping right above the knees. You could only gasp for air, bitting your lips as he exposed your skin to the warm air.

He reached for the batter again, smearing it all over your thighs, and then, to your surprise, on the tip of your cock making you squirm.

As soon as he was finished, he knelt down whilst his mouth closed around your cock, his lips and tongue working together to send you into a world of pleasure.

His tongue danced around your cock with and his hands gripped your thighs lightly, holding you in place. You tried to stifle the moans that were building up inside you by covering your mouth with your hands, but it was no use.

Your toes curled up inside your shoes as the pleasure became almost too much to bear. Tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes as his pace quickened, his mouth moving up and down your cock with a fervor.

"Beeeeel..." You moaned, the sound muffled by your hands.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore, and you felt yourself cumming in his mouth. He swallowed every last drop, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he pulled back and looked up at you.

"You taste so good..." He licked his lips, a mix of batter and your cum staining his tounge "N-Need more." With that, he stood up and began to take off his pants, the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor making you jump.

You watched in a daze as he revealed his own cock, long and thick, and you couldn't help but wonder if it could even fit inside of you. He began to take off his own shirt, freeing his chiseled body. You felt like you were gazing at the body of some ancient Greek God.

"M'going to fill you up," he said, his voice low and menacing, sending shivers down your spine. "Goin' to make you feel so good..." He swiftly inserted himself into you, his cock sliding into your tight ass causing him to groan for how tight and warm it was.

The pain caught you off guard as your body struggled to adjust to his length, and you couldn't help but cry out as he began to pound into you roughly.

"Ah, Beel... it h-hurts," you moaned, your voice barely audible.

As if you weren't overstimulated enough, he leaned down, tongue tracing the curves of your body, licking off the batter from earlier. His actions also maed your sensitive cock grind against his stomach as he continued to move his hips.

He growled against your flushed chest, "Ah, [Name] s-sorry... just need more..." He bit down on your pecks, gaining a loud moan from you.

"Oh f-fuuuck..." You closed your eyes, your body trembling with pleasure.

You couldn't hold your moans any longer, nor did you care if someone heard or saw the two of you. Consequences later. It felt too good being unraveled by The Avatar of Gluttony to even beg him to stop.

He fastened his pace, getting closer to his climax, he became more aggressive, eating your body and leaving bite marks and hickeys everywhere.

After what seemed like hours of being rachised by him you felt the warm, slick cum shooting deep into your ass. You couldn't help but cum as well, painting his pecks with your own. Honestly, you felt like you were going to pass out any moment.

"I love you, [Name]..."

Request» Materlist»

*•.𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃.•*

Day 7: Morning Sex | Belphegor» [WIP]

[simplygojo]

The Devi He Made Me - Ch. 11

Authors Note: HAPPY END OF KINKTOBER!!! I am so happy to be back to my regular schedule, when i say that it drained me...omg...anywayysss, new chapter of TDHMM-yippie-Shit is starting to get serioussss. I hope you love it :)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary : After another excruciatingly painful nightmare, Gojo takes y/n to go see if Shoko might be able to identify just who she keeps seeing in her teams, and finally put an end to this all. However, after an unexpected surprise, things go downhill, as they all realize how serious y/n's situation really is...

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: angst, mention of death, minor creepy vibes

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi ; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; @sdv98o; @theendx888; @dvmb4ssbiatch; @sugxryratz; @kinny-away; @crankyarchives; @enfppuff; @nanamisrighthand; If you’d like to be added to the series tag list, leave a comment below:)

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Morning light seeped into your room, pale and muted, casting long shadows that seemed to cling to every surface. 

You hadn’t slept much; fragments of last night’s conversation between Gojo and Nanami still rang in your ears. 

One thing he said really stuck in your mind; ‘no matter how much I try to shove my feelings aside; they keep finding their way back to her. She’s in my head—she’s everywhere I look…’ 

It had been raw, so unlike his typical unbreakable confidence, and it twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

A knock interrupted your thoughts, soft but steady, and you knew right away it was him. Gojo’s hand had a careful rhythm, one that was somehow both reassuring and nerve-wracking.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, a murmur through the door. “Can I come in?”

You swallowed, straightening a little as you called out, “Yeah, sure.”

He stepped in, the door creaking softly behind him. Gojo’s usual easygoing expression was gone, replaced with a serious, almost guarded look. 

He stood there for a moment, eyes scanning your face as if searching for signs of the sleepless night you’d had. 

His shoulders were more tense than usual, his mouth pressed into a thin line. You could feel the energy in the room change, thick and palpable, a strange tension hanging between you.

After a moment’s hesitation, he moved to sit at the edge of your bed, close enough that you could feel his warmth but just far enough to keep the distance between you painfully obvious. 

His hand rested on his knee, fingers flexing, then curling tightly as if to keep himself from reaching for you. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, but his eyes held a flicker of caution.

“I talked to Shoko,” he said, each word careful, his gaze not quite meeting yours at first. 

“About your nightmares and the memories you’ve been seeing. She thinks we might be able to take a look.” 

His eyes finally lifted, holding yours, an unreadable intensity making your pulse skip. 

“She set up some tests using cursed energy to amplify the memories stored in your brain. It’ll be… intense, but it could help us understand what’s going on with you.”

Your breath caught, hope and uncertainty tangling inside you. “You think it’ll work?”

Gojo nodded slowly, his face softening with a small, almost imperceptible smile. 

“If anyone can pull it off, it’s Shoko. But—” he hesitated, then leaned in just a fraction, his gaze narrowing slightly as he searched your eyes. 

“It won’t be easy. These memories… they’re tied to something powerful, something you might not fully understand yet. And depending on what we find…” 

He trailed off, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his knee, as though weighing something heavy. 

“Depending on what we see, things might change. You have to be sure you’re ready for this.”

The air between you seemed to thicken, his words sinking in. There was a hint of something vulnerable in his face, an unspoken warning. 

You weren’t entirely sure what he meant by ‘things might change,’ but the intensity of his gaze left no room for doubt about the seriousness of this choice.

After a beat, you took a steadying breath, a resolve building inside you. 

The nightmares had been clawing at you for weeks, pulling you into glimpses of darkness and confusion. If this was a way to finally understand it, even if it meant facing something dangerous, you knew you had to try.

“I’m ready,” you said softly, your voice steady.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, though a shadow of that worry lingered in his eyes. 

“Didn’t think you’d say anything else,” he replied, a faint, bittersweet smirk tugging at his lips. Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out, his hand hovering for a moment before finally coming to rest on your shoulder. 

His touch was warm and grounding, his thumb barely brushing the fabric of your shirt as if he were testing the weight of the contact.

“Let’s figure this out,” he murmured, his voice low, tinged with something he couldn’t quite keep hidden. 

His fingers lingered on your shoulder a beat too long, his eyes still locked with yours. 

Then, reluctantly, he let his hand slip away, his fingers brushing against your arm as he withdrew. 

You could still feel the warmth of his hand, a lingering reminder of his presence, leaving your skin buzzing.

Whatever was hidden in those memories, whatever awaited you in Shoko’s tests—you were about to find out. And with Gojo by your side, even the fear seemed a little more bearable.

—

As you and Gojo make your way through the quiet hallways toward Shoko’s clinic, an uneasy silence stretches between you. 

He walks just a half-step ahead, his usual swagger subdued. Every now and then, he glances your way, his hand moving as if he might reach out, only to let it fall back to his side. 

Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of what you’re about to face pressing down on both of you.

Finally, you break the silence, voice barely above a whisper. “I… I am a little scared, you know?”

Gojo stops for a second, turning to look at you with an expression caught between surprise and something deeper, almost pained. 

His usual mask of confidence falters, and for a moment, his eyes soften. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words don’t come. 

It’s like he’s struggling with some inner battle, something that holds him back.

“I get it,” he says quietly, looking away. 

“This isn’t… easy.” He laughs softly, almost to himself, but it lacks his usual ease. 

“I mean, facing this stuff—anyone would feel the same.” He pauses, his eyes flickering back to you, as if he’s waiting for you to believe him. 

You can tell he wants to say more, something that seems to gnaw at him, but he just runs a hand through his hair, glancing away.

Nanami’s words echo in his mind: Sometimes, she just needs to know she’s not alone. You need to decide if you’re going to tell her how you feel, or risk losing her in the silence.

Gojo clears his throat, as if pushing the thought aside, and starts walking again, slower this time as you matched his pace. 

He can feel your gaze on him, and it makes his heart race with something he’s not used to. 

When he risks another glance, you’ve got that look in your eyes—the same one that’s haunted him for days, making him wonder if this silence between you was worth the risk.

—

When the two of you finally reach Shoko’s clinic, she’s already setting up the equipment. 

The faint hum of machines fills the room, a steady reminder of the unknown you’re about to face. Shoko greets you with a reassuring smile as she adjusts the settings on a peculiar-looking machine connected to a nearby screen.

“Y/n,” she says, giving your arm a gentle squeeze, “this machine will help focus my cursed energy into the memories stored in your brain. Hopefully, it’ll amplify the images enough for us to see what you’ve been experiencing in those nightmares. But I have to warn you—this might be intense.”

You nod, trying to appear braver than you feel, but Gojo notices the slight tremor in your hand as you settle into the chair. 

He watches as Shoko starts to attach small sensors to your temples and wrists, her movements calm and practiced.

To distract yourself, you make a little small talk. “So… this isn’t a normal part of your daily routine, huh?”

Shoko chuckles softly. “Nope. But I’ll admit, it’s a little exciting,” she says, glancing at Gojo with a smirk. 

“He’s been pushing for us to try something like this for a while now. Always so determined.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow, his usual cocky grin making a brief appearance. 

“Can’t blame me for being proactive,” he teases, but his voice lacks its usual bite, and his gaze remains fixed on you, the hint of worry still there.

With the machine finally set up, Shoko gives you a final reassuring nod. 

“Okay, y/n. Just relax and try to let the memories flow. Focus on whatever images you remember seeing in your dreams, even if they’re fragmented. Let’s see what comes through.”

You take a deep breath, heart pounding, and close your eyes, reaching into the swirling depths of your mind. 

Shoko’s cursed energy pulses gently, a warm yet unfamiliar presence threading into your consciousness, guiding you back to the shadows of your nightmares.

The screen behind you flickers to life, a hazy swirl of shapes and colours forming, but nothing solid enough to grasp. 

Blurred images flash—dark forests, twisted silhouettes, flashes of light and shadow—like fleeting glimpses of something lurking in the back of your mind.

“Come on, y/n,” Shoko encourages gently, her voice grounding you. “Try to focus on the details. Anything you can remember.”

You try harder, diving deeper into the fragmented memories. Each attempt only brings flashes—a featureless face you can’t quite place, a feeling of searing pain, as though something is clawing its way out of you. 

But just as you think you’re close, it slips away, the images blurring and scattering into darkness.

The struggle shows on your face, and Gojo can’t stand the look of frustration and pain that crosses your features. 

He shifts closer, his hand reaching out instinctively before he stops himself, hesitating. His jaw tightens, torn between his instinct to protect you and the words he can’t seem to bring himself to say.

He clears his throat, voice soft but steady.

“Take your time. Don’t push yourself too hard.” His words are gentle, a quiet contrast to his usual conduct, and you can feel the sincerity behind them.

But even his voice couldn’t cut through the storm in your mind. 

The memories remain distant, elusive, slipping through your grasp like smoke. 

The frustration is overwhelming, each attempt to hold onto the fragments feeling like trying to capture water with bare hands. 

You’re ready to give up, to surrender to the aching fog that clouds every detail—but then, something shifts.

A sharp, searing pain strikes deep in your mind, like a knife twisting through the haze. Your breath catches, and suddenly, everything clears for a brief, terrible moment.

An image crystallizes on the screen behind you, vivid and horrifying.

A man—tall, with long jet-black hair cascading over his shoulders, dressed in dark purple robes that seem to shift in the shadows. 

His face is twisted into a sinister smile that chills you to your core. 

But it’s his eyes that hold you captive, cold and calculating, as though he’s staring straight through you, mocking you. 

And there’s something else—a line of stitches that runs across his forehead, as though he’s been sewn together, piece by piece, into something monstrous.

It’s a face you know you’ve seen before, lurking at the edges of your mind, hidden in the shadows of your nightmares.

The name slashes through your thoughts, clear and undeniable.

You gasp, your whole body tensing with the shock of recognition, and the image on the screen flickers, distorting with static. 

But it lingers, hanging in the air like a ghostly imprint before it vanishes completely, leaving only a dark emptiness on the screen.

Shoko’s eyes widened, and a sharp gasp slipped past her lips, her usually calm demeanour cracking as she processed what she had just seen. 

“That… that was Geto, wasn’t it?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

Gojo’s reaction is immediate. His face drained of colour, and for a second, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost. 

His usual confidence is nowhere to be found, replaced with a raw, unguarded shock that he quickly tries to suppress. 

But his hand still hovers near you, clenched into a fist, as if he’s struggling to contain a surge of emotion.

“Suguru..” He murmured, almost to himself as his eyes remained locked on the blank screen. 

“How is this even possible?” His voice tinged with disbelief and dread.

For a moment, you’re overwhelmed by the memory, by the terror that pulses through you. 

“I—I don’t know,” you stammer, feeling as though you’re back in that nightmare, as if you’re staring into those cold, unfeeling eyes all over again. 

“That’s him though, the man in my nightmares….… I think he did something to me. That night in the forest—there was… there was a feeling, like something was breaking inside me.”

Gojo’s hand finally closes around your shoulder, grounding you. His grip is firm but gentle, his fingers just slightly digging into your skin, steadying you as he pulls you back from the edge of the memory.

You searched his face, his expression so intense it was almost unreadable—anger, yes, but there was something else there, something raw and unspoken.

“That man…” You took a shaky breath, piecing the fragments together. “Do… do you know him?”

The question seemed to pierce right through him. 

For a moment, Gojo’s usual composure faltered, his hand dropping from your shoulder as he took a step back. 

His face tightened, his mouth pressed into a grim line, and his gaze fell, no longer meeting yours.

“Yes,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. There was a pause, weighted and painful, and when he spoke again, his tone was low, haunted. “He was my best friend.”

The words hit you like a wave, leaving you speechless. 

Gojo’s best friend. It was hard to imagine him with that kind of connection to someone so terrifying, someone who left such a dark mark on your mind. 

The man from your nightmares, the man who had been torturing your dreams, was once someone Gojo trusted, someone he cared about.

“But…” You struggled to find the words, feeling a strange, twisting ache as you watched the turmoil flicker in Gojo’s eyes. 

“If he was your best friend… then what happened?”

Gojo’s gaze lifted to meet yours, a mix of sorrow and something harder, colder, that you had never seen from him before. 

“I killed him.” The confession dropped heavily between you, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse. “It was… the only choice I had.”

For a second, the room felt colder, the weight of his words sinking in. You could barely process it. 

The ache in your chest deepened as you took in his pain. The way his hand had lingered on your shoulder, the protectiveness in his gaze, even the anger—it all made sense now. 

“Gojo…” you started, but he cut you off, his eyes blazing with a fierce resolve.

“Whatever Suguru did to you, whatever he left behind, I’ll find a way to remove it,” he vowed, his tone thick with emotion. 

“I won’t let his darkness touch you any more than it already has.”

The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. 

You could feel the weight of his promise, a fierce protectiveness that was nearly overwhelming. 

There was so much he wasn’t saying, so much he was holding back, but you could see it in his gaze—the regret, the guilt, the memories of a friend turned enemy.

You swallowed, nodding as you tried to process it all. 

“Thank you… I don’t even know how to start making sense of this, but…” Your voice trembled. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

Gojo’s eyes softened, and he offered a faint, bittersweet smile. 

“I won’t let you go through this alone,” he said gently, and this time, his hand rested on your shoulder a little longer, grounding you, promising you that he’d stand by your side, no matter what.

The weight of his words settles over you, a strange comfort in the midst of fear. 

The memory has left a scar on your mind, but Gojo’s presence beside you feels like an anchor, grounding you in the present, keeping you from sinking back into the darkness.

He released your shoulder slowly, his gaze lingering on you with a mixture of regret and resolve. Nanami’s words still echo in his mind, a reminder that he can’t ignore any longer. 

But for now, he buries it, focusing on what matters most. Finding out what Geto had done to you.

“I think that’s enough for now, Shoko.” Gojo said curtly as his hand found the spot between your shoulder blades, gently pushing you forward to get off of the chair. 

—

Gojo’s hand rested firmly against the small of your back, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the quiet hallway. 

Yet something about his touch felt different—less his usual casual, steady presence and more like an unspoken promise, as though he was trying to keep you tethered to something he could barely name. 

The late morning light spilled in through the windows, but it felt muted, its warmth blunted by the tension of this new discovery that seemed to hover between you.

The silence was thick, stretching out in the spaces between your steps, until you could no longer bear the weight of it. 

You glanced up at him, catching the crease in his brow, the intensity in his gaze as he looked ahead. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and for once, his usual mask of playfulness was gone, replaced by something darker, more conflicted.

“Gojo… are you okay?” you asked quietly, hesitantly, your voice barely breaking the stillness around you.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, his gaze fixed ahead, but you could feel his fingers press just a fraction more firmly against your back. 

It was as if he needed that point of contact–a reminder of your presence to keep himself grounded. 

You stopped, turning to face him fully, forcing him to meet your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words catching slightly in your throat. “I didn’t mean to put all this on you… to cause you so much stress.”

At that, he froze, his eyes widening slightly as though your words had struck a nerve he hadn’t expected. 

The surprise softened into something deeper as he looked down at you, his expression raw and unguarded. 

Without a word, he lifted a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin with a touch so gentle it left a shiver in its wake. 

There was a fierce, unyielding resolve in his gaze, but there was something else too—something vulnerable, something he had yet to say.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “you have nothing to apologize for.” 

He held your gaze, his blue eyes steady, resolute hidden behind his usual frames. “I’m going to–we’re going to find out what Geto did to you. I swear it.”

The intensity of his words struck you, the weight behind them settling into your chest. 

He was close now, closer than he’d been since your heated moment he chose to forget, his face mere inches from yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your cheek. 

You could feel the quiet ache in his touch, the unspoken emotion simmering between you, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in his eyes—a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. 

His gaze dropped to your lips for a fleeting second, and his breath hitched, as though he were teetering on the edge of something he couldn’t take back.

But then, his expression shifted. 

The softness faded, replaced by a hard, unyielding line as his jaw tightened, his body going rigid. 

His hand slipped from your cheek, and his eyes narrowed, his attention snapping toward your room down just the hallway, his gaze dark and clouded with a new intensity.

“Gojo…?” You asked, feeling a sudden chill creep up your spine.

He barely heard you, his focus now locked on the closed door of your room, his entire body tense, as if preparing for battle. 

His eyes flashed with something fierce, a simmering rage that was barely visible.

Without another word, he took a step forward, his hand dropping to his side as he gathered his cursed energy, the very air around him thickening with a quiet, lethal power.

His gaze flicked back to you, filled with something fierce and protective—a look that made your heart beat faster, though not from fear.

“Suguru,” he uttered, the name slipping from his lips like a curse, his voice cold and sharp.

A surge of dread washed over you as he spoke, and you could feel the shift in the air, the weight of something sinister lingering in the hallway. 

You saw his fingers curl, his hand lifting ever so slightly, his cursed energy humming just beneath the surface, ready to strike.

Instinctively, you took a step forward, reaching out to follow him, but his hand shot out, pressing you back gently but firmly. 

“Stay here,” he said, his voice laced with a deadly calm. The authority in his tone was undeniable, and there was a hard edge in his gaze, one that told you he wouldn’t let you argue this time. “I would never mistake it…he was here.”

You swallowed, wanting to be by his side, to help in any way you could, but the look in his eyes stopped you. 

It was the look of a man who would protect you at any cost, who would let nothing and no one harm you again. 

There was a storm brewing in him, a silent fury that seemed to burn away any remnants of his usual carefree demeanour.

For a moment, all you could do was watch, feeling a mix of fear and something deeper, something that tugged at your chest. 

The door creaked open under his hand, and he slipped inside, leaving you standing alone in the hall, acutely aware of the silence that followed. 

Inside, Gojo's eyes swept the room. 

It looked untouched—your bed was neatly made, the sunlight filtering through the blinds cast soft patterns across the floor, and nothing seemed out of place. 

But beneath the ordinary, he could feel it, like a faint pulse in the air. 

Geto’s cursed energy lingered, barely perceptible but unmistakable, weaving through the room like the ghost of a dark promise.

The subtle residue prickled against his senses as he remembered what happened last time he felt Geto’s cursed energy around one of his students…His jaw clenched, and he forced his breathing to remain steady as he let his gaze drift over every inch of the room, his attention as sharp as a blade. 

The thought of Geto being here, in your private space, sent a surge of anger through him, burning away the last remnants of calm he had managed to hold onto.

He moved further in, his footsteps barely making a sound as he scanned the shadows, his cursed energy flickering out like invisible tendrils, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. 

Every instinct in him screamed to root out every last trace, to eliminate even the faintest whisper of Geto’s presence from this room, this place that should have been safe for you.

But even as he combed through the empty spaces, there was nothing solid—no sign of a physical intrusion, no ransacked belongings or broken barriers. 

Just that faint, dark thread of energy, faded but lingering, as if Geto had been here recently, watching, perhaps even waiting.

The thought twisted in Gojo’s mind like a knife. 

He tightened his fist, his knuckles pale against the light. 

The implications of Geto’s presence—the questions of what he wanted, what he had planned, why you—gnawed at him, a reminder of just how much he had failed to keep Geto away from you. 

He was supposed to be the strongest—a weapon of jujutsu society…

And for the first time in a long while, Gojo felt a sting of helplessness that cut through his determination, a flicker of vulnerability that he despised.

With a final sweep of the room, Gojo made his way back to the door, his expression grim. 

—

When he stepped back into the hallway, his gaze softened only slightly as he met yours, his earlier storm barely concealed beneath a thin veneer of calm.

When Gojo’s gaze finally met yours, he felt his chest tighten, an unfamiliar ache that unsettled him more than he’d ever admit. 

The whirlwind of anger and worry roiling beneath his calm exterior nearly broke free, but he held it in check, unwilling to let you see the full force of his turmoil. 

He had always been careful with you, keeping the weight of his emotions hidden behind easy smiles and lighthearted words. But right now, with the events of the morning and Geto’s presence still haunting the air around him, he felt his resolve slip.

In the silence, he searched your face, seeing the fear, the confusion—and that undeniable spark of trust shining in your eyes. 

It made his heart clench, that unguarded look you gave him, as if he were your anchor in a world turned upside down. His usual self-assurance faltered as he took in the vulnerability you didn’t try to hide, and for a split second, he wondered if you saw past his composed facade, if you knew just how far he’d go to keep you safe.

You looked up at him, your gaze unwavering despite the uncertainty hanging between you. 

There was something raw in your eyes that left him feeling both exposed and deeply, irrevocably drawn to you. 

He didn’t know how to protect you from what Geto had left behind or how to untangle the curse that seemed to reach through your memories like twisted roots—but he knew he wouldn’t stop trying.

“Satoru…?” You murmured, voice gentle but questioning, as if sensing the weight he carried, the silent storm he hid just beneath the surface. 

The way you said his name—it was both grounding and terrifying. He was so used to people looking to him for protection, for answers. 

But you looked at him like you saw more, like you saw him—the man beneath the power.

He swallowed, feeling a sudden need to say something that would make this easier for you, that would lighten the weight in your eyes. But nothing came, no easy jokes or clever words. 

“Y/n,” he said quietly, the words thick with an emotion he hadn’t dared put a name to. 

“I don’t why Suguru here, and I don’t know why he is in your dreams—or memories—whatever it is.” He began, pulling himself out of his thoughts. 

You nodded, “I don’t expect you to,” you said but looked just beyond Gojo’s shoulder back at your bedroom door unsure of what had happened. 

“Does this mean he had been in my room…” You said, your voice sounding unsure of your words as you said them. Your stomach twisted at the thought of it.

Gojo’s expression hardened, his jaw clenching as he turned to glance back at your room. There was a cold, dangerous glint in his eyes as he considered what Geto’s presence might mean. 

The thought of Geto lingering in your space, leaving traces of his cursed energy for you to stumble upon, was enough to set a low, simmering fury in his veins. His shoulders tensed, the very air around him thickening with a restrained power he fought to keep in check.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice a low murmur, barely hiding the rage that simmered beneath. “He was here, and not too long ago. This energy—it’s fresh.” 

His hand hovered at his side, clenched tightly as if resisting the urge to break something. 

His mind raced with the possibilities, the motives behind Geto’s actions. Geto wasn’t one for careless plans. 

Every move he made was precise, calculated, with a reason lurking in the shadows.

You swallowed hard, feeling a chill seep into your bones. The thought of Geto standing in your room, of his twisted, mocking presence lingering in the air you breathed, made your skin crawl. 

Gojo’s gaze softened as he looked at you, noticing the way your hands trembled slightly as you processed his words. 

His hand reached out instinctively, his fingers brushing against yours, grounding you, reminding you that he was here. 

His touch was warm and reassuring, and yet beneath it, you sensed a deeper tension, a protectiveness that bordered on desperation.

After a moment of silence, Gojo took a steadying breath, his hand releasing yours and being shoved into his front pockets before speaking.

“Jujutsu High isn’t safe for you anymore,” he said, his voice resolute.

The words came out sharper than he intended, but he didn’t soften them. 

“Not while he’s still out there, slipping past our defences like it’s nothing.” His eyes met yours, unwavering, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something—guilt, regret, a hint of the burden he carried. 

“I can’t watch him take anything else from me,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, a mixture of fear and emotion swirling within you. The thought of leaving Jujutsu High, of being uprooted from the only place you had found to be safe since losing your memory. But as you looked at Gojo, at the determination set in his features, you realized that this was more than just a decision for him. 

It was a promise, a duty he’d taken upon himself to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

“What… what do you mean?” You asked, your voice barely a whisper, searching his eyes for answers, for reassurance.

“I’m going to take you somewhere he can’t reach,” he said, his tone softened but unwavering. “Somewhere I know you’ll be safe. But we can’t waste any time.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you, the gravity of what lay ahead. There was an ache in your chest, a strange sense of finality, but beneath it all, you felt a glimmer of hope—a hope rooted in him, in his strength, his resolve.

“Pack a few things,” he murmured, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer, before finding his phone screen as he pulled it out of his pocket and began texting someone. “We’re leaving as soon as you’re ready.”

[quibbs126]

And speaking of Ceres and Reno, I feel like they should have interacted in game, considering their significance to the story

(Might as well note major Evoland 2 spoilers for anyone who cares)

They’re both essentially the closest we have to major antagonists in the game, Reno for the first half and Ceres in the second, and not to mention they’re half siblings, which is something never touched upon in game since again, Ceres’s reveal isn’t until just before credits. Like Reno doesn’t even know he has a half sister running around, and it’s debatable whether Ceres knows of him or their connection, though regardless she never makes any mention of him

Like, maybe have the two working together? I don’t know why they’d be working together, their goals are different, but maybe tweaks the plot so that they are? It’d be a way to tie our two main overarching antagonists together, and also maybe it could even tie in that they’re siblings, though whether they know or not I’m not sure. Maybe Ceres knows but doesn’t tell him for whatever reason

Oh regarding the “no other antagonists” thing, I just remembered, I suppose we do have Great Magus as an antagonist. But also like, he’s more just a villain we need to stop and isn’t necessarily tied into Ceres’ plot. I suppose Reno’s story is also self contained, but I think I’m giving him a pass in my head since I’m convinced he’s supposed to be more significant than he was

[syluss-littlecrow]

Hi there, I dunno of you take requests but I'd like to request Sylus with MC who's love language is biting. And MC would also totally leave marks. And Sylus would think of his own payback for her everytime.

red marker

<sylus x fem!reader>

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, biting kink, backshots, pussy eating, breeding kink, size kink

w/c: 1.2K

a/n: thank you for my very first fic request here ❤️ sylus is definitely a biter (his little fangs!!) just wanna say I have plenty of skin for him to take a chomp off 😛

Sylus stares at the mirror, specifically staring down at the whole garden of love bites you’ve planted him with. He knows you’ve been biting him when he’s fucking you, but he doesn’t realise how much you’ve been taking bites out of him like he’s strawberry shortcake. 

Well, not that he minded. The thought of you thinking of marking him as yours secretly makes his heart flutter.

So he should return the favour, right?

Sylus takes in the scent of his shampoo on you, his eyes screwed shut as slowly breaths pull out of him. His palm is warm against the small of your back. You smell so fucking good just filled of him. It reminds him that you’re his. 

And even with his cock sheathed deep inside of you right now, he still thinks this isn’t enough. 

While swimming in his thoughts, he feels a sharp pain scatter on his shoulder blade. It barely lasts before it switches to pleasure when he realises that you’re biting onto his skin again. 

“Sweetie, aren’t you enjoying this too much?”, his low groans sending goosebumps across your skin. 

His fingers brush your hair away, his attention aimed on your neck, before he latches his lips, then his teeth, testing your pain threshold, ready to release at any sign of discomfort that you give. 

But a soft moan and your pussy tightening against his cock is what you return him. And Sylus can’t help but sink his teeth a little deeper while he forces you to fuck his cock. 

Your lewd cries grow louder whenever you lift yourself off his cock and impale yourself once more, and your lips have completely left his skin. 

Sylus presses his lips on your chest, cupping both tits with his large and slender fingers, pinching your nipples, all while grazing his teeth and licking your tits. It drives you nuts, and he figures that from the way cream is just coating his dick while he makes you ride him. 

He nibbles against the soft skin of your breast, then sucking the tender flesh, making sure he sees a soft bruise bloom on your chest. And he repeats it, over and over again, until you completely come undone on his dick, your pussy fluttering and leaking all over him, and your thighs shaking from being forced to cum all over his thick cock. 

He pauses to look up at you. His hand now is at the nape of your neck. 

“Did you cum all over my dick?” He asks, watching you nod your head shakily, the remnants of your orgasm still lingering in your spent pussy. 

Your mind is still hazy, but you still answer him, “yeah.”

“Good girl”, he chuckles. “But we’re not done yet.”

Sylus lifts you off him, and he’s already missing your warm tightness. Nonetheless, he has other plans. He can be patient. 

With much ease, consisting of a whole lot of using his Evol, you’re settled with his face between your legs. 

You’re about to protest about him not cumming yet, but when his tongue flicks against your wet clit, your mind shuts off, leaving behind trails of cries from overstimulation.

He switches between fucking his tongue into your pussy and then trailing his lips to the soft and thick flesh of your inner thighs—his actual target. 

You jolt at the sensation of his teeth grazing against your flesh again, a nice wave of slick slowly spilling out of your pathetic hole. 

Sylus makes sure he’s had his fill, and that’s filling your thighs with his bite marks and love bites until he’s satisfied. 

“Dirty kitten, getting off from being bitten, hmm?” The male in between your legs teases. He only receives a whine in response. 

Sylus quickly realises why you enjoy marking him so much—he wants to mark you all over as his too. He could get hooked onto this. 

He doesn’t forget to switch to the other side, sending your mind into an overstimulated frenzy when it’s as if he’s ready to have you for his next meal. 

Bruises and bite marks slowly fill up the empty spaces of your skin, with Sylus enjoying your sobs while your pussy only grows wetter from the sting. 

“Sylus, I’m sensitive-“, you whimper, your hands messing up his pale locks. Sylus casts you. an amused expression before he decides to have mercy on you, and pulls away. Sylus shifts to meet your eye level, pulling you into a dizzy kiss. 

His palms slide down your body, he leans into you, but he doesn’t press his weight onto you. 

“Turn around for me, kitten.” His whispers, and you do, soft gasps leaving your lips when you arch your back against him, feeling his thick cock rest against your creamy folds. 

“That’s it”, he encourages with praise, his hand adjusting his cock to line up right to your pulsing cunt before he pushes himself in, stuffing you full with a strained groan. “That’s a good fucking girl.”

He hears your quiet whimpers, and this time, he presses his body weight onto you. His fingers lift your chin up so you’re forced to face Sylus from the side. 

When he pulls out and thrusts into you from behind, it makes your thighs tremble from the sheer pleasure. 

The pace he’s setting is making you see stars, and when his lips are on your shoulder once more and he’s sinking his teeth into your skin, you’re losing it. 

You can barely keep your eyes open, your body completely submitting to the pleasure that Sylus is sinking you in. 

“Does this feel good, kitten?” He asks while another smack echoes in his room, his cock railed into you for the nth time.

Attempts to process his words are futile, especially not when he’s fucking your thoughts out of you. 

“So good. So fucking amazing”, you’re borderline sobbing, unintentionally pushing yourself back to make sure he’s making you full to the brim from every stroke 

While he’s drowning you in pleasure, Sylus makes sure he leaves a couple of marks down your neck to the best of his abilities. 

“I’m gonna cum”, your strained voice catches his attention, along with the way your pussy is squeezing Sylus’s dick. He groans at the sensation, his thrusts growing more heavy and desperate. Undoubtedly, you feel like fucking heaven on his cock. 

And when he feels you let go on his cock, his grip around on your neck tightens. He’s definitely not lasting any longer. Not when you’re luring him down with you like this. He wants so badly to ruin you, bring you down with him, mark every bare skin of yours possible.

So he does.

Sylus makes sure his final bite for the night blooms a gorgeous shade of wine on your bare skin, while his cum fills you up all the way, enjoying the way you’re shaking and whining. 

The corner of Sylus’s lips curl into a smirk while he watches you slowly drift into your slumber, your body inching close to him to catch his warmth. His gaze trails down to your chest, admiring his work of art—his bites imprinted across your neck, shoulders, chest, and especially around your nipples. He knows he’s ready for a scolding if you find out, but Sylus gets it now—there’s nothing more beautiful and satisfying as reminding you that you belong to him. 

[entirelysein-e]

『 Popping your cherry 』

☼ synopsis: Nanami was patient until you were ready, giving you a night full of pleasure and taking your virginity in a gentle way

☼ character: Nanami

☼ wc: 4.3k (oops)

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no dynamics, soft sex, oral (reader giving and receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy job, creampie, lots of pet names, consent checks, gentle aftercare, slight body worship

☼ notes: I promised @kentophilia to repost one of my fave pieces 🥹

Nanami has been nothing but kind and patient with you ever since you two met, sure he had his moments where he snapped at you due to stress at his work but you never took it to heart, almost feeling bad that you didn't quite know how to help him since he always brushed you off before he would say something he regrets and you gave him the desired space. He would always come back to you after a long and hot shower, muscles relaxed, his mood way better.

It wasn't until you happened to walk past his big bathroom when he took one of these showers when you found out what was really going on. Through the noise of the water hitting the tiled floor you could hear soft groans, followed by a few mumbled words… Was he masturbating?

Your hand gently knocked against the closed door before you could stop it from happening, a few grumbles to be heard from the inside of the room. “It's open!” He called out mere seconds later, his thick shaft still resting heavy in his palm, body hidden away behind the steamed glass of the shower. Swiftly you entered the bathroom and went straight for the shower, your clothes falling in a trail as you approached your lover. “May I join?” You called out slightly hesitant, your cheeks heating up at the thought of seeing him like this for the first time, but silence filled the room until he eventually spoke a small “Yes”, unable to resist you any longer. Nanami wanted to take things slow with you, knowing you're inexperienced so he waited for you to make a move, to give a sign that you want him as much as he wants you - he was craving you, the image of your body clad in the beautiful sundress you wore once stuck in his head and leaving little space for imagination what your body beneath might look like. The thought of you was his sweet salvation and his downfall late at night when he couldn't sleep or during the day when he couldn't focus. Only you.

After taking a deep and shaky breath you opened the milky glass door of the shower, steam clouding your vision for mere seconds before it evaporated enough to see your lover standing in front of you, not daring to look down where you saw his cock standing proudly in the corner of your eyes.

Noticing how you seemed to be frozen to the spot, Nanami tried to cover his manhood with his large hands, his eyes staying respectfully on your face, not once wandering. “Changed your mind?” He asked with a soft voice, not a hint of pressure behind his words, just curiosity, but you quickly shook your head no to let him know that you did not change your mind. With a careful step you joined the blonde man in the shower, hot water cascading down your figure yet his eyes remained trained on your face.

“Warm enough?” He asked caring, his voice soft as silk when he spoke which seemed to calm your breath a little. “It could be a bit warmer… if you don't mind,” you mumble, feeling a little awkward for intruding on him during such a private moment and now you just stand around in front of him, fidgeting nervously with your hands while he reached out to the faucet, brushing past the soft skin of your arm which you had draped over your chest in a rather shy manner. This simple touch alone left your skin to erupt with goosebumps and your eyes wandered over his strong arms, ending at his chest before you looked to the dark tiled wall once more, the rippling muscles beneath his skin embedded in your brain now. “You don't have to be so reserved. I'm your partner after all,” he pointed out lightly, not minding your eyes on him and as much as he wanted to just push you against the wall and take you, he remained patient and caring. He knew this was a rather big step for you to take already and he didn't want to scare you with anything, but you simply nodded, unsure arms wrapping around his torso in a gentle hug.

Nanami held back a chuckle upon this sweet and innocent gesture, holding you close to his body underneath the big rainshower, hot water cascading down both your bodies now. He would lie if he said that your soft skin and your perked nipples pressed against him in such an intimate way didn't affect him but his body betrayed him already - his erection twitching against your stomach and letting you feel just how badly he needed you. He cleared his throat and was ready to mumble out an apology for being inappropriate during such a delicate moment, but you looked up at him with a newfound hunger hidden behind your eyes.

Without hesitation the blonde man leaned down to capture your soft lips in a heated kiss, his tongue no stranger to your mouth as the kiss grew heated like oh so many times before. The butterflies were doing cartwheels in your stomach when his large hands reached down to hold your hips, pulling you impossibly close to his body in an effort to get you even closer until you had to break the kiss for air, his kisses traveling to your neck and it was evident that both of you yearned for more than just a makeout session.

By the time your hand stroked over his rock hard abs it was clear to him and he nodded almost breathless, craving the touch of your soft hand wrapped around his shaft for the first time and when you finally did he couldn't hold back a relieved groan. Nanami’s lips returned to yours once again as he guided your much smaller hand up and down the length of his cock, showing you just the way he liked it, but the way your hand barely managed to wrap around his girth left his head spinning, desperate to maintain focus when his hands crept over to your body once more. Calloused hands resting on your hip and just below your chest, your nodding of wordless consent was all he needed to let his hands travel further, one pulling you closer as the other started kneading your chest. “You're so beautiful, doll” he managed to rasp out as his kisses returned to your neck once more, his low moans and pants filling your senses as your hand worked on his length to help him get off.

Your soft whines didn't go unnoticed by him when he gently rolled your pebbled nipple between his thumb and index finger, his lips now trailing down to take care of your neglected breast, the warmth of his mouth engulfing one nipple while his fingers played with the other and you started to rub your thighs together in desperation. “Let me take care of you,” he mouthed against the soft flesh of your boobs and you could only nod, your hand working faster on him as his teeth tugged on your nipple ever so gently. He should have felt ashamed for being selfish, but your hands working on him got him off faster than his own ever could, thick ropes of cum painting your stomach and hands only to be washed away by the water right away, his head resting in the crook of your neck for a short moment, but before you knew it, his fingers were brushing against your thighs, begging for you to open up for him, which you did.

Skilled fingers caressed your inner thighs until he finally reached your core and just as he touched the part where you needed him most his sweet touch disappeared, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest which caught your attention. “We should take this to the bedroom, I want to take my time with you” he mumbled into your ear, his voice hoarse from how aroused he's gotten by the thought of finally claiming you as his entirely. You didn't need to answer him either, the way you turned off the water within a mere second was answer enough and he shook his head at how eager you seemed to be.

Leaving the warmth of the shower first, Nanami went to get a fresh towel for you, the soft fabric smelling like orchids and cotton, something you've started associating with him - with home. Just as he wrapped it around you, one hand stretched out to help you out of the shower and guided you to the bedroom you've been to a hundred times before. You should know the way by now but perhaps the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips, threatening to fall off, was all you could focus on. You were grateful for when he gently scooped you up into his strong arms, the hint of chest hair tickling your skin before you were placed onto the bed with utmost care.

Warm hands untucked the towel from around your body to reveal your beauty to him, your body entirely exposed but you didn't feel the need to cover up, his gaze letting the heat rush to your cheeks. He made you feel wanted, desired like you're the most beautiful woman on earth - and to him you were. You were perfect in every single way, almost feeling bad that he's about to ruin you like this but he craved to hear you whimper and whine for more, pawing at his sculpted body when he takes you past the edge, begging for him, pleading to fill you up - making you his entirely.

Of course he will take his sweet time until he is sure that you can handle him, the thought of hurting you made his heart clench and… he's been staring for too long, your sweet giggle filling his ears. You broke the shell of the stoic man, you could make him crawl to you if you'd only ask. He was fully devoted to you and your love, craving you, his body screaming for you in every way - it was almost scaring him but he was undoubtedly yours.

Kneeling down just in front of the bed he pulled your body closer, your beautiful legs now resting over his shoulders until your glistening folds were right in front of his face, his blonde hair tickling your thighs when he started pressing open mouthed kisses along your supple flesh. Minutes that felt like hours passed and you needed him, going crazy with how badly you yearned for his pleasure until your hands found their way into his silk like hair, pulling him towards your core with pleading eyes. “Patience, doll” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your folds and eliciting goosebumps over your body. You've never had someone this close to your heat but it was Nanami - you had no reason to grow shy nor embarrassed over your feelings for him, his rock hard cock letting you know that he was equally eager for this.

His amber eyes held nothing but warmth in them when he pressed a kiss to the mound of your core, looking for any sign of discomfort in yours. “Yellow if it's too much, red if you need me to stop” his words cut the silence in the room, accompanied by the thumping of your heart now picking up, almost sounding like a war drum. You nodded, unable to form words in the anticipation laced with nervousness but it was enough for the man between your legs, trusting you to let him know if you weren't ready to go on and you knew he would never pressure you into anything.

Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his kisses travel over your mound onto your folds until his thumbs ever so gently parted them, exposing your wetness to him. Unsure what to expect you gasped softly when the first kitten lick of his tongue brushed over your exposed clit, fingers digging into his scalp at the sensation. You could feel him smile at your reaction, his tongue traveling through your folds in a zigzag motion only to circle your bundle of nerves, alternating between gently flicking it with his tongue and sucking on it until you were helplessly bucking against his face, the pleasure washing over you which caught you entirely off guard with its intensity that you couldn't even warn your lover - but he knew.

Nanami's tongue kept playing with your clit until he heard the cry of his name leave your throat, begging him, for what you didn't even know yourself but the orgasm that followed was better than any you've given to yourself.

Allowing you to calm down, his tongue slowed down its assault on your sensitive nub only to travel further down, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. The slurping noises were lewd but you didn't want him to stop, neither when he pushed his tongue into your entrance, nor when his thumb came down to rub small circles at your overly sensitive clit. Nanami was entirely lost in your taste, eyes fluttering shut and breaking eye contact for a moment and it made you swoon, seeing how much he enjoyed this - how pleasing you was pleasing him. Your juices kept coating his tongue, followed by soft groans against your heat only for his tongue to leave your entrance and return to your clit once more.

“God. You're so addictive” he mumbled into you, the hand which rested on your thigh now joining his tongue, his index finger gently circling your entrance to gauge a reaction from you, seeing if you show any signs of it being too much, but you were babbling at this moment, cunt clenching around nothing when his tongue started his assault on your bundle of nerves once more. Nanami was certain that you needed this as much as he did, ever so gently pushing his finger into your untouched hole just to feel how tight you clench around him from the intrusion. Nodding you started grinding against his face and finger, needing him deeper, needing more and he heard you, briefly pulling his finger out of you before replacing it with his middle- and ringfinger. Your cunt sucked them in, almost struggling to accommodate his thick digits - the stretch much more than your fingers ever managed and when he curled them into your sweet spot it was over for you once again. A loud whine erupted from your throat as the squelching noises of your pussy grew in volume “Ke-Kento… too much!” You whimpered helplessly to get him to slow down but the second your sweet voice reached his ears a clear stream of liquid splashed out of you and against his tongue. His fingers slowed down the moment you begged for it but your orgasm already washed over you, legs shaking violently on his shoulders when he lapped up the juices that just squirted out of you.

Your ears were ringing as your lungs desperately tried to get air back into them, not even noticing how your lover was raking his hands over your thighs in a caring manner, absolutely mesmerized by you. He knew very well that your body was pushed past its boundaries so he wanted to stop or at least give you a break but you finally came back to your senses, your gaze still hungry despite looking utterly fucked out by just his tongue and fingers. “Don't stop… please,” you whimpered, begging him for more. Oh you little vixen, knowing exactly how to play his heartstrings - how is he supposed to deny you such a request when he could devour you whole?

A single kiss was pressed to your right thigh before he put it down onto the bed, shaking his head with a breathless chuckle when he caught a glimpse of your frown. “You're going to be the death of me, love” he mumbled amused, your left leg now lined up with his chest and shoulder as he stood between your thighs. The feeling of his cock resting just above your heat made you want to scream, the kiss that was placed upon your ankle provoked the smallest whimper to erupt out of you. “Please Kento,” You encouraged him, being entirely certain about going this step with him and he nodded, thumbs spreading your folds once more to get a view on how wet he got you, a small puddle forming underneath your ass on the bed and he deemed it good enough to drag his length through your cunt, slowly.

Nanami wouldn't last long if he made love to you now, far too riled up from all your moans, your taste and the way you squirted just from two of his fingers working their magic on you. “Ken… i need you” you begged, soft voice sounding strained now, almost desperate but he only picked up his pace slightly, his tip now nudging your clit just the right ways to have you mewling for him once again, hands digging into the bedsheets from how sensitive you were by now and it needed everything inside of him to not push his cock inside of you when he felt close.

You could feel the twitching of his shaft against your wet cunt, heavy balls clenching as he spilled his seed over your heat and lower stomach, his head thrown back while a guttural moan left his throat. You really were going to be the death of him - now he was certain. Seeing your little pussy covered in cum did things to him, eyes darkening when he dragged the head of his cock through your folds once again to collect your mixed juices, only stopping when he arrived at your entrance. One last time his eyes wandered up your body to rest on your half closed eyes, looking so tired but so happy at the same time.

Nanami needed to make sure that you still wanted this since you were almost at a point of no return. Sensing his hesitation you reached your palm out towards him, letting the man that stood tall like a tree between your legs lower himself so you may cup his cheek in the most loving way. “I want you, Kento Nanami. I've never been more sure of something in my life before,” you whispered softly, the room around you falling quiet once more, only your heartbeats to be heard, hammering against your chests and begging to be united.

Your gentle giant couldn't ask for more from you, hearing you say it loud and clear - you wanted him, wanted this. His soft lips captured yours in an enchanting kiss and taking your mind entirely off of the way the bulbous head of his dick slowly pushed past your tight entrance and molding you to be his.

A hiccup caused by your pain interrupted the sensual kiss but Nanami was quick to help you, halting his advances when his length was halfway inside of you, taking your virginity with utmost care. “Shh… you're doing so good for me, doll. Do you want me to stop?” His voice sounded strained, yet caring and it was clear that it took everything in him to not thrust the remaining half into you which was greatly appreciated. His forehead connected with yours after he pressed a kiss to yours, waiting for you to say something, anything. “G-green” your voice cut through the silence and allowed him to go on which he did, one of his hands still holding your leg to his chest while the other intertwined with yours, lips returning to yours in a desperate attempt to ground himself so he won't lose control. Hurting you was the last thing Nanami wanted to do after all.

His balls rested heavy against you when he finally bottomed out, his deep groan echoing off the walls when you raked your fingers over his well defined back, feeling every ripple of his muscles beneath his pale skin. “Taking me so- fuck… so well,” he moaned breathless when his hips started to move with small thrusts, his thumb wiping a stray tear from your cheek and you're not sure if it was from the pain or the fact that he made you feel so incredibly good. Weakly you nodded your head, drinking the praise in like it's the essence that's keeping you alive. “My good girl,” he continued, hips meeting yours with every word and he felt like his heart would beat out of his chest at any moment, seeing your jaw slowly going slack and your moans growing in volume to create this lewd image of his usually so sweet love.

Nanami had to halt, his chest rising and sinking rapidly from the way you manage to steal his breath, your wet cunt gripping him like a vice and trying to milk him from all he's worth and he wanted to just fuck you senseless right then and there, hips pistonning into you like his life depended on it… but he didn't - he couldn't. Not this time at least. Instead his hips moved in slow but deep, rhythmic thrusts which let him feel every ridge inside your heat and only adding to his bottomless hunger for you. You were moaning beneath him, angelic sounds to his ears but when he straightened up so he was no longer bending over you on the bed you suddenly cried out his name in pleasure, soft moans turning desperate for more.

The new angle made you feel even fuller than before, his tip angled perfectly to hit your sweet spot with every gentle thrust until your glossy eyes landed on his almost closed ones, nodding over and over “I know you're close, princess. Just let go,” he encouraged you, his thrusts picking up their pace to push against your sweet spot repeatedly until your toes curled and your back arched so perfectly off the mattress. His thumb rubbed tight circles onto your sensitive clit to drag out this earth shattering orgasm as long as possible - you deserved a first time to remember fondly after all but he just doesn't stop. Your breathless whines turned into cries for him, for more, for him to not stop. You were high on this feeling he gave to you, his hips rutting into you aimlessly at this point and his head was thrown back as his moans mixed with yours. “One more, just- fuck! Just one more,” he groaned with a rough voice, needing to feel you clench around him in bliss again before he allowed himself to follow you.

When your pussy clenched around him as another orgasm rippled through your beautiful body, he finally understood why they call it a little death. His hips thrusted into you a final time, burying himself as deep as he physically could while his dick twitched wildly inside of you and you could feel the way his balls contracted, slowly filling you up with his release.

Nanami's vision went white for a moment, pure bliss taking over and his body feeling like he was floating on cloud nine - this is why they call it a little death. You were going to be his own piece of heaven, your core gripping his cock so tightly he felt like it was hard to breathe but at the same time you were the oxygen his lungs needed.

His barely there thrusts finally came to a stop and he lifted your leg off his chest and shoulder before lifting your body against his chest so you could be as close as possible without having to slip out. The way he fell onto the bed with you was almost clumsy but he didn't want to let go of you, not even for a fraction of a second.

His big hand came up to wipe a strand of hair behind your ear, a tired smile on his lips “Are you okay, doll?” he asks with his voice like silk, needing to know if you're fine and you nodded tired, laying on top of him now with your bodies still connected. Even with his own seed running out of you and onto his body and the bed beneath he made no effort to move, the moment too perfect. Your body was draped over his, your limbs ever so tired as his hands ran up and down your back which was sticky from the sweat but he didn't mind it for one second. This moment dragged on for a while, gentle touches and even gentler kisses shared between lovers until your breath started to even out. In your half awake state you barely noticed how he carefully picked up your tired body to carry you into the room where it all began, only registering it when the sound of the water running and the scent of lavender filled your exhausted senses. “You can just rest, I'll clean you up” he whispered and lowered you into the warm water of the bathtub, following you mere seconds after where he let you rest against his chest again. You let your eyes remain closed when he picked up the softest washcloth, slowly dragging it over your arms, your torso, your legs and lastly over your sore pussy, still leaking his cum. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only tender care as he made sure to clean your body from any filth so you may rest and let him take care of you so you could wake in the bed to the smell of breakfast in the morning…

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which you run into rafe’s arms whenever there’s trouble. not that he minds, of course.

being rafe’s girlfriend meant relying on him for everything. it made him feel wanted, and made you feel safe. so although it went against all your morals as a woman, it just felt right crawling into a cute boy’s muscular arms whenever you needed comfort or help. whether someone made your drink wrong, or a boy was hitting on you, or anything else really, rafe was there to help you out. you’d just grab his hand or pull him aside, and he’d mutter an “i gotcha, kid,” before going to handle it.

he’d assumed you’d be okay going to a friends birthday party. he wasn’t invited, it was a ‘no boys allowed’ kind of party. just gossiping pillow fights and giggles. and these were your friends, if you had any issues you’d sort them out yourself. but, spoiler alert — he was wrong.

rafe was at tannyhill, sitting on the couch on the balcony as he replied to his fathers email about the dumb cross that rafe wanted to sell. it was probably around two hours ago when you left, in your cute dress that he bought you, giving him a big kiss before leaving with a birthday gift in hand. the sun was setting, it wasn’t even that late. so he certainly wasn’t expecting a security alert that the front door was opening, nor your pouty face appearing at the balcony door as you opened it slowly.

your lips were red, matching the unnatural hue on your cheeks. little white lines stained from your eye down to your jaw. your eyelashes were droopy and had little wet drops on them. which leaves him to one conclusion; you were crying.

“..shit,” he mutters under his breath, drawling out the word with parted lips and sighing as you plop yourself down beside him. “what happened, baby?” an arm instantly wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. you instantly cuddle into him, like you always do. right back in your lover’s arms.

“..anna,” you sniffle, voice soft and shaky. “i don’t get it. i don’t get why she’s so nice to everyone except for me. hates me for no reason, rafe, she hates me—“ a quick interruption on his part, quickly shutting you up because you’re not answering the question properly.

he finds it hard to believe that anyone could hate his girl. “what did she do?” he asks, making sure you’re looking him in the eyes so you really understand what he’s asking for. specifics.

“she’s just so rude. said my highlights were way too grown out, said my dress did nothing for my figure and washed out my tan, said that my nail polish was chipping..” you trail off and sniffle. “anything to prove im not perfect, rafe. like duh, i know im not, but she likes to point it out. then she always giggles like it’s just a silly joke,”

“..uh huh,” he hums along. “‘n you know thats not true, right?” he checks, as if it’s obvious.

“well it is true. haven’t gotten my hair done in months, and my nails are chipping, so..”

he sighs. “not that part, kid. c’mon,”

“…that was the only part, rafe,”

“talking about the ‘perfect’ part,” he clarifies. “you know you’re perfect, c’mon, don’t start saying you aren’t,”

“no one’s perfect,” you counter.

“i beg to differ,” he shrugs. “now c’mon, whaddya want me to do about this bitch, huh?” he changes the topic before you argue and he has to assure you more.

“nothing, rafe,”

“nothing?”

“mhm.”

he huffs and leans back on the couch. he knows you. you don’t want him to do nothing about this. “why the hell are you here then, if you don’t want me to do anything?”

“to see my handsome boyfriend ‘n tell him what happened,”

“..right,” he says after a moment. “sure thing, kid. i won’t do anything. whatever you want,” you can tell he’s lying through his teeth.

you smile softly at his agreeable attitude, his voice and touch alone comforting you more than anyone else could. so you cuddle into him more, doe eyes looking out at the sunset overlooking tannyhill, at the american flag waving in the humid wind. you’re perfectly content letting him dry the leftover tears and spending the night with him instead of your little friends.

but you and him both know he’s gonna be making an angry phone call to a certain girl after you leave.

[gojoux]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 “𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓” 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌

Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.

◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

“Say no more.” He'd grab your face in an instant and press his lips against yours. He would immediately get touchy all over your body, and for not even a few seconds, he's already slipping his tongue in, savoring your taste with hunger. He'd pull away for a moment before devouring your lips with his own, your mouth would be invaded by his tongue once more before pressing you against the nearby wall.

◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

“You want to make out? Alright, love. Let's go somewhere private, we can make out there as much as you want.” He'd place his hands on your wrist and lead you toward the bedroom. His lips would immediately find yours, soft but deep kisses at first before it gets heated. He doesn't mind if you want to be on the top or him on the top. Rest assured, he's not giving your lips a break either way. “Now I know what you need to do to convince me.”

◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

His body would shiver with excitement as he looks down at you with a hungry look. “Come here,” he reaches for you and grabs your body, “You want to make out, do you now? My, my, are you in the mood for me.” He tilts your head with his finger and starts trailing kisses on your neck, nibbling your skin with his teeth, licking and sucking, and doing whatever he wants until he makes sure it leaves a lot of his marks. His mind is filled with dirty thoughts, “I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.”

◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“Right here? Right now?” Nanami's eyebrows would elevate at this request. “I should have expected it from you.” He sighs and loosens his tie before leaning back on his chair saying, “I can spare some time for you, love,” as he pats his lap, gesturing you to sit with him. “Let's make it a good one.” He'll place a hand on your cheek and the other on your waist as he kisses you slowly, with no rush, he likes to take his time savoring your lips.

◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

He would look at you confused, “What's that?” He had no clue what making out is and he's not familiar with the term. Once you explain it to him, he'll nod and hold your waist, initiating the kiss first. “Like this?” He'll kiss you more. “I think I can get used to this.” His kisses slowly become deeper, letting out a few hums of satisfaction here and then. His touches would become bolder as well once you give him the cue. He's never done something like this but he seems to enjoy it with you.

◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

He'd raise a brow after hearing your request out of nowhere. “So you want to make out, huh? Are you feeling needy?” He'll tease you for it. “Now come here, I'll show you just how good I can be with my lips," he'd speak to you in a seductive tone while looking at you with a sly smile on his face. He'll kiss you all over your face until it's damp from both of your wet lips after the kiss while his hands eagerly caressing and groping your body. He won't stop even until you're breathless.

◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

He'd turn a bit red at your sudden question. He is a little surprised with your forwardness but he's not against it. “What did you say? Do you want to make out with me?” He doesn't mind if you kiss him. In fact, he'd like it if you did because he's been wanting to do that with you for some time already. Megumi starts off shy with a few pecks, focusing on your lips and what gesture you like. It's surprisingly hard for him to stop kissing you once he's warmed up.

◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

“Eh? With me?” He points at himself. You'd smack his arm which makes him let out a short playful laugh, “Okay, okay, let's do it.” He'd kiss you eagerly, he really wanted to experience kissing someone ever since he was single, and now that got the chance to make out with you is more than a dream come true. He'll circle an arm over your shoulder and the other around your waist, pressing your body closer to him as he focuses on kissing you.

◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀

His face would turn red and his cheeks would be flushed. He'd look at you with surprised eyes and then he'd nod slowly. “O-of course, let's make out.” He'd say your name in such a soft way, the most romantic tone he's ever spoken to you with. After a few seconds of looking deeply into your eyes, he would lean closer and test the water with a few soft pecks before the kiss got deeper. He doesn't really know where to place his hand so he just holds your waist as he pulls you closer.

[augustinewrites]

dress + nanami

“i bought you something.”

you frown slightly, eyeing the sleek box that nanami places on the bed.

“but i didn’t get you anything…”

he simply smiles, gently taking your hand and smoothing his thumb over the gold band adorning your ring finger. “allowing me to marry you this afternoon was the greatest gift you could ever give me.”

memories of your little ceremony still linger in the forefront of your mind. you’d married him atop a small rooftop garden filled with this season’s blooms, surrounded by your closest friends and family. you’d never been an extremely sentimental person, but the way he’d gazed at you and whispered vows meant for your ears and yours alone…you’d hold that close to your heart forever.

“no take backs, by the way,” you say when you feel tears prick at the back of your eyes once more. “you’re stuck with me, even though i snore.” 

“your snores are adorable. like a bunny holding a chainsaw.”

“hey!” you laugh, letting him wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. 

“just let your husband spoil you, hm?”

nanami loves to spoil you. he’s always had such lovely taste, picking soft, pretty things that catch his eye in shop windows— a pair of leather gloves, a stylish sweater, a diamond bracelet. each gift is thoughtful, always complimenting you perfectly,

you lift the lid of the box, peeling back layers of tissue paper to reveal a delicate, silky white dress.

“kento…” you breathe, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your skin. gingerly, you lift the feather-light dress by dainty straps, taking in the cowl neck and tasteful high slit. 

simple, yet elegant, like him. 

“for you to wear to the reception,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. “do you like it?”

“i love it,” you tell him truthfully, turning to look at him. “help me put it on?” 

your husband couldn’t look more pleased, especially when deft fingers undo the back of your bespoke wedding gown and he sees what you’d snuck on underneath.

but nanami is nothing if not efficient, clearing his throat before helping you step out of your current dress and into your new one, the material gliding against your skin like butter.

“you’re a vision,” he whispers, brushing another kiss to the back of your neck. with heat in your cheeks, you turn in his embrace, bringing your lips up to his. 

the rest of the world begins to melt away, as it often does when you’re with him. but it’s different now. it’s different because in the eyes of the law, you’ve chosen him and he’s chosen you. 

so you share eager kisses in the warm lamplight of the hotel room, his hands gentle as they slide over the smooth material of your dress. 

and eventually, up the slit resting atop your thigh. his warm hands rest on your bare skin, setting off sparks of pleasure up your spine.

“we shouldn’t,” you breathe as he plants open mouthed kisses on the hollow of your throat. “we need to check on our guests— you know satoru gets weepy when he’s had more than one drink.” 

nanami pulls back to look at you, pupils blown with desire as he takes in your smeared lipstick and wide-eyed stare.

he responds by pulling you close with his grip on your hips, a groan slipping past your lips as he does so. 

“they can wait,” he tells you, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the edge of the bed. “i’ve waited long enough to be alone with my wife.”

he’s waited for this moment even when he hadn’t realized he’d wanted this, wanted you. he’s wanted it since the days you’d shared at jujutsu tech, when he’d been a besotted schoolboy, pining after his classmate. 

nanami’s always been a patient man—

he yanks the skirt of your new dress up around your hips and kisses a trail down your chest.

— except when he’s not.

[martiniluvr]

I just cannot get over the thought of Jason Todd cooing while you take his massive cock, talking you through the pain of stretching you out on it the first time, and giggling at each other from euphoria because of just how much love there is between you two AHHHH 😭

this ask is so good I had to let it marinate in my mind…anon take these flowers I beg 💐

18+ minors dni

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

“jay…” you say apprehensively, trailing off as you bite your lip. your eyes are fixed on jason todd’s huge body hovering above you, and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. you look down anxiously at his hard cock resting right below your bellybutton and smearing your skin with precum, and instantly avert your gaze. fuck, that’s big.

“I don’t—um…I don’t think it’s…” you trail off, your cheeks burning. despite your nerves, you feel your arousal drooling out of you. he smiles and shakes his head lightly, reaching down to run his fingers over your entrance.

“don’t worry ‘bout that,” he coos, collecting your wetness on his fingertips as you shudder. “look at me, ma.” you tear yourself away from the sight of his length, meeting his stare. “that’s right. just keep lookin’ at me. you’re gonna be fine.”

his hand comes down to pump his cock, spreading your slick onto his shaft as he aligns himself between your legs. after a pause, he sinks the tip in, and you suck in a sharp breath at the stinging in your walls as he penetrates you. he pauses halfway to allow you to adjust to his girth, his brows furrowing at your tightness. shit, you feel good around him. you let out a whine at the unfamiliar feeling of his size, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“fuck…you’re doin’ good, ma,” he says, the muscles between his shoulder blades tensing. “c’mon, princess, just relax for me. worst part’s almost over, hmm? just a little more.” his words are strained with need; he’s holding himself back from fucking you like he wants to, the way a pretty cunt like yours deserves to be used. soon, he tells himself. soon.

“ready?” he asks, his green eyes searching yours. you nod anxiously, and he bottoms out inside you with a groan. you gasp at the flash of pain as he stretches you, right as jason’s hand comes up to caress your cheek. he looks down at your expression, with your eyes screwed shut and your lower lip trapped between your teeth, and lets out a soft laugh. god, you’re pretty.

“hey, eyes on me, ma,” he rasps gently. you pry your eyelids open to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “that’s right, baby. fuck—doin’ so good.” he rocks his hips gently, and you let out a quiet moan despite the ache. “so fuckin’ good for me.” he thrusts again, a little deeper this time, and you notice the stinging is starting to subside, pleasure gradually taking its place. you moan again, louder this time.

“startin’ to feel it, huh, baby?” he murmurs, his eyes glancing down at your stretched pussy taking him in. heat pools in your chest as you hum in agreement, a sheepish giggle escaping you when jason’s eyes lock back onto yours. he chuckles in return, before planting a longing kiss on your lips as his hips continue to rock slowly.

you whine into him, wrapping your legs around his waist to signal that you’re ready for more; he smiles against your lips as his arm snakes around your back, locking your body against his. oh, you poor thing. you have no idea what you’re in for.