#and now I don’t want to write it because I don’t want his response

[devildomwriter]

They Discover You Doodling Them in Your Notebook | Others x Reader

Solomon

Solomon had called you in for another lesson in potions, one he had invented himself by mistake. At first, you were really interested and participated but now you were waiting for the mixture to settle so he was organizing his things in the meantime.

As you waited you helped yourself to some of Luke’s cookies but then he, Simeon, and Raphael turned in for the night and it was just you and your D.D.D. which was nearly dead. To pass the time left you took out your sketchbook intending to study but you were much too tired for that and your pencil had a mind of its own.

You had no intentions to draw Solomon but your eyes followed him as he walked around the room, humming an unknown archaic song. He looked as innocently cheery as ever despite being anything but.

You blushed as you studied the way his hair fell across his face, the way his gray eyes darted back and forth as he collected things with careful precision.

Then without meaning to, your eyes met and you quickly looked away pretending it didn’t happen. This was the wrong move as it made him more suspicious. He walked over with a smile hoping you were studying as you’d intended.

“My, look how studious my apprentice is being!” He beamed and before you could protest he quickly levitated the notebook in front of him as you tried to hide your blush.

“Oh my. Studying me are we? Well, I certainly don’t mind but our potion is ready now. However, I could set aside some time later tonight if you’d like?”

“For me to draw you?”

“Hm…sure if that’s what you’re really interested in. But I get the feeling that’s not what you were drawing me, is it?”

Spot on as always, you snatched your notebook back and hid your red face as he laughed and teased you further.

It was going to be a long night no matter what you decided.

Simeon

You sat up against the headboard on Simeon’s bed, writing in your notebook as he sat at his screen typing away as ideas for his novel flooded his brain.

You didn’t understand how he broke free from his writer’s block so easily. Maybe it was some divine power? Most writers procrastinated for a living, while he wrote nearly every day for millennia.

You took a sip of your drink and sat it down on his nightstand. You’d come over to spend time with him doing nothing in particular. Being in each other’s presence was enough to be content and it was significantly calmer here than back at the House of Lamentation.

He strongly encouraged you to study or take a nap, whatever you felt like but trying to study was hard to begin with, but impossible when staring at his exposed back as he sat across from the bed. You had no idea what angel garments were so open but you weren’t complaining.

You decided you’d sketch him while you could, it gave you great practice at drawing backs, something you rarely considered doodling.

As you sat there in a daze you stared at his shoulder blades, the way he hunched over the keyboard and occasionally sat back to stretch and avoid poor posture. You desperately wanted to run your hand across his soft skin and Simeon must’ve felt your eyes in him because he sat up and turned around to see you sketching away.

He was by your side by the time you saw him and you let out a small “eep” that made him laugh. He thought you were truly adorable.

“May I see?” He asked and you blushed but allowed him since he’d been so polite.

He looked at the drawing and blushed, “My, these are excellent, ___.” He praised. “You’ve spent so long watching me type away, it’s your turn now. Allow me to pose for you?”

Luke

You were at Purgatory Hall, via Luke’s invitation to help him with a new recipe. Luke had it down so you mostly watched and agreed with the comments he made about the process and taste.

Now it was in the oven and you had nothing but time. Luke decided it would be a good idea to study, and not wanting to look less responsible than the child, you took out your notebook too.

You watched Luke kick his legs and stick out his tongue as he thought about what he was writing. It was so cute you had to capture it and taking out your D.D.D. would just alert him so you quickly got to sketching.

You propped your notebook up a bit so he couldn’t see it from where he was.

He sighed exasperatedly and frowned at his assignment. “Hey, ___?” He asked.

“Yeah?” You responded without looking away from your drawing.

“I don’t really get this part, can you help me?” You set your pencil down and looked at the question.

“Oh heck no,” you said bluntly.

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I have no idea what that is at all, ask Solomon.”

“I would but he’s at the Demon Lord’s Castle today.”

“Oh yeah…”

“Well, if you don’t know anything about it what have you been working on?”

“Oof, caught red-handed. I was just drawing you,” you admitted and spun your notebook around to show him.

His eyes lit up and he smiled, “WOW, ___! This is really good!” He paused for a minute and pointed at one of the drawings.

“Why do I have cat ears?”

“Actually, those are Chihuahua ears.”

“___!”

Raphael

You watched Raphael hum as he sorted through the rows of fabrics trying to find the right one for his new embroidery project.

He’d asked you to tag along and you excitedly agreed as he wasn’t much of a social butterfly and you loved getting a chance to hand around him more. You didn’t expect, however, that finding a single piece of fabric for his new pillow was going to take over an hour.

Raphael was very particular so you should’ve expected this, maybe some part of you had as you’d brought along your notebook.

The notebook wasn’t for school or anything in particular, just something to jot down notes or ideas as they came to you. Right now all that came to you was the strong urge to sketch Raphael’s serious gaze as he sifted through hundreds of sheets of fabric.

Occasionally he’d show one to you with a sweet smile and ask for your opinion, but in the end, he chose whatever felt right.

Each time you looked up from your drawing he was in much the same position but slightly farther down the aisle until you looked up to see he wasn’t there.

You set your notebook down on the chair and stood up quickly looking for him.

“Raphael?” You called.

“What is this your drawing?” You heard directly behind you and jumped.

Raphael seemed concerned as you caught the breath he’d scared out of you. You laughed it off and sighed.

“You’re really so quiet,” you huffed.

“No…I just don’t think you were paying attention.” He commented.

He picked your notebook up to see the drawings of him across the page.

It was difficult to tell how he felt as he wasn’t very expressive until a sweet smile crossed his face and his eyes seemed to sparkle just a bit.

He handed the notebook back to you, “You have talent.” He complimented and you blushed.

“Do you think I could draw you with your spear sometime?”

He tilted his head, “what for?”

“Art?”

“Hmm…” He thought about it before smiling “Sure.”

Thirteen

Thirteen had invited you to her home to help her build her latest invention. You were excited to get in on it but she was so absorbed you were mostly left to handing her tools and trying to remember what she named them. So instead of being useless, you decided to take notes as she explained some of it to you.

Eventually, you became so lost that you just gave up and started drawing it instead and when you ran out of tools to draw you started sketching Thirteen.

It was simple at first, just brief pencil strokes in a sloppy outline but then you began to focus on her. The way her hair fell into her face as she leaned in closer, the spark in her eyes and brilliant smile as she discovered something new, the red tint on her cheeks when she caught you staring at her.

“Hey? What are you doing?” She asked and stood up walking over to you.

Too embarrassed to admit you weren’t doing what she’d asked and had been sketching her instead you hid the notebook in your backpack.

“What? You’re really not gonna show me?” She said a little surprised as you were usually very open with her.

“I…got distracted.” You admitted and she shook her head.

“Really? I was hoping you’d keep instructions for me, I plan to mass-produce these. That way if that damn sorcerer brings down one, he’ll have hundreds more to watch out for!” She began laughing manically to herself and you laughed at her antics and nodded.

You reacted for your notebook again and she quickly snatched it from you, “It’s mine now!”

“Thirteen?” You poured and she laughed and flipped through your notebook. She found the pages you’s written in and nodded approvingly until she got to her sketches and her face turned a shade of pink darker than her hair.

“Wh-what are these?”

“…I got distracted.”

She blushed again and handed the notebook back to you. “Fine, I’ll allow it,” she huffed and got back to work occasionally fixing her hair now that she knew you had your eyes on her.

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles has called you into the RAD Newspaper’s office that morning to assist him with an interview. Lucifigus, a friend of Asmodeus’s was going to be hosting a fashion week show in the greenhouse at RAD. Mephistopheles wanted your assistance taking down notes as he interviewed to make sure things flowed smoothly.

Mephistop was already taking diligent notes as was his habit so at some point you began lazily jotting down two words here and there in between doodling. Lucifugus was a beautiful demon but you couldn’t help but be drawn to Mephistopheles and his enthusiastic but serious expression as he conducted the interview.

After what felt like an hour Mephistopheles stood up and extended his hand to Lucifigus to shake so you quickly got to your feet to do the same.

“Thank you for your time,” you mimicked Mephistopheles and Lucifigus grinned and thanked you both before leaving with a flirtatious wave.

“Well, I’d say that went very well,” Mephistopheles grinned and turned to you, holding up his notebook. “Now then, let’s compare notes.”

Your face turned a little pink and he noticed, “No need to be flustered. I’ve been doing this far longer than you so you needn’t worry about matching my level of skill.”

He reached for your notebook but you closed it abruptly. He gave you a slightly exasperated look. “___… you were taking notes, right…like I asked?”

“Uh…um…at first.”

He sighed, “At first?” He decided to investigate for himself and grabbed your notebook, flipping through it until he found what you’d been doing and his cheeks flushed a color darker than his hair.

“I-I see…” he stuttered, more flustered than you. “W-well, I suppose it’s only natural to document the most interesting person in the room.” He boasted but inside he was a melting mess. ‘How cute can this human be?’

Barbatos

You had your notebook out, ready to write down recipes for Barbatos as he experimented with improving one of Diavolo’s favorite meals. You volunteered to help so you could gain some cooking experience, something you sorely lacked.

Barbatos hummed and his tail flicked back and forth as he concentrated. Every so often he looked your way to see what you were doing and was pleased to see you happily jotting down notes in your book. After a few minutes, he noticed something strange. He’d tell you to write something down and you’d flip back a few pages to jot it down.

He frowned and quickly deduced that you were doing something other than observing his cooking instructions but decided to let you do as you pleased since he worried he’d bore you with the painfully long waiting time in between cooking steps.

You watched Barbatos with a small smile as you gently sketched his features in your notepad. You were worried he’d notice and want a look at what you were doing. That would be humiliating for you since you were far from being a good realism artist—you preferred chibi sketches, something Barbatos found odd when Leviathan did it.

Your eyes briefly met his and you blushed and watched him set a timer for the sweets before turning back to you.

“May I see what you’ve written so far?” He asked with a warm smile and you nodded and quickly flipped to the correct page.

He reached out his hand to take the book but you kept a firm grip on it, tipping him off further, so he hid a chuckle and simply observed your notes instead.

“Ah, good. But you’ll need to fix this,” he hummed and took out a pen from his apron. “May I?” He asked and you nodded handing the notebook over so he could correct your notes.

He leaned over the counter as he wrote down what he needed and you froze as you saw him quickly flip to your sketch page.

He met your eyes as he did so, a mischievous smile across his face as you quickly got up to explain.

“Um—I was just—“

Barbatos looked down at the sketches of himself and his heart skipped. He covered his mouth to hide his pleasure with what he saw, but when he saw your panicked expression he was quick to praise you.

“These are incredible, ___, why don’t I make you some tea while you continue?”

Diavolo

Diavolo sat across from you at the RAD lunch table. He’d invited you to his private booth that day since it was hard to find time in his schedule to be with you.

He grinned as he watched you studiously write in your school notebooks for what he assumed was your previous Devildom Math course, a subject he knew you struggled with.

He sipped on his tea from Barbatos who took the cup back to refill it.

“Your tea is getting cold,” Diavolo reminded you and you were brought back to reality and quickly closed your sketchbook with a small blush, worried he’d bit iced what you were doing.

Diavolo hadn’t noticed, but a certain butler did and he smiled at you knowingly and excused himself to replenish your snacks.

“I’m glad to see you working so hard here, I know it hasn’t been easy adjusting,” Diavolo complimented and you almost felt a little guilty that you weren’t studying at all.

You’d been working on your art style lately, ignoring math for as long as you could, and the current subject of your artistic inspiration was the beautiful demon prince in front of you.

“It’s more like adjusting to going back to school, than anything,” you admitted and he nodded.

“I see. Another reason you should be proud of yourself, as I am,” he grinned and reached out his hand.

You gave him a quizzical look so he laughed and asked for your notes, “May I see what you are studying? I might be able to help?”

You were caught now. Your study books were shoved in your backpack on the ground.

“Umm, actually I was just sketching…” you admitted and he tilted his head, a curious gleam in his eyes.

“Oh! I’d love to see your art if you’ll let me.” He asked excitedly so you nodded and flipped to the beginning of your sketchbook where you had normal sketches of the Devildom.

It pleased Diavolo to see you drawing his realm and the creatures in it but then he flipped a little too far into the notebook and you quickly stood up to take it back but it was too late.

“Oh, what’s this?” He asked as he saw page after page of himself from all different angles.

“I uh…” you were lost for words and defeatedly covered your blush, hiding your face in your hands.

He laughed at your reaction and handed your notebook back, “I’m sorry, did you not want me to see these?”

He gave you your sketch pad back and you blushed and hid it in your bag finally taking a sip of your drink instead. It was quiet for a moment before Diavolo cleared his throat and looked at you with a faint blush in his cheeks.

“I’d love it if you could do my portrait sometime. Nothing would make me happier than to have your art in the walls of my castle where I can see it every day.”

Brothers

[luvyeni]

ONE MORE BEFORE YOU GO ♱. ── ( 엔하이픈 )

trying to get them to stay and go another round …

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 엔하이픈 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. allusions to sex , cursing word count. 0.8k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i was so confused on how to write this , idky

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 정원 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

“that pouty face isn’t gonna work this time.” he said looking down at your pouty face , you were wrapped up in nothing but a sheet. “it worked last time.” you purred , purposely letting the blanket fall. “fuck , you’re really pushing your luck.” he looked at the time — he was gonna be only 5 minutes late if he left right now. “why worry about the time when you can just stay here.” he chuckled. “stay here , and what fuck you all day?” you shrug, you perfect mounds on display. “doesn’t seem like a bad idea to me.”

“you’re insatiable.” he said ; the entire time he’s slowly losing jus mind. “you know you want to.” you said , he checked the time once more — he’ll be 10 minutes late if he leaves now… but he won’t be late at all if he just doesn’t go , plus he’ll be able to feel you all over again. “i promise this is the last time this will ever happen.” he said kissing your lips. “let’s see how wet you are for me.”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 희승 : heeseung ﹚ .ᐟ

hearing you whine for the 10th time as he put his clothes on makes him laugh. “glad to know my suffering brings you happiness and entertainment.” you roll around in the bed , barely clothed , normal that would be enough for heeseung; but he was already 30 minutes late to practice. “im laughing because you’re just too cute baby , whine and throwing a tantrum because i wont fuck you again , even though i just made you cum three times.”

“but im still horny.” you said sitting up on your knees. “please , just once more.” you pouted. “and then you’re free to go.” you said , pulling at his belt loop. “you’re crazy.” he said , his lips barely brushing against yours. “for you yes.” he giggled , time long forgotten. “you what baby fuck it , lay back.” he said , hovering above you. “i can’t leave my girl all needy and this wet for me can i , what kinda boyfriend would i be?”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 제이 : jay ﹚ .ᐟ

sighing as you rub his shoulders; he knows what you’re trying to do. “what if you’re just 20 minutes late?” you purr into his ear. “what can it hurt?” you kissed behind his ear — you were gonna kill him in the best possible way. “because 20 minutes will turn into a hour messing around with you princess , the boys are already blowing my phone like crazy and — fuck.” he threw his head back as you kissed his neck some more. “please.” your hands working on his chest. “you know you want to.”

he couldn’t hold back anymore; turning around , hovering above you. “you’re so spoiled baby.” he said , wrapping your legs around his waist. “it’s all your fault.” you bit back playfully. “yeah?” he smirked , bring his thumb to your bottom lip. “let me take full responsibility then , fuck you the way you should be.”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 제이크 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

he literally has to fight himself internally to get out of the bed and leave you every morning even when you don’t have mind blowing morning sex , but it’s 100x times harder leaving out the door when you’re still begging for another round. “baby.” he whined. “i can’t i'm already late.” keep in mind he’s still hard himself and your begging isn’t doing him any good. “please jake , i need you so much.” he really needs to leave , his phone has already been blowing up.

he falls for it everytime ; the ole ‘just a kiss before you go.’ bending down to kiss you ; only for him to deepen the kiss , he can’t help it , he just loves kissing you ; it gets him all worked up. “fuck you do this all the time.” he moaned against your neck. “jake please fuck me.” you moaned… safe to say jake showed up to practice an hour late that day.

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 성훈 : sunghoon ﹚ .ᐟ

his shirt isn’t even buttoned up; as he rushes to put his pants and shoes on. “shit im so fucking late right now.” you on the other hand; you’re up and on one already. “see so it doesn’t matter; you’re already late.” you said , he stared at you , you were the reason he was late now , you looked so good in the morning he couldn’t help himself. “we’ve been at it since early this morning , im not sure how im gonna stay awake during practice.” he said. “how are you still so fucking needy.”

“because you look good.” you smiled with a look anything but innocent. “how about you stay home then?” he scoffed. “of course you’d say that.” he said , yet he’s the one kicking his shoes off , crawling back in bed. “are you gonna call the guys and tell them you were being such a needy slut for me today that’s why i didn’t show up?” you nodded. “if you stay in this bed and fuck me all day then i’ll tell them anything.” knowing sunghoon he’s gonna definitely hold you to it.

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 선우 : sunoo ﹚ .ᐟ

“sorry my love.” he said quickly trying to get ready while you persuade him to stay behind. “but i can’t stay any longer.” you looked so good laying in bed , but sunoo was already so late. “why.” you pouted. “i miss you already.” you said. “what about one more round , then i guess you can go and leave me here to die.” he shook his head at how dramatic you were being , but alas he couldn’t tell you no , even if jungwon was currently blowing his phone up.

“just one more okay.” he crawled back into bed with you. “then i really have to go my love.” he kissed both sides of your cheeks. “so pretty.” he whispered , grinding his lower region against yours. “how can i ever say no to you.”

©️LUVYENI

[duckybarnes1917]

Bad Idea, Right?

18+ Only

Ex-boyfriend! Gojo x Reader

Summary: You left Gojo Satoru for a reason. He wasn't reliable. He wasn't serious about building a future together. He was always gone. But one thing he was...amazing in bed. Much better than your new husband. Could anyone really blame you for falling back into his bed just one more time?

Warnings: The only actual trigger warning is this fic contains cheating. Reader is cheating on her husband with Gojo. It's angsty. Other than that...it's smut...be pleasantly surprised 😘

AN: This is my first time writing in the JJK fandom! I just finished season 1 a couple of days ago so this fic is based on limited knowledge of the characters! Happy Valentine's Day! Oh and I took liberties with the powers and such!

Thinking about ex-boyfriend Gojo, who you can’t help but call. Dealing with his infuriatingly cocky attitude is worth it for the way he fucks you like no one else can. Every time you fell into his bed, you swore it wouldn’t happen again, especially now that you were newly married. You didn’t love your new husband, but he was rich, and he took care of you. You married him hoping to secure a future for yourself–and hoping the sex would get better–you could teach him, right? Gojo wasn’t that special– right?

Wrong. 

It had been a month since you got married and as many times as you tried to teach your new husband what you liked, what turned you on, he just couldn’t get it right. Tonight had been your last straw, you had tried so hard to be patient. He was doing better, but he had finished before you got off. And then had the audacity to fall asleep. 

You shot a glare his way as you climbed out of bed noisily and slunk off to the bathroom. The door slammed behind you and you waited for any kind of response. You got nothing from the other side of the door but more heavy snores.

The drawer across the bathroom, where you kept your toys, was calling your name. You knew it wouldn’t be the same, but what choice did you have? Maybe if you set the mood, it would be better. You turned off the overhead light, lit a candle, and listened to soft music on your phone. Still, you stared at the toys in the drawer with disappointment. Your most trusted wand was waiting for you on top, and you sighed as you picked it up. 

You tried to block him, to picture anyone else except for him as you worked the toy over your sensitive flesh. But there was no one else. And you were too close to the edge to care anymore. You let him flood your thoughts. His hands, his scent, his voice, his mouth–the toy died in your hand and you let out a groan of despair. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” you nearly yelled in frustration. No, you were beyond frustrated. You were aching, and desperate, and only one name was running through your mind. 

“Fuck it,” you muttered to yourself as you grabbed your phone off the counter and opened his contact. The last message from him was dated a little over a month ago. A slight tickle of shame nagged at you, but your fingers pressed on. 

You up?

His typing bubble appeared immediately. And you bit your lip anxiously, excitedly, as you waited for his response.

Be there in 5 minutes. 

Maybe less.

You rolled your eyes at the fact that he didn’t even try to pretend you were texting him for anything else. Despite your annoyance, your body clenched in anticipation. You bent over the sink to splash cold water on your face–you couldn’t stand to face him so achingly desperate, you needed to cool down. Just as you were thinking you should probably go wait for him on the porch–because he was obnoxious enough to ring the doorbell at three in the morning–he suddenly appeared behind you in the mirror, that obnoxious grin on his face. His big hand covered your mouth before you could scream. 

“Don’t want to wake hubby before I even get you off,” Gojo teased in your ear before he let you go and spun you around to face him. 

He wore his familiar deep blue-black uniform, a black blindfold over his eyes that held his white hair perfectly in place. He always towered over you, but you felt smaller than usual in nothing but your robe, looking up at him from where he was caging you against the marble sink. Even in your dark bathroom, with only the light of one candle to guide your sight, his beauty still struck you in all the right places. 

“Fuck you,” you huffed as you pushed his chest. He didn’t move, unaffected by your attempt.

He grabbed your wrist before you could pull it back. “Well, hello to you too.” He leaned in closer, his grin spreading wider and you held your breath, prepared for his lips to meet yours. But he pulled back quickly and moved next to you to lean against the counter. 

“So,” he dragged the word out as he crossed his arms. “What's up?” He could barely keep the smile off his face as he toyed with you. 

“Satoru,” you crossed your arms, mirroring him. 

He simply raised one arched white brow, waiting. Was he really going to make you say it? Asshole. 

“You know why I called you,” you grumbled. 

He tapped his chin with one long finger, humming in thought. “A chat? Is your dishwasher broken again? Oh, I know,” he snapped his long fingers and jumped up from the counter. You winced at the volume of his voice. “You want a rematch on Mario Kart! Sore loser.” 

“Shut up,” you hissed, anxiously glancing at the bathroom door, “dumbass.” You were starting to regret this already. 

“Would it have anything to do with this?” 

You turned back to him and found that he had moved to the other end of the counter where you had left your drawer open, your failed toy now in his hand.

“Hey, don’t touch my stuff!” You moved to snatch it back from him, but of course, he easily moved it out of your reach.

 He waved it tauntingly at you before he pushed the button to turn it on. 

“Doesn’t work very well,” he fake pouted. “Need some help?”

You swallowed your desire to fight him. “Yes,” you answered, just barely above a whisper. 

“Sorry, didn’t catch that sweets.” Gojo leaned down as if to hear you better. 

You clenched your hands into fists. “I called you because I thought you would get me off, not talk my ear off.” 

“What do you take me for?” Gojo straightened himself, his hand on his chest. “I’m not a whore, you could have at least made me dinner first.” 

“Seriously, Satoru, fuck you. I don’t even–”

“Where?” He cut you off and tilted his head as if he was thinking about it. The playfulness was seeping away as he stepped closer to you. “Should I fuck you right here, keep you quiet so your husband doesn’t hear?” The word husband rolled off his tongue with a mixture of annoyance and glee that you knew meant he was getting off on this more than he should be. “Or take you back to my place so you can be as loud as you want?” 

Your mouth opened to answer him, to give him the only logical answer, but no sound came out. You hated this effect he had on you. 

“What do you want, sweets?” He moved closer, lifting you with ease onto the bathroom sink. His fingers trailed up your thigh under your robe and you opened your legs for him, trying to force him to make the decision. You were not in the mood to think right now. 

He smirked and moved his fingers teasingly up your inner thigh and over your hip instead of where you wanted him.

“Toru,” you pouted, too wound up for his teasing. “I want your mouth–please,” you added on the please to try to win him over. The word felt like broken glass in your mouth.

Gojo’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you nearly whined. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do, sweets.” Gojo leaned in and placed his lips at your ear as his fingers finally started to explore where you needed him most. He paused, losing his words for a moment, and you felt your cheeks heat at how wet he found you–how needy. 

He cleared his throat once and continued, “You’re gonna come on my fingers like a good girl right here in this room next to your sleeping husband. And then I’ll take you home and fuck you however I want for as long as I want.” 

His long fingers were already inside of you–you would have agreed to anything he said. You nodded your head frantically as you gripped his shoulder. “More, faster,” you were trying to be quiet, but when he added a third finger, the sound that came out of your mouth was foreign to your ears. 

“Fuck, I like you desperate,” Gojo’s voice was husky in your ear. All traces of his playful attitude were gone as he expertly crooked his long fingers inside you.   

“I’m close,” you gasped. “Don’t stop.” 

“Already?” He teased. “He’s not taking care of my pretty little pussy at all, is he?” 

You wanted to argue with him. No part of you was his . But you both knew you would have been lying. Your head hit the bathroom cabinet as your hips arched up, trying to get even closer to him. You covered your mouth as you came on his fingers. His smooth voice faded in and out, praising you as your ears rang. Before you could come back down to earth, your surroundings shifted as he teleported you both to his apartment. 

Your back hit his soft bed, and you immediately reached for him, pulling him closer to you as you devoured his mouth. He tasted sweet, and you imagined he had been eating candy before he appeared in your home. His tongue worked against yours deliberately, sliding across the roof of your mouth and you knew he was teasing you on purpose. You wrapped your legs around his waist and moved your hands to his face. The sticky substance your hand came into contact with on his cheek made you pause and pull back. 

“Toru, what the fuck?” You sat up as he began laughing. He flipped on the light and you gasped at the blood on your hand and over his face. “What the fuck?!” 

You jumped off the bed and ran to his bathroom. He was still laughing as he followed you. 

“It’s just a little blood. Don’t freak out. I was working when you called.” 

You scrubbed your hands furiously in the sink as you glared at him in the mirror. “Why the fuck would you answer your phone if you were on a mission?!” 

Gojo wasn’t fighting. He was sitting with his back against a tree trunk, long legs stretched in front of him and a bag of sour candy in his hand. He watched his students work together to exorcise a curse. It was well within their ability to handle it, with a little guidance from him. He had already handled the more serious threats–it got a little messy, but it was easy work. 

He smiled proudly as Itadori landed a skilled hit. Then his phone buzzed, and he glanced at it quickly. It was probably just Ijichi asking for an update on the reports he was behind on. He had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating your name on his screen. 

Nope. 

Not crazy. 

It was you. 

“YES!!” He yelled, jumping to his feet and pumping his fist in the air. 

“What is it?!” Itadori yelled from across the field, blocking an attack, as he looked back at Gojo with concern. 

“Gotta go! You got this team!” 

“What?!” Itadori and Kugisaki yelled. “Where are you going?!” 

“Don’t bother asking,” Fushiguro said with the knowledge of someone who had spent plenty of time dealing with Gojo and his antics. 

“You’ll understand when you’re older, bye! Proud of you!” Gojo gave them one last wave before he disappeared. They’d be fine. He had waited too long for this…okay like a month.. but still that was much too long. 

  “It wasn’t a big deal. My students are taking care of it,” Gojo shrugged.

“Jesus,” you muttered as you wrung out a washcloth and turned to clean his face. “I could have waited.” 

“Please,” Gojo scoffed as he took the washcloth and cleaned the places you were too short to reach on your tiptoes. “You practically came as soon as I touched you.” 

“I really hate you.” 

You snatched the washcloth back from him and threw it on the sink for him to deal with later. The heat of his gaze followed you as you walked back to his bedroom, dropping your robe on the way. 

“I know.” Gojo smiled at you as you laid back on his bed. “Need something, sweets?” 

You groaned and sat up on your elbows to glare at him. “You can not seriously be as unaffected as you pretend to be.” 

You couldn’t see his eyes, hidden under his blindfold, but something shifted momentarily on his face. It made you shiver. 

“I asked you a question.” He crossed his arms as he leaned against the door frame. “Or I can send you back home?” He raised his fingers in threat. 

“No!” You glared at him again. “I need you, Toru. Need your mouth, please.” 

“Good girl,” he smirked but finally made his way to where you lay on his bed. He kissed you gently before trailing his lips down your neck, your chest, and over your stomach. 

This is what you had missed the most about him. His damned mouth was both the bane of your existence and your personal nirvana. Your husband didn’t share Gojo’s talents or desire in that department. The few times he had even offered to go down on you had left you more frustrated than pleased. 

Gojo’s big hands held your hips down as he teased your belly button with his tongue. “Tell me I’m the best.” 

“Wh–what?” You nearly laughed even as you were trying not to moan.  

“You heard me.” His mouth moved lower and goosebumps erupted over your skin as his breath hit your swollen clit. 

“Toru, please,” you breathed out, body tense. 

“Say it.” His fingers entered you slowly, hitting that spot that made your toes curl with ease. 

Fuck him. Seriously. 

“Come on sweets, I’ll make you feel so good, just tell me–”

His breath on your clit had you close already. 

“Fuck! Just—” he blew cool air on your clit and you lifted your hips in desperation. “You’re the best, Toru, fuck , you fuck me so good!” 

“Better than your husband?” 

“Yes!” You pulled on his hair, urging him forward. “So much fucking better it’s not fair.”

His mouth wrapped around your clit, and you came instantly. Thighs shaking around his head as he moaned against you. His tongue replaced his fingers as he drank you up. It truly wasn’t fair how easy this was for him. And how were you ever supposed to move on knowing that this was one text away, anytime you wanted it?

Gojo’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, spreading them further apart as he lost himself in you. His once teasing tongue, now filling you so nicely that you were babbling nonsense. Praising him like you never would normally. But you would have said anything to keep his mouth right where it was. The arrogant asshole had the biggest praise kink you had ever seen. 

“It’s so good, Toru,” you whimpered. “You feel so good, fuck!” You buried your hand in his white hair as your hips bucked up, grinding against his face. 

He pulled back, and you whined at the loss of sensation.  

“Aww, you wanna ride my face sweets?” 

You nodded and watched with rapt attention as he stood and undressed himself. He grabbed the high collar of his jacket with his teeth as he yanked the zipper down. The rest of his clothes disappeared just as quickly. You gulped at the sight of his cock, heavy and ready for you. 

“Focus,” Gojo pointed to his face and your eyes snapped up. He laid back on the bed and beckoned you forward. He was beautiful, as always, all lean-toned muscle and ridiculous abs. You could have stared at him for hours, spent even longer worshipping every part of him. But right now, you have one sole purpose. Your eyes moved to your prize. His pretty mouth, smirking at you. “Come on sweets.” His words are honeyed and tempting. 

Hurriedly, you crawled over him until you hovered over his ridiculously handsome face. His hands splayed over your waist, ready to pull you to him. 

“Wait,” you paused him and ran your fingers over his blindfold. “Can I?” 

“Always.” 

You pushed the silk black blindfold off his face, revealing his sparkling blue eyes. They were dilated with hunger that made your thighs clench. 

“You’re so pretty Toru.” 

He didn’t give you time to regret the words. 

“Not as pretty as you, sweets. Now come on, ride my face like I know you’ve been dreaming about.” 

“Cocky bastard,” you muttered as you sat on his face, not giving him a chance to respond. 

Even you had to admit that riding his pretty face, hand buried in that pretty hair, staring into those pretty eyes–he had the right to be cocky. How could anyone else ever compete with this? 

You were close, thighs clenching around his head. You looked back to watch him stroke himself–knowing he needed this too made you come all over his pretty face. 

He groaned against you, moving both his hands to your waist to hold you in place while he fucked you through your orgasm. 

“God, fuck that was good,” you sighed as you slid off of him. You intended to ask for a break, your legs felt like jello and you were sensitive after so many orgasms back to back. But Gojo had other ideas. He flipped you onto your stomach and lifted your hips, he was inside you before you could protest. 

“Fuck sweets,” he groaned, “you feel so good every damn time.” 

His cock was too much. The stretch burned, and his blunt tip hit the perfect spot with every thrust of his hips. 

“Too much–Toru” you gasped as he gave you another sharp thrust. 

“You can take it,” he answered, his body weight falling on you as he ran his tongue over the shell of your ear. His hand wrapped around your throat, two long fingers dipping into your mouth. “ You called me. You’ll take what I give you, yeah sweets?” 

Seriously, fuck him. 

You hummed around his fingers and nodded. 

“Good girl,” he pulled his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. “Take it, know you need it.” 

He moved his hips faster, and tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. He felt so good–otherworldly. Exactly what you had been craving. You couldn’t breathe, he stole each breath with each thrust of his hips. He leaned over you again and intertwined his hands with yours. You felt his lips as they began a path on your left shoulder, leaving searing kisses down your arm. 

“Fucking perfect. Just being wasted. I’d never let you out of my bed. Mine.” A sloppy kiss followed each word until he reached your wrist. You turned your head to watch him as he kissed the ring on your finger, running his long tongue over it. It was too much, you had to close your eyes as pure pleasure melted your brain. Stars twinkled behind your eyes and you couldn’t stop the tears born of ecstasy anymore. 

“Aww, are you cryin’?” His cocky voice should have made you want to punch him, but you were teetering on the edge of another orgasm. His tongue licked up your tears and you shattered around him. “So good for me, sweets.” 

Gojo pulled out and flipped you onto your back. His gaze devoured you from head to toe before he met your teary eyes again. His fingers brushed your cheek gently. “Need one more, sweets, just one more. You can do that for me, right?” 

You couldn’t speak, you made a small noise of consent and he rewarded you with a smile.

“You’d do anything I asked, wouldn’t you?” He nipped at your skin, tongue teasing your breast while he pushed your thigh up. “So pliant,” he spoke mostly to himself as you closed your eyes and let him slide into you again. “You don’t let him fuck you like this, do you?” 

You knew he was talking about the lack of protection. You also knew the answer he was hoping for and you couldn’t give it to him. You wanted kids, he knew that. Gojo had never offered the security you needed from him–he was always gone, always so flippant about everything. He was never going to be marriage material. That’s why you had left him in the first place. 

You felt his smile fade against your skin as he sat up to look at you. 

“Not yet, but Toru–I’m off the pill. You knew I wanted this.” 

His face darkened, and you saw a hint of anger in his blue eyes. He didn’t say anything as he lifted your leg and put it over his chiseled shoulder. His pace had slowed, but he was hitting those deep spots inside you that only he had explored. Finally, he took a breath and leaned back down to your ear. “Gonna send you back to him full of my cum. Full of my babies.” 

You gasped even as your pussy clenched around him, betraying you. “You can’t,” you tried to argue. 

“You want it, I can feel it.” 

You did want it, both the feeling of him cumming inside you and his kids. But you’d never let him know that second truth. 

“I hate you,” you whimpered against his lips, tears brimming your eyes again. 

“I know, I know, I hate me too.” 

He didn’t give you time to question what that meant. He quickened his pace, fucking you so hard you couldn’t form words if you had tried. 

Your back arched off the bed as you moaned for him. 

“Hold on sweets, not yet.” He lifted you off the bed and held you in his lap. He helped your hips move faster than you could manage on your own. He watched your breasts bounce for a moment, eyes transfixed, before he took one in his warm mouth. Your whole body was so sensitive, you cried out for him and one of his big hands moved to squeeze your free breast. He was messy, a string of saliva connecting him to you as he moved his mouth from your tits to your neck. He was going to leave a bruise, you could feel it. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped. “You have to–I can’t take anymore.”

“I said not yet,” he growled against your throat. “I’m not ready to be done with you. Not yet.”

Me neither. 

You wanted to say. 

I never want to be done with you. 

But you said nothing. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hid your face in his snowy white hair.

Your world shifted, and you gasped as you suddenly found yourself back in your bedroom–in your bed–your husband still peacefully asleep right next to where Gojo was laying you back on your pillow. 

“Toru, what the fuck?!” you whisper-shouted at him as you hit his chest. He simply laughed, loud and annoying. You shot a panicked look at your husband, but he didn’t move at all. 

“Don’t worry, sweets, he won’t bother us.” Gojo put your legs back where they belonged, over his shoulders, and resumed his brutal pace. 

Your headboard rattled, and the sound of his hips snapping against yours filled the room. Still, your husband slept as if nothing was happening. You didn’t question it–Gojo had his ways. You couldn’t possibly think straight with how well he was fucking you, anyway. You dropped your head back and squeezed your eyes closed against the pleasure curling low in your stomach. 

“Do you think about me when he fucks you?” 

“Yes!” you answered with zero hesitation, and you felt him shiver under your hands. “Always you.” 

“I hate you,” he groaned quietly, painfully. 

“I–” you couldn’t think of a response to that line, which usually only came out of your mouth. You couldn’t think of anything but how deep inside you he was. 

“Come on, sweets,” his normal voice was back, cocky and needy. “Come all over my cock.” Gojo’s finger rubbed tight circles on your clit and you groaned. 

“God, fuck, fuck , Jesus !” 

“Say my name,” he panted against your mouth. “Say it, fucking say it.”

Satoru. 

Satoru. 

Satoru! 

You couldn’t stop saying it. 

“I’m cumming,” you gasped, “Toru, fuck!” You continued chanting his name and you could tell he was close, too. His thrusts got sloppy, and he whined in your ear when you pulled his hair. 

“Don’t make me stop,” he groaned, planting sloppy kisses on your neck. 

You should. You absolutely should make him stop. 

“Don’t,” you whimpered, “don’t stop, Toru.” 

“Fuck,” he moved from where he was hiding his face against your neck and pulled your head back to look at him. “Say it. Louder.” 

He was frantic, his eyes so dilated, that you could just barely see a ring of blue. His tongue swiped at your lips in a messy kiss. 

You never stood a chance. 

“Come inside me, Toru. Please. Please, fill me up. Want it, need you.” 

“Fuck yes, take it,” he panted against your lips as he came. “Such a good girl took me so well.” 

You whimpered against his lips as he gave you a few more sloppy kisses before pulling out of you. He laid on his side, propped up on his elbow to smile cockily at you. 

“You’re a sick fuck, you know that.” You glanced over at your husband, who still hadn’t moved. 

Gojo smiled and shrugged his shoulder. “You’ve called me worse.” He swiped his fingers through your folds, pushing his cum back inside and then licking his fingers clean. 

You stared at him in awe and hatred, no words coming out of your mouth. 

“Mmm,” he hummed as he laid his head on your chest. “What a great night. Killed some curses, had amazing sex, and I get to collect on my bet with Kento. I told him you’d cave in less than 6 weeks.”

Heat prickled up your spine. If you hadn’t been so blissfully fucked out, you would have thrown him off of you. You settled for pulling his hair hard until he babbled out an apology. 

“Idiot,” you hissed as you let him go. 

“Kidding,” he rubbed the back of his head as he frowned. “Come on, shower.” 

He hopped out of your bed like nothing was amiss and when you didn’t follow, he came back and picked you up as if you weighed nothing. 

“Sorry, forgot you probably can’t walk right now.” 

Too tired to argue with him any longer, you snuggled against his neck and let him carry you to the shower. You let him bathe you and dress you and carry you back to bed. You were half asleep by the time he laid you down on your pillow. That didn’t stop you from laughing at the sight of him in your robe. He didn’t think to teleport clothes with him. 

“Shush,” Gojo pulled your comforter up to your chin, and you nuzzled against your pillow, inhaling his scent now embedded in the fabric. 

“Thank you,” you whispered as he kissed you. 

“Anytime, sweets.” 

“Last time,” you mumbled. “Go get a girlfriend.” 

“Not likely,” he chuckled. “I’ll wait for you.” 

He meant he’d wait for your next text, for your resolve to break again. That’s it. You wouldn’t let yourself believe anything else. 

You felt him brush your hair back, a whisper of a kiss placed on your temple. 

You reached for him, to pull him closer, but your fist closed around air. You opened your eyes to find him gone, just as quickly as he had appeared.

        Gojo teleported back to his apartment before he said anything else stupid. He should change and go to sleep. But being alone was…hard. The silence in his apartment felt like it was choking him. His laissez-faire attitude worked best with an audience. 

Quickly, he put his uniform back on and secured his blindfold over his eyes. After a quick text to Kento to pay up, he teleported back to the field he had left his students in. Thankfully, they were still there. The curse was almost exorcised. They did not need his help at all. He could make himself feel better by watching their growth and achievements. Or…he could kill something. 

  Gojo removed his blindfold as he let himself float off the ground. The cursed energy that coursed through him built and built as he thought about you. He shouldn’t have gone. He told himself that every time. And every time he left you feeling shitty he told himself that next time he wouldn’t answer. He remembered the way he had literally leaped for joy at your text. Idiot . 

“Gojo?” 

Itadori’s voice from below. He’d be disappointed he didn’t get to finish the job. But Gojo couldn’t stop the cursed energy as it flew from his hands. The curse exploded into a million messy bits with a scream of horror. Gojo winced as blood splattered him from head to toe. He glanced down at the kids. Fushiguro was shaking blood out of his long hair and he could practically see the steam coming out of Kugisaki’s ears. 

“Ice cream?” Gojo asked cheerily, a big fake smile on his face. They ran to him as his feet found the Earth again. 

“Yes!” Itadori exclaimed. 

“What the hell was that?!” Kugisaki yelled, her hands balled into angry fists. 

“Where did you go?” Fushiguro asked quietly as Gojo led the way to the black car waiting for them. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Fushiguro fell quiet but looked up at him again hesitantly. “Are you okay? You looked…scary up there. And that curse was practically exorcised already.” 

Gojo ground his teeth. Now the kid chooses to get talkative. He looked down at Fushiguro and almost blew him off again. But the kid looked so earnest. Gojo put his arm around him and pulled him closer. 

“I did something I shouldn’t have. Something selfish.” 

“That’s not new.”

“I suppose not,” Gojo sighed. The ache in his chest had only been slightly dulled. Too bad there wasn’t another curse lurking around to kill. 

“How are you going to fix it?”

Gojo hummed, pondering. “Well, I guess when you love something, sometimes you have to let it go. I’ve been too selfish to do that.” 

“Something or someone?” 

Gojo flinched as Itadori popped up on his other side, big curious eyes boring into his face. 

“ That’s why you left?” Kugisaki groaned. “Ew.” 

“That’s not–no I–” Gojo stuttered, and they all broke into a fit of giggles. Even Fushiguro had a smile on his face. 

“No ice cream for any of you.” Gojo stomped off, leaving their pleas and apologies behind him. 

You had always thought that his love for his job and his students meant he would make a great father. You never understood why he never wanted that with you. It hurt you and he hated it. Hated that it cost him everything. But you never understood that his job was exactly why he couldn’t have that future with you. He couldn’t be there for you and you deserved someone who could. 

He sat in the car, staring at your contact on his phone. The next time you called, he wouldn’t answer. His finger slid across the screen and pressed the red delete button next to your name. 

His heart felt like it had been exorcised. A big empty hole in his chest that could never be repaired. He heaved a sigh, clutching his phone so tightly that it was a wonder it didn’t shatter, and said, “Last time.” 

He loved you enough to give you that.

[amoeganism]

DON'T LIE, I'M PERFECT AND YOU LOVE ME luka

Luka really wants to take a nap after a long day of being exploited and being a pain in the ass to every human around him, but your priorities (pissing him off) come first!

WC: ~600

Your boyfriend, visibly exhausted, miserably slumps his upper body onto his bed and his knees collapse. Bundled under mounds of thick blankets, you reach an arm out to ruffle Luka’s blond hair, brushing through his wavy locks and petting his head like a dog. You snicker at the sight of his face contorting after realizing what you’re doing, lazily swiping your hand away and grunting before coughing into his arm. 

It takes you a few moments to inch over to where Luka lays. You didn’t want to sacrifice the comfort of being suffocated and melting into your bed until you’re a pile of sweat and nasty mulch. His eyes slowly flutter shut and his breathing slows but the uncomfortable position he’s in acts as a barrier between him and falling into a deep sleep. However, it takes too much energy to try to pull Luka fully onto the mattress, but what doesn’t take much energy is disrupting the rest he needs. You aren’t planning on getting the title of “Number One Lover of a Superstar” and you hadn’t seen him the entire day since you both had woken up; you deserve this, you reason to yourself. 

Under your fingertips, you switch between prodding and poking his pale cheeks until they warm and bloom into a faint pink. Luka tries his best to make you stop, puffing his cheeks and intertwining your fingers together but you retaliate by grabbing his face and watching him deflate. It gives you a slight ego boost when he gives up and chooses to throw his lanky limbs over you, adding his heavy bodyweight over the mass of your blankets.

“How was your day of terrorizing the music industry?” you ask, immediately returning to pinching his cheeks. 

“I don’t need to terrorize anyone. Everyone already knows that I’m a fan favorite.”

“Yeah because I totally hallucinated you having at least ten different tabs about Mizi and you weren’t writing in a notebook titled ‘Evil and Devious Masterplan’. You’re embarrassing when you beef with people eight years younger than you.”

“God forbid a man has hobbies.”

“Yeah I really hate it. Stick to singing and looking cute. Only I deserve to see your evil. It makes me feel special when you aren’t exposing yourself to everyone.”

“You make it sound like I’m flashing the public.”

“You pretty much are. Your dick and bad personality are the same thing.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Luka whines in which you stick your tongue out at him in response. “I’m an innocent man who can do nothing bad. Ever. And here I am, being mistreated by the one who is supposed to love me until and beyond death. What did I do to deserve this?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry Luka,” you press a kiss to his sore, red cheek, letting your lips linger on his skin before hugging him tighter. At the same time, you ignore the fact that he is a thirty year old man throwing a minor tantrum over you having fun being insufferable the same way he does on a daily basis. “Anyways, can I bite your face? I have a really bad urge to do that right now. Actually, I don’t need your permission.”

“Hey! I have a show tomorrow, you know? My fans are going to be disappointed if I appear with teeth marks on my face. What will the public think—ow!”

“Hehe, you’re so cute like this.”

“At least bite the other side to even it out,” Luka sighs and turns his head. 

“I knew you loved me.”

[oddballwriter]

Slut Him Out

Summary: You and Steven partake in some kinky activities, with you edging him and making him degrade himself knowing that he gets off on it. But it turns out that Steven is wanting to play in some more action by being a brat.

Warnings: SMUT. BDSM and kinks involved such as dom/sub dynamic, brat play, brat discipline, bondage, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, edging, rough handling/manhandling, use of sex toys including a vibrator, cock ring, and gag (mentioned). Dom!reader and sub!brat!Steven. back on my bottom and kinky sub Steven propaganda again. There's also the implication that the reader and Jake also engage in dom/sub dynamics too.

Author’s Snip: I wanted to write for my proposal and idea that Steven should be allowed to be into more hard and degrading stuff with the idea of him being into some kinky stuff. Just because I've personally yet to see it and I feel like Jake and Marc shouldn't be the only ones who get to be a part of that. All this to say I want more bratty Steven. Let him be a brat.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 678

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sergeant102105 @ingoldthewizard

Honestly, despite the stereotype that nerds are all secretly the kinkiest people on the planet, when people looked at Steven Grant, no one could fathom the idea that he could partake in anything remotely kinky. He was socially awkward, timid, and if it weren't for the fact that you found all that charming about him and asked him out, and thus began dating, some would say he possibly had no game. Quite possibly even freeze up as soon as anything remotely sexual started happening around him.

But what they don't know is that Steven really is that stereotype but in a whole other way.

"Say it," you command him.

"I'm a...~" he breathes out, but he trails off.

"Come on. Don't tell me you can't string some words together. We haven't been going for that long," you tease him.

"I'm a desperate slut!~" he moans out.

You and Steven were sitting on the bed, you simply sat on the bed, fully clothed, pulling Steven's back against your chest. Of which, Steven was completely naked and sat on his knees with his hands bound behind his back. The hand that you weren't using to keep Steven flushed against you was reaching in front of him, jerking him off.

"There we go. That wasn't so hard. Was it?" you purr in his ear, but Steven only whimpers back.

You keep going for a while till Steven goes from whimpering to moaning, getting closer to coming with each stroke, but when he's almost there you stop dead in the middle of the action making him cry out and try thrusting his hips to get more. But you're quick to stop him by taking the hand you're using to hold him from his chest to his curls and tugging on them, making him moan embarrassingly loud.

"Ah-ah," you tut, "You know better than that," you scold him.

"Please. I need to come," Steven begs. "You said if I was good I could come," he says.

"And you said that I could make you come any way I wanted. But here you are being a brat and trying to get your way," you tell him.

"I'm not a brat!" he protests.

"You're sure acting like one." you taunt him.

"And you're being unfair," he bites back, "I want to come now." he whines, adding "You let Jake come when he wants, whenever you do this with him.".

You grab his chin and turn him to face you. "Maybe because Jake does as he's told and doesn't talk back," you tell Steven. "But if you keep talking back like that and you're getting the ring and vibe treatment and I'll leave you like that till you wanna behave," you warn him.

"No," Steven begs, "I got that last time, that's not fair," he whines.

"What's the word?" you ask. That's your version of asking for the safe word.

"Gatsby" he says. Go. You nod in response before continuing.

"I'll warn you one last time. You either stop being a brat or I'm getting the stuff," you order him.

"You're no fun," he grumbles.

"Now you're getting the gag too," you say as you push him forward onto the bed, the mattress of course breaking his fall onto his front. "It'll save us the noise complaint of you moaning like a whore." you add as you get up to retrieve the toys from their storage in a lower drawer across the room.

You're still able to see the bed in the corner of your vision as you stifle through all the things in the drawer. You can see Steven squirming and occasionally trying to fight against the rope binding his wrists, and whimpering and breathing heavily. But you know that they aren't noises of distress. As a matter of fact, you get the idea that he's trying to get off on his own to continue testing you.

You grab everything and walk back to the bed, "Last warning, Steven. You either stop and be good or I'll make you behave," you say.

"Make me then."

[erulasse23]

Frodo & PTSD: Healing

At the end of Frodo’s journey, he is left feeling isolated, alone, and without joy. It says in “The Grey Havens” that he withdrew from Shire life. When he becomes “ill” on the anniversary of being stabbed (by the Nazgul and Shelob), he hides it from Sam and says nothing. We know that his self-concept has been irreversibly changed. He set out from the Shire as a kind gentle-hobbit, with the idea of adventure being exciting and fun, only to be confronted with suffering, the reality of evil, and his own perceived failures. 

In the end, he cannot conceive of a life outside of his trauma and how he has been changed by his journey. He decides to sail to Valinor. Now what is interesting is that while the fandom (at least recently) has interpreted this as Frodo going to find healing in Valinor since he could not in Middle Earth, Tolkien never says that he is going for the purpose of healing. Rather, you get the impression that he has given up on healing. That his wounds are too deep and his joy too far lost. Sailing does indeed mark an end to his suffering, but not necessarily because he has healed. 

I want to interject a bit of historical context here. While Tolkien was writing the Lord of the Rings, post World War II, research on mental health was lightyears behind where it is today. The diagnosis of PTSD would not be added to the DSM until 1980, after wide study in the aftermath of the Vietnam War. In Tolkien’s time, it was called “battle fatigue” or “combat stress reaction”. Treatments ranged from electroshock therapy, to sedatives, to psychotherapy. The field of psychotherapy was a bit chaotic then, with the emergence of several new styles such as cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), still widely practiced today. 

The problem with these treatments, including CBT, is that they do not address the actual cause of PTSD. As previously discussed, PTSD occurs when the body’s stress response is overwhelmed and becomes “stuck”. CBT aims to change our rational thoughts and ideas, which then change the resultant emotions. This is a “top-down” approach. People who have experienced trauma do not necessarily respond to this because symptoms don’t come from a thought or belief from our rational brain, they come from our subconscious brain being stuck in crisis mode. Therefore, a “bottom-up” approach works much better.

Currently, some of the most-recommended treatments for PTSD include DBT (dialectical behavior therapy), EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing), and neurofeedback therapy, all aiming to create a sense of physical sensation of safety, allow for traumatic memories to be processed appropriately, and to “unstick” our brains. A sense of community and mindfulness, fully inhabiting our bodies but not being alone in them, is essential to recovery. 

So let’s compare Frodo to Eowyn. Eowyn also suffers a grievous blow from the Witch-King himself and is left afterwards with the same symptoms: despair, dark dreams, and she is cold and pale. The difference between the two, however, is that, “Her malady begins far back before this day,” as Aragon says. Eowyn, for a variety of reasons (that’s a whole other post if we’re going to discuss her trauma), rode out with the feeling that her only purpose was to die in battle. She says that she does not want healing, she only wishes to return to the battle and die. Her injury and the Black Shadow of the Nazgul are not a new experience for her, they do not change her self-conception. They only make her more determined. 

Healing for Eowyn begins when Faramir takes the time to listen to her and validate her feelings. He does not tell her she is wrong, or attempt to change her belief. He sits with her, and eventually, he explains that he loves her for herself, fully separate from her trauma or depression and regardless of what emotions she is feeling. He enables her to see that she is more than her grief. He shows her a life where she is not alone and where she may feel happy again, and she allows herself feel that happiness rather than clinging to death. Her character evolution is almost an inverse of Frodo's in this way.

Now this is not at all a criticism of Sam (I love that hobbit to death!!) but Sam does not provide this same sense of community to Frodo. Sam loves Frodo, but his attention is divided between Frodo and Rosie (and the regular Shire goings-on). Sam struggles to understand why Frodo cannot enjoy the Shire as he once did, and he isn’t able to offer the same sort of validation. But I think Sam is the reason that Frodo stayed as long as he did, and the reason that Frodo was able to complete his quest. And I like to think that once Sam arrived in Valinor, he was reunited with a Frodo who, while not the hobbit he was before the Fellowship, has regained a sense of joy and togetherness. 

If you want more information about any of the topics that I briefly touched on here, let me know! I’m always happy to yap about my interests :)

Part One | Part Two

[meritski]

no (hyoid) bone to pick • heizou x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of suicide, murder, blood, and corpses (nothing very detailed but please be aware) , reader is a forensic scientist

“Regarding the victim’s past mental health problems and the medicine she has been using for the past months, her suicide can be explained by the depression she’s been experiencing. The divorce must have taken a toll on her. Poor soul, may she rest in peace.”

Heizou gave the man in front of him a close-eyed smile, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes at all. ‘Bullshit.’ The interview was not going to his liking, it seemed. 

“Ah, I see. Thank you for your input and contribution.”

The man’s eyes lit up immediately. 

“So, May I take my lea—”

“Ah, there is my favorite doctor!”

Heizou stood up quickly, leaving the man hanging in the room while not batting an eye. Intentionally, of course.

On the other hand, hearing his loud and somewhat energetic voice, you sighed while arranging the papers that were in your hands. You seemed tired, he noted. And worst of all, you seemed in a bad mood. Ah.

“Hey.”

It was a simple, curt response. One that he expected but didn’t like it nonetheless. He decided he wasn’t going to dampen your mood by wasting your time even more like he usually did. 

“Got any news?”

You nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Not good ones, I suppose?”

“Well, good for the investigation.”

“Oh, they must be bad then.”

“It’s probably not a suicide,”

Hearing him hum in acknowledgment, you sighed and thought: ‘Of course, he’d guess’ and continued. 

“Their hyoid bone is fractured and they are past 30, which means their bones are not flexible at all, also since they don’t weigh much— It’s unlikely for the hanging to cause a fracture. So I’d say it’s most likely to be a…”

You were giving a piece of important information while his thoughts were having none of it.

‘Are they rambling? Cute.’

“Yeah, guessed so.”

“I could guess you’d guess, detective. I am afraid that’s all I got. I wasn’t even allowed in the medical examination room, and the autopsy reports are—”

“Whoa, you sneaked a peek for me? My my, aren’t you adorable—”

“Shut up.”

He laughed. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, his presence was comforting. After being surrounded by dead bodies and the smell of blood all day— his cologne was refreshing in a way. And maybe his personality was also helping you to clear your head. But you’d never say that to his face and feed his ego even more.

You let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding and spoke again,

“Can you get me the blood samples of their ex-husband?”

“Ah, so we are on the same page. Though I don’t know why you need it, of course.”

This was surprisingly going well; you were waiting for him to play around a bit first. Well, it clearly saved you from the headache.

“Thanks,”

Finally, your eyes met his. Ah, now looking at him closely, he seemed tired too. Though it didn’t affect his smile, his eyes were telling a different story.

“...want to grab a drink?”

Okay, maybe the tiredness didn’t affect his smile, but your suggestion clearly did wonders because you could’ve sworn his eyes shined at the sound of it.

“Lead the way, then.”

He extended his hand to you. You looked at it for a few seconds before placing the reports on it. You opened your phone and looked at the time, all while avoiding his eyes, the words slipped between your lips,

“The café or the vending machine?”

 “...vending machine.”

His tone sounded like a disappointed child who was pouting. 

Good thing you didn’t look at him because, boy, was he sulking. He mentally sighed and followed after you.

‘So much for wanting them to hold my hand.’

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ heizou is my baby, i love him sm <3

☆ not proofread (again), so it might get rewritten later! (it probably won’t, anyway)

☆ why do i study medicine?

☐ money

☐ my family forced me to do so

☐ because i want to help people

☒ to write fanfics based on what i’ve learned in class

[goldfades]

jealous!reader with devin booker. because of an ex or maybe someone trying to hit on him (make it as angsty as you can)

AAAAA yes, i loved writing this sm. angst may be my fav genre

You weren’t mad.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the tight knot in your stomach, the way your arms were crossed just a little too tightly over your chest, the way your jaw had been clenched for the last twenty minutes? Yeah, that told a different story.

The night was supposed to be fine. You and Devin had already been on shaky ground before even stepping foot into the event—one of those stupid, lingering arguments that started small but had grown into something bigger, heavier. Something neither of you wanted to talk about, but also something you couldn't quite let go of.

It had started earlier in the afternoon. Something small, a conversation that should’ve lasted five minutes but spiraled into something else entirely.

“I just don’t get why you still talk to her.”

Devin had sighed, already exhausted before the argument even started. “It’s not like that.”

You had given him a sharp look, arms crossing over your chest. “Then what is it like, Devin? Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like your ex still thinks she has a place in your life.”

“She’s not in my life,” he had said, voice tight, like he was trying to keep his patience in check. “We broke up. We don’t talk like that. Why are you making this a thing?”

That had been the match to the fire.

Because it was always the same when you fought—he was calm, collected, logical. And you? You felt everything all at once, sharp and overwhelming, and it burned at you until you had to say something. And the worst part? He never saw it the way you did. He never understood why it sat so heavy in your chest.

And now, here you were.

Standing at his side at some exclusive event, dressed to perfection, forced to smile and act like you weren’t barely speaking to him when, in reality, you felt like you were drowning.

And then—because of course the universe hated you—she showed up.

The ex.

The one who wasn’t in his life but, apparently, was still comfortable enough to be here, in his space, in your space, looking at him like she hadn’t lost him years ago.

She was beautiful. Stunning, even. And worse? She knew it. She had that effortless, casual confidence of someone who wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all you. And that made you sick.

It wasn’t even what she said—it was the way she looked at him. The way she leaned in just enough when she laughed, the way she barely acknowledged you standing right there, like you were an afterthought.

And the worst part? Devin wasn’t shutting it down.

He wasn’t flirting, but he also wasn’t walking away.

And that was enough to send your stomach twisting, your throat tightening, the words already bubbling up before you could stop them.

You weren’t mad.

But you were about to be.

The air between you and Devin was thick—tense—so much so that you could barely hear the hum of conversations around you, barely register the music drifting through the venue. All you could focus on was her and the way Devin wasn’t doing a damn thing to put distance between them.

Your nails dug into your palm as you watched the exchange unfold. She was laughing, tilting her head just slightly, that kind of effortless, I know I still get under your skin type of posture that made you feel feral.

And Devin?

He wasn’t laughing. But he also wasn’t shutting it down.

Not immediately. Not the way you would have wanted him to.

His body language wasn’t exactly inviting, but it wasn’t closed off either. His hands were in his pockets, expression unreadable, giving those short, polite responses that weren’t necessarily warm but weren’t cold enough.

And that’s what killed you.

Because you knew Devin.

You knew what it looked like when he wasn’t interested in a conversation. You’d seen him completely ignore people at events like this, brush them off, make it clear he had no time for them.

But right now? He wasn’t doing that.

He was letting her talk.

Letting her linger in your space, steal your moment.

Your chest felt tight, like your heart was pushing up against your ribcage, trying to claw its way out. The irritation burned under your skin, hotter and heavier with every passing second.

And then—then—she reached out.

Fingertips, barely there, just a light touch on his arm as she said something low enough that you couldn’t hear.

And that was it.

The thin thread of restraint holding you together snapped.

Your hand shot out before you could stop yourself, curling around Devin’s wrist, firm, a clear, unspoken message.

His head turned instantly, eyes locking onto yours—dark, sharp, aware. He knew. He knew. And yet, for some reason, he still looked surprised.

You forced a smile—tight, too sweet, dripping with something almost dangerous. “Babe,” you said, voice light but laced with an undeniable edge, “I didn’t realize we were catching up with old friends tonight.”

Devin exhaled slowly through his nose, something flickering behind his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

You tilted your head, squeezing his wrist just a little before dropping it. “Really?” You flicked a glance at her, your expression unreadable, before turning back to him. “Because it looks a lot like that.”

She let out a soft little laugh, the kind that made your blood simmer just under your skin. “Relax,” she said, tone airy, like this was all a joke. “We were just talking—nothing serious.”

Your eyes snapped back to her, and you felt something sharp twist in your gut. You weren’t proud of the way you reacted next, but at this point, you weren’t thinking straight.

“Oh, I’m relaxed,” you shot back, still smiling, still maintaining that same deadly sweetness. “But maybe next time, you can just talk from a little farther away.”

There it was. The shift.

The briefest flicker of surprise crossed her features before she masked it with a knowing smirk, like she loved that she was getting to you, like she thrived off it.

But Devin?

Devin sighed, raking a hand down his face, and that? That pissed you off more than anything.

Because now he was acting like you were the problem.

Like you were making something out of nothing.

Like you were overreacting.

The heat in your chest turned ice-cold. You took a small step back, your arms crossing over your chest. “You know what?” Your voice dropped, quieter now, more dangerous. “I think I’m done with this conversation.”

Devin’s brows pulled together, his body shifting slightly toward you, like he could feel the way you were closing yourself off. “Wait—”

But you were already turning on your heel, already stepping away, already heading toward the exit.

And if he didn’t follow?

Then that would tell you everything you needed to know.

Devin caught up to you just as you stepped onto the curb, your phone in hand, thumb moving over the screen with quick, furious taps.

“Are you serious right now?” His voice was rough, low, still measured—but barely. Like he was fighting to keep it together.

You didn’t look at him. “Dead serious.”

His jaw clenched as he caught sight of your screen. Uber arriving in 4 minutes.

“Come on, man,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand down his face like he couldn’t believe he was actually dealing with this. “You’re being ridiculous.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Your head snapped up, eyes burning, voice razor-sharp. “I’m being ridiculous?”

He exhaled, hard. “Yeah. You are.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Devin.” You let out a hollow laugh, shoving your phone into your bag with a sharpness that made your hands shake. “Did I ruin your little moment back there? Did I embarrass you?”

His head tilted, his eyes narrowing in warning. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like I wanted that to happen.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, shaking your head. “You let it happen.”

“I—” He cut himself off, looking away for half a second, hands planted on his hips, trying to breathe. “It wasn’t like that.”

“But you didn’t stop it either,” you shot back, voice sharp, pointed, digging into him like glass. “You let her stand there, you let her touch you, you let her look at you like—”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, taking a step closer, his voice dipping dangerously low. “You’re really doing this right now?”

“Yes, Devin! I am!” Your voice cracked at the end, emotion spilling out, raw and unfiltered. You didn’t care who was watching anymore. Didn’t care that people were turning heads as they stepped out of luxury cars, eyes flickering toward the two of you with thinly veiled curiosity. Let them watch.

“You don’t get it,” you muttered, shaking your head, your chest rising and falling fast, your emotions right there, just under the surface, threatening to rip you open. “You never get it.”

His brows pulled together, his voice quieter now. “Then help me understand.”

But that’s what made you angrier. Because he wasn’t raising his voice, he wasn’t matching your fire, he was standing there, calm, acting like this was something logical, something fixable, when it felt so much bigger than that.

You ran a hand through your hair, gripping the strands at the roots. “You don’t see the way she looks at you, Devin. The way other people do. The way—”

His jaw flexed, his nostrils flaring slightly. “I don’t give a fuck how she looks at me.”

“But you don’t care how I feel about it either,” you said, voice breaking.

And that? That landed.

His entire body tensed, his expression shifting just slightly—something cracking, something faltering.

But before he could say anything, before you could even process the weight of your own words, your Uber pulled up.

You turned immediately, reaching for the door handle, but before you could even blink, Devin’s hand wrapped around your wrist, firm, pulling you back.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered.

You yanked your arm, but his grip was solid. “Devin, let go.”

“Not a fucking chance,” he bit out, already reaching past you to yank the door shut before you could open it.

“Are you serious?” You turned on him, furious, shoving at his chest with both hands, but he barely moved.

“You’re not getting in that car,” he said, his voice low, his grip still tight on your wrist, not painful, but enough to make it clear.

You struggled against him, your heart hammering, every part of you buzzing with adrenaline. “Let. Me. Go.”

His eyes burned into yours, dark and unrelenting. “No.”

You shoved at him again, but this time, he moved.

Not away. Forward.

And before you could stop him, before you could even think, he was wrapping an arm around your waist, lifting you like you weighed nothing, turning toward the valet stand like he was on a fucking mission.

“Devin, what the fuck! Put me down!” You thrashed against him, pushing at his shoulders, his chest, but it was useless. He was stronger, determined, stubborn as hell.

“You wanna scream at me?” he gritted out, barely breaking stride. “Fine. You can do it in my car.”

The valet had his car waiting already, probably watching the scene with wide eyes, but Devin didn’t give a single shit. He reached for the handle, yanked the door open, and practically threw you into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut before you could even think about escaping.

You were fuming, your entire body vibrating with frustration as you ripped at the door handle—locked.

The driver’s side opened, and Devin slid in, his jaw tight, his hands gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles went white.

Silence hung thick between you, the kind that burned, that pressed against your chest like a vice.

Your breath was ragged, your entire body coiled tight.

You turned to him, eyes blazing. “You cannot be serious right now.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head once before glancing over at you. His eyes were still burning, still heated, but there was something else there, something desperate.

“I wasn’t about to let you leave like that,” he said, voice rough, quiet, like the fight had drained him, like the weight of everything was settling on his shoulders.

Your throat felt tight, too many emotions swirling all at once, too much heat, too much everything.

So you said the only thing you could.

“Then fucking fix it.”

Devin let out a sharp exhale, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he was using it to anchor himself. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked straight ahead, chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths—like he was trying to keep himself in check.

But you could feel it.

The tension. The heat radiating off him. The way his whole body was taut, wound up like a rubber band stretched too thin, about to snap.

You weren’t much better.

Your pulse was pounding, the remnants of the screaming match still hot in your veins, your hands clenched into fists in your lap. Your throat was raw, your face still flushed, your mind still replaying every little moment from the last hour—the argument earlier, the look on his ex’s face, the way Devin hadn’t immediately shut it down.

The way he’d practically thrown you in his car to stop you from leaving.

You were both breathing hard, like neither of you had fully come down from it yet.

The car was silent.

Thick, suffocating silence.

You weren’t sure who was going to break it first, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be you.

Devin finally inhaled, slow and deep, before gripping the gear shift and pulling out of the valet lane. His driving was steady—controlled—but you could tell he was barely holding it together. His jaw was clenched so hard you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.

Minutes passed.

The tension didn’t ease.

Not when he turned onto the highway. Not when the city lights blurred past the window in streaks of white and gold. Not when he let out another slow breath, his fingers drumming against the wheel like he was working through the thousands of things he wanted to say.

Then, finally—

“I wasn’t entertaining her.”

His voice was low, heavy, like he was forcing himself to say it.

You didn’t turn your head, your arms still crossed over your chest, your nails digging into your skin. “You didn’t stop her either.”

Devin’s hands tightened around the wheel. “I was about to.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you stared out the window. “Right. Sure. About to.”

His grip on the wheel twitched. “Don’t do that.”

You turned sharply toward him, eyes blazing. “Do what?”

“Act like I wanted any of that shit.”

“You didn’t stop it, Devin.” Your voice cracked on his name, and that—that was what really betrayed you. The heat of your anger was laced with something else now.

Hurt.

And he heard it.

He felt it.

His jaw ticked, his eyes flickering to you for the briefest second before returning to the road. “I was being polite.”

You let out another bitter scoff, your whole body twisting toward him now. “Polite?” You stared at him, incredulous. “Polite is saying ‘hi’ and moving the fuck on. Polite is not standing there, letting her laugh at every stupid thing you say, letting her touch you like—”

“She wasn’t touching me,” he snapped, his voice suddenly sharper.

Your heart dropped.

Your head tilted, your nails digging into your palms. “Are you—are you actually trying to tell me she wasn’t touching you?”

His throat bobbed. His fingers flexed against the wheel.

You knew Devin inside and out. You knew what every little movement meant, the way his body betrayed what his mouth wouldn’t say.

He knew he’d messed up.

Knew he’d let it go on too long.

And the fact that he wasn’t admitting it? That burned.

“Wow,” you muttered, voice hollow, shaking your head as you turned back toward the window. “Okay.”

Devin let out a breath through his nose, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. “I didn’t—fuck.” His voice cracked, frustration bleeding into it. “I wasn’t thinking, alright? I should’ve shut it down faster. I should’ve told her to fuck off the second she opened her mouth.”

You swallowed hard, willing yourself to stay angry, but your heart was hammering in your chest.

“But you didn’t,” you murmured.

Devin exhaled sharply, one hand coming off the wheel to rake through his hair.

“I didn’t,” he admitted, voice rough, like it physically pained him to say it. “I fucked up. I know I did.”

Silence.

You stared at your lap, your mind racing.

Devin glanced at you, his voice softer now, like he was trying to break through the wall you were putting up. “I wasn’t thinking. I swear to you, baby—I didn’t give a fuck about her. I don’t. I don’t.”

Your throat felt tight, your arms still crossed over your chest like they could somehow hold you together. “She still thinks she has a place in your life.”

“She doesn’t.” His voice was firm now, like he needed you to hear it. “And I’ll make sure she knows that.”

You closed your eyes for a second, inhaling deeply, trying to process everything. The fight. The way your emotions were still buzzing under your skin. The way Devin sounded so—so gutted now, so frustrated with himself, with you, with all of it.

The car slowed as he pulled onto the street leading to his house.

When he finally parked in the driveway, he turned the engine off but didn’t move. Didn’t look at you. Just gripped the wheel, his breathing deep, controlled.

Then, finally—

“I don’t ever want you to feel like that again.”

Your stomach twisted, your chest aching in a way that made it hard to breathe.

Devin turned, his dark eyes burning into yours, intense, raw. “You have to know that you’re it for me.”

You didn’t say anything, your throat too tight.

He reached for you then—soft, his fingers brushing against your hand, like he was waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t.

His voice was lower now, quieter. “Come inside?”

You hesitated for a second, your emotions still raw, but deep down, you wanted to. Because despite the fight, despite the way your heart still ached, he was Devin.

And Devin had never made you feel like you weren’t his.

So you swallowed hard, exhaled, and finally—finally—nodded.

His shoulders sagged slightly, relief flickering across his face, and he squeezed your hand, holding onto you like he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

And you?

You weren’t ready to let go either.

Devin didn’t waste a second. The moment you nodded, his hand slid into yours, warm and solid, his grip tight—like he was afraid you’d change your mind, like if he let go for even a second, you’d slip through his fingers.

He practically rushed around the car, opening the passenger door for you before you could do it yourself. The moment your feet hit the pavement, he was there, standing close, his presence heavy, his body heat radiating into yours.

Neither of you spoke as you walked inside.

The tension wasn’t gone. The fight still hung between you, thick and unrelenting, buzzing under your skin like a live wire.

But Devin wasn’t letting you go.

Not tonight. Not ever.

The front door shut behind you with a quiet click, and before you could take another step, his hand was on your wrist again—firm but not forceful, pulling you to a stop.

“Hey.”

His voice was soft now. Rough around the edges, strained, but softer.

You didn’t turn around immediately. You weren’t sure if you could without completely unraveling.

“Baby.” His fingers curled tighter around your wrist, like he was trying to pull you back, trying to pull you into him.

You swallowed hard, squeezing your eyes shut for a second before finally—finally—turning to face him.

And the second you did, Devin exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath this whole time.

He stepped closer, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheek, his touch hesitant—like he was waiting for you to push him away.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

You were so mad at him. You were still hurt. But Devin was Devin, and his touch had always had this way of grounding you, pulling you back to him, making it impossible to stay away.

His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I hate fighting with you.”

Your chest tightened. “Then don’t give me a reason to.”

His thumb traced slow, deliberate circles against your cheek, his lips parting like he had a million things to say but didn’t know where to start.

“I fucked up,” he finally murmured. “I know I did. And I swear to you, baby, I’ll never let that shit happen again.”

Your throat felt tight, emotions bubbling up again, but you forced yourself to speak. “It’s not even about her, Devin. It’s—” You swallowed hard, voice quieter now. “It’s about how I felt.”

His jaw ticked. “I know.”

“No, you don’t,” you said, shaking your head. “You don’t get what it’s like to stand there and watch someone act like you belong to them. You don’t get what it’s like to feel small in the middle of a room full of people because your boyfriend—the man who swears he loves you—isn’t stopping it.”

Devin flinched. Actually flinched.

Like your words physically hit him.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes for a second before exhaling sharply. “That’s not—fuck.” His grip on your waist tightened. “That’s not what I want you to feel. Ever.”

Silence.

His eyes searched yours, desperate, pleading, like he was trying to fix this just by looking at you.

And maybe—maybe—he was.

Because as much as you hated to admit it, the way he was looking at you was fixing something.

It wasn’t everything. But it was something.

You inhaled slowly, hands resting against his chest, fingers curling slightly into the soft fabric of his hoodie. “Then prove it.”

Devin nodded once, sharp, like he understood, like he’d already made the decision. “I will.”

You studied him for a second, your anger still there, still simmering beneath the surface, but your trust? That hadn’t broken.

Not yet.

Not with him.

He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, his voice a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t answer immediately. You let him wait, let him feel the weight of the moment, let him sit in the tension he had created.

Then, finally—finally—you nodded.

And the second you did, Devin didn’t hesitate.

His lips crashed into yours, desperate, needy, like he needed to feel you, needed to show you everything he hadn’t been able to say. His hands gripped your waist tight, pulling you flush against him, like he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch of space between you.

And you let him.

Because damn it, you needed it too.

The fight wasn’t over.

The anger wasn’t gone.

But right now? Right now, you just needed to feel him.

And the way Devin kissed you?

The way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered?

That was all you needed to know.

[mydearviserra]

Wanting more

╰┈➤ ❝ [ otto Hightower x Fem! Reader ]

Warning: affair, fingering, oral, first time sex, ,LONG one shot!

Note: Reader first time having sex so it’s written with innocence and guilt because Otto isn’t her husband. Lol this took me a week to write I’m writing better lol i didnt rush that bad with it

It’s exactly 2/13 11:50pm when I finished editing/ writing I know damn well I missed so much so tm I’ll fix it so don’t mind what my half exhausted mind wrote💔

How

How did I land myself in such position

I couldn’t remember the first time i kissed him, I was too drunk at the feast to even remember. One simple kiss landed me almost many moons later with Otto behind my legs, staring down at me as he held back from wanting to grip off my nightgown with his teeth like a damn animal.

Daemon never looked at me the way Otto does, nor have I scene daemon since our wedding feast. The thought of never consummating our marriage made me feel a bit in my stomach but now that Otto is ready to eat me alive i felt the pit burning a hole through my body

Otto's breathing grew heavier as he cupped between her legs, feeling the heat emanating from their most intimate area even through the fabric of her smallclothes. His fingers began to move, rubbing and stroking along the outside of the garment, tracing the contours of her most sensitive parts.

A twinge of guilt pricked at Otto's conscience, knowing this was wrong, that he should not be touching a married woman in such a lewd manner. But his lustful urges overpowered any sense of propriety or familial decorum. He told himself that this is what they both wanted. How much i craved to be touch and longed by a man, I wound have never guessed it’ll be Otto. Days I tried to discuss my, needs to daemon. The most recent time he brought a whore into his chambers while I was trying to have this discussion with him. For Otto, Women was the least concern after his wife passed he imagined he’d never lust for another again. Let alone now in the most scandalous way, unbecoming of his title as hand of the king he’ll lust for a married woman. Daemon women, yet deep in Otto heart he felt so alive in this moment. The thrill of his fingers caressing the folds of her, her untouched pussy made him want to cum in his pants at the thought.

Otto's other hand slid under the covers, finding my bare thigh. He caressed the smooth, soft skin, relishing the feel of it beneath his calloused fingers. His hand moved higher and higher, pushing up her nightgown as he went. Soon, he was cupping my bare core, feeling the warmth of it against his palm. A finger traced along my slit, feeling the delicate folds.

Otto's manhood throbbed almost painfully in his breeches as he touched her so inappropriately. He ached to free himself, to plunge into her most secret place and claim her as his own. But he resisted the urge, not wanting to startle he saw how sensitive she was to his simple touch. Face bright red while her gaze looked away what she didn’t hide was soft, eager moans escape her soft parted lips. 

Instead, he continued to fondle and caress her core, his finger circling around her sensitive pearl. He could feel the dampness beginning to gather there, the proof of her body's response to his touch. Otto's breathing grew ragged as he touched her, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Otto murmured under his breath, more to himself. "And all mine for the taking..." He smiled wickedly to himself, his mind already conjuring up all the deliciously depraved things he wanted to do to her body

Otto please talk be through it

Daemon will forgive me

He has his own play things, I shall have mine

Otto shall be my toy..

Otto's own body reacted to the sound of her moan and the feeling of her slick arousal coating his fingers. Otto began to move his fingers more purposefully, rubbing and circling her sensitive pearl as he slid one long finger inside her tight, wet heat. He groaned softly at the feel of her walls clenching around his invading digit, as if trying to pull him in deeper. His manhood throbbed almost angrily against the confines of his breeches, a damp spot forming where the head leaked pre-cum.

"Look at me- now. ," Otto murmured, his voice low and rough with lust. "Tell me to stop okay? This is for your pleasure”

“Keep going..please don’t stop..” my voice trembling with slight guilty, the awakening of pleasure slowly brewing inside of me it felt like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Once I opened my eyes turning my head to meet his gaze he continued again . 

Otto worked a second finger into dripping pussy, pumping them in and out, curling them to rub against that spongy spot on the front wall of her core. His thumb continued to circle and rub my clit, making my hips twitch and jerk

Otto's other hand slid up to cup and knead my breast, feeling the soft weight of it in his palm. He brushed his thumb over the peak, feeling it stiffen and harden under his touch. He longed to take her nipple into his mouth and suckle hard, but he resisted the urge. Instead, he focused on bringing closer to the edge with his fingers, fucking her harder and faster, his digits glistening with her arousal.

“O-oh! Oh gods! Otto! I can’t-“ I quickly cover my mouth to hide screaming of pleasure, the guilt was eating me alive as i clenched around his fingers. My body began tensing, breathing growing more ragged as I practically gasp to hide the sinful moans. I pulled my hands that once grip onto the sheets to travel move my hands onto your breasts, needing and pitching over the night grown

"That's it, my little dove," he encouraged, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Touch yourself just like that. Imagine it's my hands on your body, worshipping every inch of your luscious curves." He watched shamelessly as I fondled my breasts, I bit onto my lips as I saw his own hand slid under her nightgown to grope and squeeze the bare flesh of my breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm. He rolled the nipple between his fingers, tugging and plucking at it until it was red and throbbing. Pulling my hands away to let him go on

“Otto- please I..I can’t I need too-“ I fumbled my words i couldn’t even complete the sentence as an unfamiliar feeling swirling in my stomach. Otto could feel my body tensing, my inner muscles fluttering wildly around his plunging fingers as he broughtmr closer and closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear as he growled,

"Come for me, I want to feel you come undone on my fingers, want to feel your sweet little pussy spasm and clench as you scream your release. Give yourself to me, my dove . Let me feel you come apart."

With that, Otto rubbed my clit harder and faster, his fingers pumping into me at a relentless pace as he pushed over the edge. He could feel my body stiffening. My body went rigid, my back arching sharply off the bed as a strangled cry tore from her throat.

"A-Otto! Oh, gods, Otto!"i wailed, my inner walls clamping down viciously around his plunging fingers as I came undone. My juices gushed out around his hand, soaking his fingers and dripping down onto the sheets beneath you.

Otto groaned gutturally as he felt my velvet soft walls spasming and fluttering wildly around his fingers, her pleasure dripping out and coating his hand. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, drawing out her climax for as long as possible, relishing every clench and shudder of her sex.

"That's it," Otto panted harshly, his own arousal throbbing almost painfully in his breeches. "Come for me, scream my name, let all of the castle know who makes you feel this way." He rubbed her clit firmly, circling the sensitive nub as her orgasm crashed over her in waves.

As my climax began to subside, my body going boneless and slumping back against the mattress, Otto slowly withdrew his soaked fingers from my dripping core He brought them to his mouth, making a show of licking my essence from each digit, his eyes never leaving my face.

"Delicious," Otto murmured, his voice rough with lust. "You taste even sweeter than I imagined, my dove ." He licked his lips, his gaze roaming hungrily over my disheveled form, taking in the way my chest heaved with each ragged breath, the way my nightgown was hiked up around my waist to reveal the glistening flesh of her core. "I know this is all so new and overwhelming for you, but I swear, I will make you feel pleasure beyond your wildest dreams."

"You want to taste more, don't you, my princess?" Otto murmured, his thumb circling her clit, making you gasp and shudder. "You want to wrap your sweet little mouth around my cock, to feel it throbbing against your tongue as you take it deeper and deeper into your throat?"

Yes! Oh please yes

“I do..oh please I do”

Otto's other hand reached down to wrap around his straining erection, pumping it slowly as he watched my face for her reaction. He could feel the thick vein on the underside pulsing with each beat of his heart, could feel the silky steel of his shaft as he stroked it. My teeth sinked harshly against my lip, almost enough to cause blood.

"I want to feel your lips stretched wide around me, want to fuck your pretty face until I paint your throat with my seed," Otto growled, his hips rocking into his fist. "Would you like that, my dove ? To taste my cock, to swallow down every drop of his essence?"

I nodded eagerly , a moan escaping as Otto's thumb circled ny sensitive clit, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I couldn't believe what i was feeling, the overwhelming urge to touch myself, to taste Otto, to have his cock in my mouth. But the ache between my legs was too intense to ignore.

"Yes," my voice barely above a whisper. "I want to taste you, Otto. I want to feel your cock in my mouth, want to make you feel good." I licked my lips, my gaze locked on his thick shaft, watching as it throbbed and leaked precum. "Teach me how to please you," i added, a hint of shy eagerness in my voice.

Otto's eyes darkened with lust at my breathless confirmation, a feral grin spreading across his face. He released his shaft and reached out to grasp her chin, tilting her face up to look at him. His thumb brushed over her plump bottom lip, tracing the delicate curve.

"That's my good girl," Otto praised, his voice a low, approving rumble. "I'm going to teach you everything you need to know to be a perfect little cock slut for me." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, "First, start by wrapping your hand around the base of my shaft. Feel how thick it is, how hard it is for you."

Otto guided my small hand to his throbbing erection, wrapping my fingers around the thick base. He groaned at the feel of my soft skin against his aching flesh, his hips jerking slightly at my touch. His cock was so engorged and stiff that he could feel every ridge and vein pulsing beneath her palm.

"Now, start stroking it," Otto instructed, his voice strained with desire. "Move your hand up and down the shaft, squeezing gently. Explore every inch of it with your fingers." He demonstrated the motion with her hand, helping her stroke him from base to tip and back again.

As I began to pump his cock with clumsy enthusiasm, Otto reached down with his other hand to grip himself at the root, pointing his shaft towards my face. Drops of precum oozed from the flared head, dripping onto my parted lips.

"Open your mouth, princess," Otto commanded, rubbing the leaking tip

My lips parted obediently, my tongue darting out to lap at the bead of precum drooling from the swollen head of Otto's cock. I shuddered at the unfamiliar taste, a jolt of electricity shooting through the intimate contact. The musky, slightly salty flavor exploded on my tongue, making me want more.

"Good girl," Otto praised, his voice a low, approving growl as he felt her tongue flick against his sensitive flesh. "Now take the head into your mouth. Wrap your lips around it and suck gently."

I did what I was told, my soft lips engulfing the broad crown of Otto's shaft. I could feel it throbbing against my tongue, could taste the salty precum leaking steadily from the tip. Hesitantly at first, i began to suckle, my cheeks hollowing slightly as i drew on the head of his cock.

"That's it, princess," Otto encouraged, his hand coming to rest on the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair. "Take more of it into your mouth. I want to feel your hot little throat squeezing around me."

Obediently, i opened her jaw wider and took another inch of Otto's thick length into my mouth. I could feel it stretching my lips, pressing against the roof of my mouth as she struggled to accommodate him. The taste of his skin, the weight of his shaft on my tongue, was dizzying.

"More," Otto demanded, his hips rocking slightly to push himself deeper into the wet heat of my mouth. "Take it deeper, my dove . I know you can do it."

I relaxed her throat and took another few inches, feeling the head of Otto's cock pressing against the back of my throat. I gagged slightly, my throat convulsing around the intrusion, but I didn't pull away. Instead, i focused on breathing through her nose and relaxing my muscles.

"That's my good girl," Otto praised, his voice strained. "Your mouth feels so fucking good wrapped around my cock. I can't wait to feel your tight little pussy squeezing me just as nicely." He began to slowly thrust into her mouth, fucking her face with shallow pumps of his hips

Otto groaned as he felt my throat constricting around his sensitive cockhead with each thrust, the tight, rippling flesh massaging him exquisitely. He could feel my hands coming up to grasp his thick thighs for balance as he slowly hilted himself deeper and deeper into my hot, willing mouth.

I fear I might crave Otto

A sin to want another man

My untouched body ruined by Otto and yet..I’m happy it’s him

I want to be pleased by a man, not a spoiled prince

"That's it, princess," Otto grunted, his fingers tightening in her hair as he hit the back of her throat. "Take it all like a good girl. I want to feel myself buried in your tight little throat."

He began to thrust more firmly, his heavy balls slapping against my chin with each pump of his hips. Drool began to leak from the corners of her stretched lips, dripping down onto her nightgown as Otto fucked her pretty face with increasing fervor.

Otto could feel the pressure building at the base of his spine, his climax approaching rapidly. The sight of his innocent stepdaughter, her cheeks bulging obscenely as he used her mouth, was almost too much to bear. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself to the hilt and paint her throat white with his seed.

But he held back, wanting to drag out this moment for as long as possible. Instead, he pulled out abruptly, his slick shaft slapping wetly agains her cheek, leaving a smear of saliva and precum on her soft skin.

"Enough," Otto said, his voice ragged and rough with barely controlled lust. "I need to be inside your other tight little hole now. I need to feel your pussy squeezing me as I fuck you."

He grabbed my wrists and pushed me down on the bed. In a flash, he had ripped my nightgown off over my head and tossed it aside, leaving me bare and exposed beneath him. His hungry gaze raked over my nubile body, taking in every dip and curve.

"Spread your legs for me, princess," Otto commanded, settling himself between her thighs. The thick head of his cock nudged against her dripping slit, smearing her juices along her folds. "I'm going to fill you up now, going to claim this sweet little hole as mine."

I gasped as Otto manhandled me, a thrill of fear and excitement shooting through my as he exposed me completely naked body to his ravenous gaze. I had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another person. But as Otto loomed over me,I couldn't deny the heat pooling between my thighs, the aching emptiness that craved to be filled.

With shaking hands, I reached down to spread my legs, opening myself completely to him. I could feel the cool air of the chamber kissing my most intimate places, making me shiver. The slick, swollen lips of my hole glistened in the candlelight, dripping withmy arousal.

"Please, Otto," i whimpered, my voice small and breathy with need. "I've never... I mean, I don't know if I can take something so big inside me."

Despite my nervousness, I arched my hips up slightly, seeking more of that delicious friction against my aching core. I could feel the thick head of Otto's cock nudging against my entrance, the heat of it searing me even as it made me quiver with anticipation.

Otto growled low in his throat at the sight of her pristine, untouched hole laid bare before him. He could see her rosebud fluttering nervously, her dewy petals quivering with each shallow breath she took. The knowledge that he would be the first, the only man to ever claim this sweet prize, only inflamed his lust.

"Shh, don't worry, my dove ," Otto soothed, even as his hips rocked forward to notch the broad crown of his shaft inside her tight entrance. "I'll be gentle... at first. Tell me when it’s to much okay? my perfect dove” ."

With that, Otto began to push forward, the thick head of his cock stretching my virgin passage. Her slick walls clung to him desperately, fluttering and rippling as they struggled to accommodate his girth. Inch by excruciating inch, he sank deeper into her hot, silky depths.

I cried out, my back arching off the bed as I was stretched wider than j ever thought possible. Pain and pleasure warred within me. My cries of pain and pleasure intermingled as Otto slowly, inexorably pushed himself deeper into me. My slick inner walls strained and stretched around his thick, pulsing shaft, the wet heat enveloping him like a velvet vise.

"That's it, princess," Otto grunted, sweat beading on his brow from the effort of holding back, of not simply rutting into her tight little hole with wild abandon. "Take my cock. Let it reshape you, mold you to fit me perfectly."

He could feel every quiver and clench of her untried walls, could feel the way her body fought to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being filled so completely for the first time. The knowledge that he was the one to take her innocence, to claim her so thoroughly, only spurred on his lust.

Otto paused when he felt the thin barrier of her hymen stretching taut against the ridge of his cockhead. He looked down at her flushed, panting face, saw the way her eyes were clenched shut in concentration and slight pain. With a swift, sharp thrust of his hips, he breached her, tearing through the fragile membrane and burying himself to the hilt in one stroke.

I screamed, my voice echoing off the chamber walls as searing agony exploded through my lower body. Tears sprang to my eyes, leaking down my temples as i thrashed beneath Otto, trying to escape the overwhelming pain and pressure. Her hands scrabbled at his back, nails digging into his skin, but Otto was unmoving, pinning her down as he waited for her to adjust.

"Shh, it's done," Otto murmured, his voice a dark rumble in his chest. "You're mine now, princess. My little virgin dove, claimed and deflowered" He rolled his hips, grinding his pelvis against hers as he savored the feel of her impossibly tight sheath gripping him like a fist. "No man will ever fill you like I can. No one will ever make you feel as good as I will."

I whimpered and trembled beneath Otto, my body wracked with a maelstrom of sensations too intense and overwhelming for me inexperienced nerves to process. The pain of my lost innocence slowly began to ebb, morphing into a strange, aching emptiness that craved to be filled once more. My walls fluttered weakly around the thick intruder stretching me open, still trying to adjust to the foreign sensation of being so utterly claimed.

Tears streaked down my flushed cheeks as I gazed up at Otto with wide, trusting eyes. Despite the pain and the sheer size of him inside me,I couldn't deny the flickers of pleasure sparking through my as he ground against my most sensitive places.my breath hitched as a particularly firm roll of his hips sent a jolt of heat straight to my core.

"I... I feel so full," I whimpered "So big and hard inside me. I never knew it would be like this."

I could feel every throb and twitch of Otto's shaft as it pulsed within me , could feel the weight of his heavy balls pressing against my bottom. The knowledge that he had taken me , claimed me , branded her as his own sent a dark thrill through me.

I would hear daemon fuck his whores though they were never as loud as I was

I felt better knowing the difference between them

I took a shuddering breath, my slick inner muscles clenching reflexively around Otto's thick length. "Please... please don't stop," i whispered, my voice ragged with need. "I want to feel more. I want you to... to fuck me, Otto. Make me yours completely."

As I spoke those bold words, I wrapped my legs around Otto's waist, locking my ankles at the small of his back. The movement caused ny hips to tilt up, taking him impossibly deeper into my tight, grasping sheath. I could feel him in her belly, could feel the head of his cock kissing my womb with each twitch and throb.

"Ruin me for any other man- ruin me like my husband should have done,"I breathed, my eyes burning into Otto's with a newfound hunger. "I'm yours, Otto. My body is yours to use for your pleasure. Please... please fuck me hard and fill me up until I can't take anymore."

A dark, feral grin split Otto's face, his eyes glinting with triumph and unbridled lust. He had waited so long to hear those words from her sweet lips, to know that she was finally his to claim and take as he pleased. And now, with her legs wrapped around him and her tight little hole gripping his cock like a silken vise, Otto knew he would not hold back any longer.

"As my dove commands," Otto growled, his voice a low, approving rumble. He leaned down to capture her l. ips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to stake his claim on her once more. At the same time, he drew back his hips until only the tip of his shaft remained inside her, before slamming forward to bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

I cried out into the kiss, my scream of pained pleasure muffled by Otto's demanding mouth. My back arched sharply off the bed as he began to move, each powerful thrust of his hips driving the air from my lungs and sending shockwaves of sensation crashing through me. The wet, obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the chamber as Otto pistoned into me , fucking me with deep, relentless strokes that shook the very bed beneath them.

"That's it" Otto panted against her lips, his breath hot and ragged. "Take my cock. Feel it splitting you open, stretching this greedy little hole around my thick shaft." He punctuated each word with a sharp, driving thrust, grinding his pelvis against hers as he hit her cervix dead on.

I could only cling to Otto, my fingers scrabbling at his sweat-slicked back as he used my with wild abandon. Each drag of his cock against my sensitive walls sent bolts of searing pleasure shooting through her, stoking the heat building rapidly in her core. I could feel my body beginning to tense, my muscles drawing taut as a bowstring as my climax approached.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I chanted mindlessly, too lost in sensation to care how wanton i sounded. "Don't stop, Otto! Harder, please! I'm... I'm going to...” my words dissolved into a wordless scream as my orgasm crashed over me, my whole clamping down around Otto's

My scream of ecstasy echoed through the chamber as my climax finally overtook me, my untouched body convulsing wildly beneath Otto's relentless onslaught. My slick inner walls clamped down around his plunging shaft like a vice, rippling and milking his length as if trying to draw him even deeper into my core. The sensation was almost too much for Otto to bear, the feel of her virgin pussy squeezing him so tightly, as if her very body was trying to keep him inside her forever.

"That's it, princess," Otto grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Come on my cock. Let me feel this sweet little hole spasming around me as you find your pleasure."

He pistoned into her harder, each thrust shaking the headboard and rattling the very frame of the bed. One hand reached down to grasp her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he yanked her into each savage thrust, while the other hand delved between their sweat-slicked bodies to find her swollen little clit.

Otto rubbed the sensitive nub in tight circles, feeling it throb against his fingertips as she shuddered and bucked beneath him. The added stimulation sent her hurtling into a second, even more intense climax, her scream of rapture piercing the air.

"That's my good girl," Otto praised, his hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. "You're going to come for me again and again until I fill this hungry little cunt with my seed."

He could feel his own release fast approaching, the coil of heat in his loins tightening to an unbearable degree. But Otto was determined to make her come one last time on his cock before he allowed himself the sweet relief of emptying his heavy balls inside her.

Leaning down, Otto captured one of her bouncing nipples between his teeth, sucking and biting at the sensitive bud as he pounded into her. His fingers moved from her clit to plunge into her dripping sex alongside his cock, pumping in and out of her fluttering channel as he fucked her through her peak.

My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming with pleasure as Otto drove my relentlessly towards yet another shattering climax.my mind was hazy, thoughts scattered to the wind, coherent only in the present moment - the feeling of Otto's thick shaft pistoning in and out of my dripping hole, his fingers toying with my sensitive clit, his teeth and tongue lavishing attention on my aching nipples.Each powerful thrust of his hips sent fresh waves of ecstasy crashing over me, my untouched body struggling to process the overwhelming onslaught of sensation.

As Otto's fingers plunged into her fluttering channel alongside his cock, she felt the coil of heat in her core tighten to an unbearable degree. Her inner muscles clamped down around the dual intrusions, gripping them like a silken vise as her climax built to a crescendo. She could feel every ridge and vein of Otto's shaft dragging against her sensitive walls, could feel the rough calluses of his fingers rubbing against her swollen, throbbing clit.

"I... I can't... too much..." i whimpered, even as my hips bucked feverishly to meet Otto's thrusts. Tears of rapture streamed down my face. I had never known pleasure could be this intense, this all-consuming. It was almost too much for her inexperienced body to bear.

Yet even as I teetered on the brink of her third climax, I found herself craving more. I wanted to feel Otto's hot seed flooding her depths, wanted to be marked and claimed and owned by him completely. With a final, keening cry, I came undone, my hole convulsing almost violently around Otto's pistoning length as my orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave.

"Otto!" I screamed, my voice raw and ragged with ecstasy. "Fill me, please! I want to feel your seed inside me. I want it, please!"

With a roar of triumph, Otto slammed into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as her pussy clamped down around him like a molten vise. The sensation of her velvet walls rippling and milking his shaft was too much for the battle-hardened knight to withstand. With a guttural groan, Otto let his climax overtake him, his heavy balls drawing up tight as they unleashed a torrent of hot, thick seed directly into her waiting womb.

I could feel the scalding heat of Otto's release flooding my insides, painting my untouched depths with his essence. Jet after jet of potent cum pumped into her, filling me so completely that I could feel it sloshing heavily in her belly as Otto ground against me , working his shaft to ensure every last drop took root inside her

"Fuck" Otto growled, his weight pressing down on her as he shuddered through the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. "Take my seed, my dove. Let it sink into your womb and take hold. You'll carry my child, I know it."

He captured her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his lust and dark satisfaction into the embrace. One large hand slid down to possessively cup her mound, fingers delving between her dripping folds to feel the way her abused flesh fluttered around his softening shaft.

"You're mine now, my dove," Otto murmured against her lips, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "Mine to fuck, mine to breed. I'll fill this sweet cunt with my seed again and again until your belly swells with my child."

He rolled his hips lazily, stirring the mixture of their juices inside her as he slowly softened inside her clutching heat. Even as the haze of lust began to recede, Otto made no move to pull out of her instead settling his weight more fully on top of her as he savored the intimate connection.

“If daemon can please his lady wife then I shall take his place- you’ll be mine my darling dove all mine”

There is probably to much to edit so I’ll do it in the morning I’m to stubborn lol

ANYWHOO more stores lined up for This coming weeks,

Under the moonlight( Valentine’s special, fluff, aemond)

Return home (cregan x Jace, fluff)

Cherry baby( Tywin, nsfw)

And unnamed daemon x Rhaenyra x reader UH HUH poly guys lol I’m like In the middle of this one so it’ll take a while for this one to be out

ANDDDD aegon x Rhaenyra

[kalisburnerphone]

Found // Song Mingi

Summary: in the madness of this world I’m glad I found you. When my heart don’t seem to work it’s you I turn to.

Warnings: idol!mingi x idol!oc who’s called Jules by those close to her. She’s older than him by 3 years. Fluff, slight angst. I’ll edit later but for now, don’t ask me what this is, I just wanted to write a little something for my baby given the way he’s been getting treated not only lately but always. I wrote this on 3hrs of sleep so I’m sorry if it doesn’t make sense. It’s also lowkey a little piece of a Mingi story I’ve been working on but who knows if it’ll ever see the light.

S/N: Happy Carat Day to any fellow carats/caratinys 🩷🩵

It takes a few minutes for Mingi’s mind to register your last text before he’s scrambling off his bed and rushing to the door to pull it open.There you are, the person he can confidently say is the love of his life. Without hesitation he’s pulling you inside and wrapping you up in his arms as soon as the door is closed. It had been months since he’s held you like this, both your schedules keeping you apart even throughout the holidays.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He whispers, face buried in the mess of curls atop your head. Your arms tighten around him, a kiss pressed to his shirtless chest, a silent response to his confession letting him know that the feeling was mutual. You both stay glued to each other a bit longer before he’s bending forward and picking you up, legs wrapped around his waist he’s moving you both to the bed and settling in with you.

“Hey you,” you speak softly not wanting to shatter the little bubble you’re both in. Both his cheeks are cupped in your hands as you look at him, his eyes, soft and shining with unshed tears as he looks at you. If it’s one thing you’ve always admired about your boyfriend was that he wasn’t afraid to show his vulnerability and at first it took some getting used to because it was something you found easy to do. Mingi was patient though, he let you set the pace but made it known that he wasn’t interested in just a casual thing with you. Don’t ask him how but he’d just known from the moment Wooyoung introduced you both that you were his person and he hasn’t had a single doubt about that in the almost two years you’d been together.

There was never much need for conversation in moments like this, you both somehow just always knew when the other was needed and after your last FaceTime call you just knew that something had happened. You hadn’t been online to see what was going on so you’d just assumed it was the boys usual antics that had him sulky but after Woo had spilled what had happened earlier that day, you’d quickly wrapped up your last schedules and hopped on a flight. The others had sent you updates but Hongjoong was the only one that knew you were coming.

“What’s wrong?” you question when he keeps looking at you.

“How much time do we have together?” Time, one of the biggest obstacles in your relationship. You both made it work but sometimes it gets to you both.

“Until the finale in Seoul.” you respond, pulling him closer to you and pressing kisses all over his face before you get to his lips. He’s pulling away much too fast for you and as you chase after his lips it’s his turn to chuckle at how cute you’re being.

“ no unexpected schedules that’s going to pull you away from me?” You shake your head no and it’s all it takes for him to put his lips back where they belong.

You both can’t help the way you melt into each other like a warm embrace on a cold night. You had group shit to deal with but right here in this moment is where you need to be. In the arms of the man who seen every side of you and loves them all unconditionally. With the man who never asks for your love but knows how to take it in the ways that you offer it. Mingi never needs you to tell him that you love him because it showed from the beginning when you had randomly started asking him if he ate and if he slept to sending him food or showing up with it yourself. He had quickly learned that that was just one of the many ways in which you showed your love. It’s the same way in which everyone sees you both as this cold,alpha male/female but only the ones closest to you know just how soft you both are, how much you both even each other out.

Just as your sweet little kisses start heating up there’s a knock on his room door that Mingi has have a mind to ignore had you not spoken up, “that must be Joong, I asked him to order me food cause I had to miss lunch and dinner.”

With a pouty little huff he gets off the bed and goes to the door only to be pushed aside as soon as it opens “I heard Jules is here?” You hear Wooyoung before you see him. He waltz into the room just as you’ve taken your coat off.

“Where’s Joong? And my food?” You question looking past him.

“He’s currently building Legos with Hwa on live so he asked San and I to get it. They’ll come by after though.” He says clearing up the table in the room such as San and Yunho enter with bags of not only food but drinks as well.

“Hey Jules.” They both greet as they enter, leaving your pouty boyfriend leaning against the entrance wall with his arms folded across his chest.

“Yuyu, Sannie” you call back as you make your way to your baby.

“Do they have a you sensor or something?” you laugh softly as you unfold his arms and link your hands together. A kiss to one cheek, then the other and then his nose. “ let them have their fun, I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s a whisper against his lips as you start pulling him back into the room but he halts pulling you back against him.

“I love you.”

“Forever and Always.”

“Always and Forever.”

[starkidlabs]

Kinda hate how weird men can ruin you passion for something.

[littlestsnicket]

eeee!!

[goblins-and-gloves]

Angry at parents hour!

Undiagnosed autistic fuckers are delulu.

[designernishiki]

hot take but. oda is honestly one of the most interesting prominent side characters in y0 to me. like. don’t get me wrong obviously i don’t condone his actions, but speaking as a character design guy, i think he’s got a whole lot of complexity to think about in his story and identity that people tend to ignore/overlook because he’s not a black and white “good” person. like no shit he’s morally fucked, that doesn’t mean his intense pining and crazed level of dedication to tachibana and the lengths all his guilt and repressed love for the man he saw as the best thing to ever grace his life drove him to aren’t interesting to think about– if anything it makes him more interesting. he was. really something

[tonycries]

Kiss Me More!

Synopsis. There’s always something that makes him lose control - and you love pushing those buttons.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rough séx, unprotected, bodyworshíp, stuff with pantíes, bréeding, slight exhíbitionism (Sukuna’s), Nanami and Geto are a bit mean, overstím, finger suckíng, dacryphília (Geto’s), pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.1k

A/N. Bro my laptop crashed thrice trynna write this um.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Raw?!”

Great, Toji thinks, he’s finally lost it.

Because sooner have the words left your swollen lips, all the blood goes rushing to his achingly hard cock - so swollen and already leaking hot precum all over your trembling thighs. Some dark, primal part of himself being poked so dangerously awake.

“Are ya sure, doll?” he breathes, and the words come out ragged - pained even. Like some part of himself wanted you to save no, was begging you to say no - for his own sanity. Because just the thought of your pretty lil’ cunt wrapped around his cock makes him feel lightheaded. “We don’t-”

“I wan’ to,” you give him a determined little nod. Spreading your legs further and oh Toji lets out a hoarse grunt at the heavenly sight. Hanging on your every word as you continue, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

That was hours ago - oh, how foolish you were. 

You never thought that those would be the words that make your poor boyfriend snap. That it would only take him just barely grazing his angry, weeping tip between your puffy folds. Up and down up and down up and- down went every rational thought. 

Too depraved. Too lost in the feeling of finally having you and your soft pussy and you-

“C-can’t believe you’ve been ngh- fuckin’ holdin’ out on m-me.” He was in heaven, making you cum over and over and-

And you were clawing limply at the drenched sheets, the headrest, Toji’s shoulders - just anything and everything for some semblance of sanity. 

“T-Toji-” you sob, “S’too much. I- ngh- can’t anymore-”

“Fuck! Been hah- holdin’ out on me.” he groans, like a mantra. Brows furrowing as he squeezes his swollen cock harder into your plushy walls. And if it was any other time then Toji might’ve almost been embarrassed at the way his sentence cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. Choking out, “One more- gimme j-jus’ one more.”

“But-” Big, fat tears roll down your burning cheeks as large fingers dip down to toy your sensitive clit between them - no rhythm or rhyme, just to get you off. “You said the p-previous one would ngh- b-be the last.”

Ah, you were so cute blabbering out little pleas. And the only response you get is a devilish smirk, Toji’s darkened, hooded eyes boring into yours as he hums, “Did I? I don’t remember.”

He did remember. Very well, in fact as he pushed you to your nth orgasm tonight. And it took everything in him to hold off his high as he fucked you through yours, whispering out hollow promises about it being the “last time” and just “one more”. 

“S’okay-” Toji nips playfully at your wobbling lips. Salty with the taste of your overstimulated tears. “One more- you can mmpf- cum f’me once more, right?” 

And Toji’s barely-there sense of rationality in him knows he should slow down. Ease up his bruising grp on your hips. Have at least some shred of concern as he fucks your quivering cunt rougher, like his personal sex toy more than anything. 

Yet, no, right now he couldn’t even think straight. Too focused on how your moans were so sweet. Lips so pretty screaming out his name. Snug cunt too fucking heavenly when you cum all over his cock, squeezing him like your slutty lil’ pussy was trying to milk the fucking soul out of him. So hard and addicted that Toji was hooked. 

You mewl a delirious little, “H-hooked?” Batting your hazy eyes up at the monster above you, who seemed well and fully intent on making you cum until you couldn’t anymore. “Y-you’re hooked?”

Whoops, did he say that out loud? Seems you weren’t the only one that was completely and utterly wrecked here. 

“Shhh,” Toji drops his head once more to kiss away your adorable pout - the one that only makes his balls squeeze so painfully. “Just focus on how ngh- fuckin’ food ya feel, pretty.” Fingers erratic on your throbbing clit, just soaked in your sweet juices. Moving deftly to spell out a messy T-O-J-I. Over and over and- “After all, this hah- pussy now belongs to me now, right?”

And it’s all you can do to give a delirious little nod, words slurring together as you hiss a low, “Y-yours- S’all for- ngh- you-” Hips bucking wildly underneath his strong figure. “Close- m’gonna cum, Toji-”

The only response you get is a guttural groan of what sounded like your name - followed shortly by a string of profanities as Toji speeds up his abuse on your cunt. One hand reaching out to grip onto the headboard, so hard that if you were in any better state of mind the two of you would have registered the sharp snap! 

The other almost-feverish on your poor clit - like it hurt to not have you cumming all over his cock now. Spelling his name over and over and-

“Oh I’ll let ya cum-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy now. Sounding like his sanity was dancing away every time his hips slapped bruisingly against yours. “Gonna make you c-cum so ha- hard you’ll forget everything else-”

You’re letting out strangled little gasps in response, hips torn between running away and fucking down for more more more-

“Fuck- hope you’re on the pill, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Painted white

“Whoops.”

Nanami well and fully thinks that it’s your fault he feels less of a man than some monster right now. He acts like it, too, holding back a sultry little smile as he fucks you deeper and deeper into the mattress. 

Close - too close. 

Close enough that he’s immediately pulling out of your snug cunt. So fucking difficult with the way you’re sucking him up so good - but oh was it worth it watching the way your swollen lips drop into a soft oh! Glassy eyes snapping down to catch the way he fucks his fist once, twice. Before spilling all over your swollen folds, painting you such an obscene white over and over and-

“Now now,” you can only keen in response as your husband hums lowly. Fist sliding languidly up and down his angry, red cock. “Guess we hafta hah- do it all over again, my love.” 

Yeah, definitely worth it with the way he had you all breathless and needy, your slutty lil’ pussy just begging to go over the edge - only to tease you at the very last second. God, it’s been like this for so long now. 

“So mean,” you give Nanami a little pout - one that has his still-painfully hard cock twitching so sensitively in his hand. Big, fat tears welling up in your eyes as you continue, “You’re being so ngh- mean, Ken.”

Oh, damn that little nickname - the exact same one you’d scream when you’re close. Damn the way you cock your head just right, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him.

Damn the way he snakes his hand down to the sinful little pool of cum spreading all over your lower stomach. Letting it trickle onto his fingertips - immediately shoving them between your lips to shut up those pretty lil’ moans. 

“Mean?” he manages to chuckle. Tips of his fingers pressing right at the back of your tongue. Slapping his swollen cock on your stomach, “Is this what you ah- wanted? Are ya happy now, my love?” 

The sight of you all teary and gagging around his fingers was almost as addictive as the sight of you covered in his cum. Almost. 

He sweeps his eyes all over where you were splayed out so prettily for him. Your glossy lips, the streaks of cum on your stomach, your chin, everywhere and anywhere - except where you wanted the most. 

It had started with an accident, really, when he’d pulled out a bit too early tonight. And fuck if Nanami didn’t think that sight of you all dripping and covereed with him was like the gates of heaven spread wide open all for him. A new, dangerous addiction. 

Which is why he’s pushing his fingers deeper, whispering out a ragged little, “Shit, you’re so messy.” Purposefully dragging his thumb across your lower lip to smear the mess everywhere. Your lips, your chin, inside. “So filthy.” He can’t even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. Dipping down the valleys of your chest, down, down down, to where his achingly hard tip was just kissing your quivering entrance now, “So perfect.” 

And without warning, Nanami’s splitting you apart on his massive cock once more. Jaw falling slack ever-so-slightly at the way you’re taking him up so readily - inch by fucking inch like it hurt to be apart.

“F-fuck,” you moan, the words broken as he starts moving inside - back to picking up that unforgiving pace from earlier, like he never stopped. “Hngh- s’too good- too full, Kento-”

“Awww, what happened to ‘Ken’?” Nanami cuts you off uncharacteristically. Hips slowing down to lazy, mindless little movements that have you gasping in protests. “Was gonna cum on your pretty face this time hah- s-seems you don’t want it, hm?”  

And ah, let it be known that Nanami Kento would burn down the world for his wife. 

But what fun it was to tease you - to have your mouth dropping in disbelief, eyes widening in your delirious state. Babbling out a broken, “No no no, Ken- hngh- wan’ you to cum inside.” Back arching off the bed, grappling pathetically for more more more- “To paint me white inside- Please?”

Oh, did you know how to push his buttons just right. Because how could Nanami deny you begging so prettily like that?

Because the sentence is barely out of your mouth before neat nails are digging into your hips as Nanami pulls your hips closer, milking his cock on your snug cunt - so hard he knew it would leave marks. His heavy balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, nails dragging down his bulging biceps as you moan his name. 

Whispering, breath hot against your ear, “You’re right.” Voice so strained and dark that you almost don’t recognize it as your husbands. “So, so right.”

Nanami’s index finger coming down to draw an invisible line right where he could feel his cock making a mess of you inside. 

“Ah! Ken, W-what-”

“You’re so right.” he’s breathing against your mouth, like a little prayer. Tasting the sweet candy of your lips and himself and you- “The next spot-” Pressing his finger down right on that spot, hard. Like he wanted to feel himself more than anything. “Will be here.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Pretty when you cry

“S-Sugu, are you okay?” you’re looking over your shoulder to ask. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing - except for Geto’s heavy breathing, and the lewd little squelches from down below, his swollen cock just barely sinking into your heavenly cunt. And you know it doesn’t bode well.

You’d be almost worried if it wasn’t for the way his eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown and just locked on that single, stray tear rolling down your cheek. Such a dark little glint in his gaze that had you wondering whether you should be concerned for him or yourself. 

Yet you manage to choke out a little, “Suguru?”

Ah that snaps him out of his little reverie, suddenly too-aware of your plushy walls sucking the soul out of his hot, angry head. 

With work, it’s been a while since Geto got to fuck your snug cunt - and you needed to breathe, maybe spread your legs more. Relax, because it was so fucking tight and Geto wasn’t even halfway. The stretch way too sinful. Too much. Your lips wobbling at how massive his cock was, and oh- was that another tear going down your pretty face?

You don’t even get to confirm because several things happen at once - immediately, he’s pushing his aching dick in one, harsh thrust. Head dipping down to pool the tears streaming on his hot tongue, groaning at the taste.

“O-oh.” you manage to grit out, feeling like Geto was pushing into your fucking lungs. “S’too big. Sugu, ah!”

“Shhhh, gorgeous.” he’s dragging his lips down your neck, fingers dancing down your body to roll your ravaged clit between them. “S’alrigh- ngh-” And you didn’t know whether he was reassuring himself more than you. “You got it. Y-you’ll take it- you always do, right?”

And he was right - but you’d forgotten how unforgiving Geto’s cock was. How unforgiving he was as he pries away your fingers gripping onto the headrest - trying pathetically to pull away from the pressure down below. 

Hah, he thinks, intertwining them so mockingly with his own, as if he’d let such a pretty lil’ thing like you escape. 

Romantic - the way this was supposed to be. 

Yet, now, Geto was fucking you like anything but. 

“You’re not trying to- fuck- run away,” he’s purring in your ear, rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit once. Twice. As if trying to will the answer out of you, “Right?” Not even waiting for your answer before reeling his hips back, all the way till his fat tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “After we hngh- haven’t done this in so-” Slamming his hips down. Harsh. “-long?”

And shit- he was acting like it, too. So depraved and filthy the way he was drinking up your cute lil’ moans, tasting your tears on his lips while he couldn’t decide between bruising your poor cervix and hitting that one spot. “T-too fuckin’ long, gorgeous.”

The only answer he gets is your sweet, simpering whine of “Sugu- Sugu Sugu- oh my god.” Back bowing off the bed because it’s gotten so much. “C-can feel you so deep inside.”

Really, how could Geto even think about stopping himself from kissing down your arched back? Looping two strong arms around your waist to pull you impossibly deeper down his cock. 

“Ah! Oh my god- Suguru!” you keen as he falls back on his knees with you in tow, your back against his muscled front. Spreading your legs to fuck up so mindlessly into you. Jagged, long thrusts, bouncing you like a toy on his aching cock. Rough. “So much- so- ngh-”

Ah, your pretty little cries are just music to his ears. Fuck, he forgot how pretty you looked when you were all breathless and crying on his cock.

“Such a cute lil’ actress.” he coos, voice going up each time his heavy balls smack your ass. Fingers drawing such tight little circles on your throbbing clit. “Love these hah- pretty tears.”

“S-So mean, Sugu-” you’re choking as his thrusts get purposeful - calculated. Hitting that one magical spot he’ll never forget no matter what. Over and over and over while all you can do is cry out teary moans of his name.

Thigh quivering at the sheer stimulation, “Yeah- yeah, jus’ like that.” And oh Geto wishes he could taste down there, too. But instead settles for doing that later - getting those sweet, overstimulated tears out of you. “My gorgeous girl, cryin’ on my cock. Ngh- gonna cum f’me?” Pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your forehead - the complete opposite of his hips. “Gonna c-cry while you’re mm- cumming all over my cock?”

And as if he really really wanted to see it - Geto’s only getting sloppier. 

So embarrassing with the way he was whispering out sweet little degradations in your ear, guiding you closer and closer. 

So embarrassing with the way he eagerly watched all your minute reactions.

So embarrassing with how you cum exactly the way he wanted you to - teary and breathless. A quick scream of Geto’s name before you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. 

Cunt clamping down so deliciously on his cock. So dizzying that you barely even register the hot tongue lapping at the fresh wave of tears.

“Ah, as perfect as I hah- imagined.” Geto grits out, sounding every bit absolutely wrecked. “Now I jus’ n-need to know if you’ll cry as much when m’filling you up.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just the tip.”

“Hngh- f-fuck, baby.” he whines into your open mouth, strong hands pulling your trembling hips impossibly closer to his. “J-jus’ a bit deeper- only a bit deeper, I promise.”

Ah, if only you weren’t split apart so deliriously on Choso’s cock you might’ve been able to actually form a coherent sentence to- what? Snap at him? Beg him for more?

You don’t even know at this point, because it’s been like this for so long now, and Choso promised it would be just his weeping tip. He promised it would be quick and he just “wanted to feel his girl’s pretty pussy.” Over and over again as he pushed your legs all the way until they were pressed against your tits, heels pressing into the mattress as he slides his massive cock even deeper-

“Cho!” you yelp, feeling the thump! thump! thump! of those prominent veins down the side rub against all the right spots. “You said-”

“I know I know, m’sorry.” he gasps. Brows scrunching as he nevertheless bullies his cock deeper inside your gummy walls. Choso’s cock too big, the stretch too sinful. Dropping his head to kiss your bruised lips, “M’sorry, jus’ a bit more. Jus’ a bit- hah- a bit deeper-”

And oh, he shouldn’t have done that. 

Shouldn’t have let himself that last bit of freedom, because he sinks only a bit more into your heavenly cunt - so dripping wet and milking the soul out of him - that Choso can’t help but think he wants more. 

“Baby…” Choso purrs hotly against your ear, hips thrusting in slow, shallow little grinds - and you already know too well what he’s about to beg for.

“Cho.” you groan, warningly. “You said j-jus’ the ngh- tip.”

“Awww.” he groans. So fucking pretty with his long hair undone, some strands sticking to his flushed skin. Eyes hazy and miles away as he looks at you through those long, dark lashes. “Jus’ a bit ngh- more? Promise I’ll pull out.” As if to support his case, one hand gently tilts your head up to press chaste pecks at the corner of your lips. The other starting to toy with your ravaged clit, “Please?”

And how could you say no to that? 

Especially not when Choso digs his knees deeper into the sheets, rock-hard cock dragging so agonizingly against your walls as he reels his hips back, back, back-

Splitting you apart all in one, harsh thrust. 

It’s all you can do to whine out a pathetic, “O-oh fuck- fuck! S’too deep.” The stretch too sinful, his cock too massive. Tears springing to your eyes as he immediately starts fucking you in quick, ragged movements - not even easing you into it like he usually would. 

“M’sorry, baby.” Choso sounds so fucking wrecked, voice as rough as his hips now. “M’sorry m’sorry. Promise I won’t cum inside. Jus’ a bit more- some- some more-”

And for all the remaining sanity you had left, you didn’t know how promises of “just the tip” turned into empty wishes that neither of you had the patience - nor the sanity - to fulfill right now. 

“Please.” you arch your hips off the bed - and nothing more has to be said, because Choso reads that lust-drunk little plea in your eyes. “Ch-Cho-”

“A bit more.” he lets out a humorless little laugh. Reaching above to lace his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down, down, down impossibly deeper onto his painfully hard cock in a pathetic little cadence to match his. “Jus’ a bit- more.”

It was driving him insane. 

And for all his apologies, Choso isn’t one bit shy when rocking his hips harder into yours. So bruising with the way he leaves marks on your waist, your tits, probably even your poor cervix. Whispering out mindless little promises of pulling out and nonsense about going “jus’ a bit deeper”.

“F-fuck, wan’ you to cum, baby.” The bed is creaking in protest as Choso picks up the pace so sloppily. Hips stuttering and uneven with how fucking good it felt - but hitting the right spots every time. His hands snaking down to roll your sensitive clit between his fingers again. “Cum f’me. Please?”

And it seems that Choso had a penchant for getting what he wanted. 

Because no sooner do the words leave his rosy lips, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. Blood roaring in your ears, mixing with Choso’s broken little praises as he fucks you through peak after peak of your high. 

Over and over and-

“Sorry-” your eyes snap open at that familiar little phrase falling from his lips. One that you knew didn’t bode well for you or your poor cunt. “Sorry sorry sorry-” Thrusting, once. Harsh. Twitching so wildly inside you that just one more squeeze and he’d be- “C-can I ngh- cum inside, baby?” 

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - A lil’ show

It only takes that first, broken little moan escaping your swollen lips and you already know you won’t make it out intact - nor will Sukuna’s sanity, apparently. 

Because no sooner has that sinful noise left you, Sukuna’s eyes glaze over, jaw dropping so uncharacteristically into a soft oh! Aching dick twitching wildly inside you, hips stuttering against yours as he breathes out, “What was that?”

He doesn’t have the patience to wait for your response - instead, squeezing his swollen cock deeper, fucking all the air - and the words - out of you. 

Which, unfortunately for you, wasn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for. 

“Aww, c’mon.” the words are groaned into the crook of your neck, sending jolts of electricity all the way down to your dripping cunt. “Give me more ngh- of those-” Large hands tightening on your hips, shifting you around on where you were sat so prettily on Sukuna’s lap. “-pretty moans, brat.”

So that’s what he wanted.

And this was supposed to be something slow. Something lazy, and languid to get the king of curses off before that droning meeting today with his underlings - to take the edge off so that he probably won’t end up killing them all off.

Something it was not supposed to be was Sukuna spreading your legs so shamefully, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his cock. Trying to find the angle that’s just right to rip those cute lil’ moans out of you.

“C’monnnn.” he gives short, sloppy little thrusts up into your heavenly cunt. “Where is-”

Then suddenly you’re wrapping your arms tighter around Sukuna’s neck, “Ngh! Oh fuck-” Teeth digging into his muscled shoulder, hard - hard enough that it might’ve drawn blood if this wasn’t the king of curses himself. 

“Found it.” And it’s all that’s said before he’s reaching down to spread your puffy folds further, eyes flicking between your wobbling lips and the way your tight pussy was sucking him up so good. Watching the way his massive cock was disappearing in and out in and out in and- “What? Not gonna hah- scream my name anymore?”

“B-because, Kuna-” you gasp, face burning at the way your thighs tremble with the effort to pathetically to meet his unforgiving pace. “They- they’re close.”

Humming in amusement, “Who?”

“Them!” you’re keening - and both of you know you’re talking about those footsteps outside, the thought of Sukuna’s meeting weighing much more on your mind than his. So you’re limply grazing your lips against his, trying to muffle those whimpers falling from your lips. “They’re g-gonna ngh- hear?”

“So?”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - Sukuna’s response or the way he’s increasing his pace relentlessly. Trying to pull those sweet sweet moans from you, no care or concern for the ever-closing footsteps outside. 

“I don’t care.” he groans, back arching off the sticky seat of his throne to fuck up into your sloppy hole deeper. “You’re ngh- above them, y’know.” Bouncing you like such a slut on his cock, “So what if they h-hear?”

And God you don’t know who’s more fucked-out right now - Sukuna, who was speaking mindless little nonsense into your ear, or you. Whiney and a mess, tugging on his soft locks - a warning.

One that the man himself blatantly ignores, instead having one hand reach down to roll your throbbing clit between his fingers. 

“Hngh- fuck!”

The moan escapes you before you can bite down on Sukuna’s neck, right above his racing pulse to muffle it. 

“Heh,” shivers run down your spine as Sukuna’s chest rumbles with a laugh. Pulling your lolling head away to crash his lips against yours. Panting into your open mouth, “Sneaky. But they’re only getting closer and-” Rocking his hips harder. Bruising. “-m’only getting more impatient.”

And then he’s fucking up into you with reckless abandon. Smirk spreading at that little ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hits that one spot. 

You’re sure that if whatever unfortunate soul was outside couldn’t hear your delirious moans then they could definitely hear the lewd slap of skin on skin. Fast, so unforgivingly loud. His fingers just a blur on your clit. Just taunting those little moans out of you.

You’re gasping at the sheer stimulation, “Y-you’re so-”

“So what?” Sukuna spits into your mouth, “Don’t start ngh- sentences ya can’t finish, brat. Though-” His sharp eyes flicker towards the door, much more aware than whatever hazy mess was left of your senses. “I don’ think you’ll be able f-finish any of them soon enough.”

Barely even giving you the chance to register his words, you’re tilting your head in confusion up at him and-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Oh, shit. 

“Come in.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Blue blue blue!

It’s times like this - your blue lingerie almost in tatters, Gojo pushing you into such a tight mating press, filling up your poor pussy over and over - that you wonder when bones will start breaking.

Well, not that your boyfriend would mind either - he wouldn’t mind having to use a bit of reverse cursed technique on what was supposed to be a lazy little cockwarming session. Instead, too focused on how your cunt was sucking him up so good. His cum inside you so warm, the stretch so sinful, your lingerie too blue-

“Heh, what? C-can’t ngh- speak, sweetheart?” Gojo lets out a humorless little laugh. Fingers deftly hooking under your bra strap to give a sharp little snap! “You’re the one that a-asked for this, after ngh- all.”

“B-But, Toru-” you gasp, and it only has Gojo ramming his cock into you deeper. Awe-struck at how you were already so bloated with his cum, but still taking him so well. “Wasn’t on p-purpose-”

“This wasn’t on purpose?” And you know what he’s talking about - that barely-there fabric - the exact shade of his eyes. Only one glance at it had Gojo feeling like something snapped - possibly his restraint, maybe his sanity. Definitely you by the end of this. “This?” 

And you can’t even act coy - you don’t get the chance to. 

Because Gojo’s immediately got his hands everywhere. On your swollen breasts, your hips, the hem of your panties that he just barely had the patience to slide aside before stuffing you full. 

“Y-yes?” you ask, deliciously. Cunt clenching so sinfully around his throbbing cock in- fear? Anticipation? As he looked down so starved at you. 

“F-fuck. Ya shouldn’t have done this.” Gojo’s dragging his lips down your neck, soft. The exact opposite of how bruising his hips were of yours. “Oh, ya shouldn’t have done this-” Lewd curiosity getting the best of him as he dips his hand lower, pressing down just slightly on your lower stomach. “Because now,” Those blue eyes widening at the way his cum gushes down your legs, down his legs. “-m’not gonna let you go until I fuckin’ ruin these.”

And if you were in any better state of mind you could’ve almost laughed - because Gojo was acting like the soaked, flimsy fabric hanging around your body wasn’t already far, far past any salvation. 

No, he was fucking you like he was going to ruin them all over again. Tightening your legs thrown over his shoulders, folding you in half like some ragdoll as he bends down, down, down-

RIP!

You’re gasping at the sharp tear of fabric, one that you barely hear over the fucking obscene squelches from below. “T-Toru-” you squeal, ankles locking in warning. “These ngh- w-were expensive.”

“So?” And for all the world, Gojo has the audacity to sound so genuinely confused. Whispering a soft oh! as he angles his head just right to catch that sinful little tear in your panties. “Whoopsies.”

But, really, what your unregretful boyfriend was actually focusing on was how fucking illegal it should be for you to look this heavenly - legs shaky and limp, his seed forming a lewd little pool. Marked like you were fucking thrown to wolves, but, no, it was actually Gojo Satoru and he couldn’t fucking get enough-

“Five.”

The word comes out abruptly, strangled like Gojo himself was as bewildered as you as he suddenly blurts it out. 

And at your - fucking adorable - look of confusion, he’s kissing away the pout at your lips, murmuring hoarsely, “M’gonna buy you five more of these.”

That’s all that’s said before he’s only rocking his hips harder, feeling more of a fucking monster than he did when he was on the battle field. Wondering whether he’d have to buy a new fucking bed too with the way it was creaking under the pure power. 

And, well, it made some tiny, sadistic little part of Gojo delight to see the effect it had on you. Sweet moans of his name leaving your lips each time he draws rapid circles on your pretty clit. Hips fucking back down to meet his, so sloppy and needy - exactly the way he wanted you. 

“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re bucking wildly underneath him, “M’close- so fucking close.”

He knew - of course he did. If the way your gummy walls were trying to suck the fucking soul out of him was anything to go by. Clit pulsing in a maddening little thump! thump! thump! that set Gojo’s animalistic rhythm. 

“Cum f’me.” he pants against your open mouth. Fingers hurrying on your clit because he wanted - needed - this so badly. “Cum f’me cum f’me, wan’ feel you squeezing my cock, sweetheart.” Needed to see if your tight pussy could take one more - to see if she’d overflow onto your poor panties again. “Cum f’me.”

“Ngh- fuck- Toru!”

And then you are - you feel it before you realize it. 

Just that white-hot electricity flowing through your veins, and your nails digging into Gojo’s milky skin. Leaving such angry red marks as you chase your high over and over and-

And Gojo wasn’t any better. Just barely having the sense to pull out as his balls squeezed so painfully and he’s painting your quivering pussy white. Thick rope after rope that the smug bastard purposefully smears all over your panties. 

So fucking filthy.

“Ten.” he’s groaning, and you already know what he means. “M’gonna have to buy you ten more after this.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[incognit0slut]

Angel

PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.

content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!

“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”

A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”

“I’m serious.”

“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”

His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."

“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”

“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.

How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?

Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.

He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.

Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.

Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.

It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.

The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.

Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.

His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.

“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”

“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then please enlighten me.”

Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.

“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”

Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”

“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”

The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.

“You… you mean you want… more than this? More than just us… here?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”

For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.

“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”

Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”

“Yeah.”

“As in… you have feelings for me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So you’re not just… turned on right now?”

“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”

His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"

"To avoid traffic?"

You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."

His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”

“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."

He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.

“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."

A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.

“I'm… glad you finally caught on."

"I'm catching on now.”

His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.

“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.

There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.

“Since when?”

You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.

“Since?” he prompts again.

You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."

He absorbs your words. "That’s… more than a while."

"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”

Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.

“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say…”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing."

He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”

You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.

"Remember when… you taught Violet how to… ride her bike?”

He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”

“The very first time.”

“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”

You nod. “When I… saw you with her that day, I-I… I got curious.”

His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her… and I started thinking about what it would be like… to have your kids.”

If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.

“You… thought about that?”

Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”

“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”

“Really?”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”

You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”

Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”

“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”

His jaw clenches.

He’s so close to completely losing it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.

“Why.. why not?”

“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.

“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.

“I do,” you manage to say.

“You want me that way?”

You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”

The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.

“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."

"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."

His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”

When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.

Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.

He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."

Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”

He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”

“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”

He nods absentmindedly. “We can… still grab the condom if you want…”

“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”

He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.

“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me…” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”

He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.

"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."

"Here's another thing you should know about me.”

He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.

A heartbeat in between.

“I really like it rough."

That’s all it takes.

He slams his hips into yours.

Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Jesus… you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.

Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.

"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”

You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.

Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer… Please…”

He lets out a sigh.

No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?

What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?

He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.

He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.

You’re an angel wrapped in sin.

“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so… so deep.”

You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.

“Spencer…”

His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.

“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”

“Ngh.”

Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.

He needs to feel it more than once.

He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.

You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.

“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”

Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.

“I want to.”

And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.

Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.

“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”

Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?

You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.

It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.

It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.

His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”

You can barely feel your legs.

“Speechless,” is your answer.

His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”

“Please.”

A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”

“About taking advantage of you.”

You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.

And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.

“Say it again.”

He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.

“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”

He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.

You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.

“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.

You shake your head. “I begged for this.”

He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”

A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.

Angel, angel, angel.

He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.

The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.

His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.

Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.

He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”

You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.

“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”

Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.

When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.

His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.

He slides two fingers inside you.

Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh… I—I can’t…”

He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”

Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.

“Spencer…”

He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”

The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.

He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.

If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.

Spencer smiles wryly to himself.

Since when did he become so religious?

Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.

“…no more.”

He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.

Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.

Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.

“That was…” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “…very reckless of us.”

With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”

He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”

You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”

He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”

Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”

He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? You said a lot of things.”

“You know what I mean,” he insists.

“I know. But I want to hear it again.”

The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”

“Everything?”

“Every single part of you.”

You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”

His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”

“But... what if it changes things for her?”

“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."

You mull over his words. “You think so?”

“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”

He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.

He almost said it. He almost called you angel.

“What?”

He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.

And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.

But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.

He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.

He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.

And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.