#banners by cafekitsune

[its-luna-noel]

soul tied | gojo x reader

02. astrids vals

"You're not going to die on me." "My love, not even death could keep me from you." When the love of your life - or one of your lives - is on death's door, you perform a soul tie ritual to make sure you'll meet again. This tie binds you across time, space, and every universe; your souls now belong to each other. But even a soul tie doesn't make love easy.

tags: f!reader, reincarnation au, soulmates au, threads of fate, angst, pining, slow burn, fluff, meet cutes in every life, non-linear storytelling

word count: 2.8k

chapter: 2/? prev. chapter | next chapter

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi there! sorry it's been a while, took me a long time to write this chapter, but i hope you enjoy.

1819, Great Britain 

The clopping of horse hooves finally falls silent when you arrive at your destination, and a footman opens the door of the stagecoach, offering a gloved hand to help you out. You take it, your own long, white gloves delicate on your hands. You mind the hem of your gown as you step out of the carriage, low heels clicking on the cobblestone path up to the grand estate before you.

The footman helps Shoko out of the stagecoach. She reaches down to straighten your gown, getting you ready for your social debut. “Ready?” she asks.

You nod and take a deep breath, feeling your chest swell against the tight fabric of your white gown. Then you glide forward across the front entrance.

When you walk inside, the sonorous melody of string instruments resonates through the main hall of the manor. Your arrival turns curious heads, the other guests all dressed in finery for the ball that marks the start of your debut season.

The footman announces your arrival to the party, and the music swells ever louder.

Shoko smirks over at you, taking in your drawn expression. “The night hasn’t even started yet,” she teases as she walks you into the ballroom.

You resist the urge to stomp on her foot in a very unladylike manner. Your best friend, though one of your favorite people in the world and something like a sister to you, could be so aggravating, especially since she’s older and debuted two seasons ago. Now that she married and became a viscountess, she’s been asked by your mother to be your chaperone for your first season coming out.

Which means she gets to bother you during your entire courting process.

She grins at you cheekily, seemingly knowing where your mind is at the moment. You playfully scowl at her before she winks and plucks a flute of wine from a tray. You do the same and take a dainty sip, nose crinkling at the fizzy bubbles.

Shoko chuckles under her breath. “It takes some getting used to.” Then she nods to the dance floor. “Anyone you’re hoping to see?”

You shake your head, following her gaze to look around at the surrounding crowd. You see a few familiar faces – you can see Utahime, who also debuted today in front of the king, and Lady Mei, who’s a year older than Shoko – but no one you’re necessarily interested in before introductions.

You turn back to Shoko, watching her extend her hand towards her husband, viscount Suguru Geto. He walks over, looking sharp in his formal attire, his long hair combed back from his face and tied up at the nape of his neck.

“You, of course,” Shoko says, smiling between the two of you, “know Suguru.”

“Lovely to see you again, miss,” he says, bowing slightly at the waist.

You give a small curtsey. “Likewise, Lord Geto.” Then you turn back to Shoko, and you can see the adoring way she looks at him, how soft her big brown eyes are as she smiles.

Her marriage was one of the first love matches you’ve known. Both of you hoped that, with your debut now in full swing, you would be able to marry for love, one day, too.

Ah, but you’re getting ahead of yourself.

Your father, dressed in finery worthy of a man with his title of earl, approaches and offers his hand. “Your first dance,” he says, and he whisks you away to the dance floor, where the music begins and you fall into the steps of the quadrille, mingling with the other couples in your square. Then, once you’re through with your dance, you return to your chaperone and her husband, having caught the eye of many young suitors.

Suguru smiles down at you when you arrive, a playful glint in his violet eyes. “I have someone to introduce you to,” he says, and you raise a delicate eyebrow, unsure of what the soft, teasing tone of his voice could mean. Then he turns, and you shift to peer over his shoulder, past the milling crowds to find who he could possibly– 

Then, navigating through the party attendees, comes a vision from a previous life, a ghost with a shock of white hair, and your eyes widen, lips falling open in shock. Eyes blue like a summer’s sky gaze at you, reminding you of times spent together, you and Shoko, him and Suguru. Scuffed shoes and bruised knees, growing up together in the humid heat of summer. You, forgetting yourself, breathe his Christian name, “Satoru.” Then, suddenly remembering that you’ve just debuted, that you’re no longer children together and that you need to present with a bit of formality, you blush and clear your throat, dipping into a curtsey. “Lord Gojo, I mean…”

He grins at you, achingly charming, and bends at the waist into a bow. He looks nothing like the young boy you remember, all chubby cheeks and wide smiles. Now he’s nothing but long legs and broad shoulders, looking perfectly put together in his light blue waistcoat that matches those stunning eyes you never could forget. He says your name with a lilt that sounds almost familiar, if not for the deeper register of his voice.

You stand there, stunned. Time has been kind to him.

He offers his hand, tilting his head to the side, that grin still curving his glossy lips. “May I trouble you for a dance?” he asks.

It’s not even a question; you take his hand, your gloved fingers curling around his. He leads you to the dance floor, bowing once more to match your curtsey. Then he pulls you closer, placing a hand on your waist and leading you into a lively waltz as the strings continue their melodious tune.

He hasn’t stopped smiling; you haven’t stopped staring at him.

“Lord Gojo,” you whisper up at him, letting him lead you through the first few steps of the dance. “When did you get back?”

“Earlier this week,” he says, his steps strong and self-assured. “We landed at port on Monday.”

“And you didn’t come tell us?”

His smile turns sheepish. “I’m not sure if you’d believe it, but I’ve been rather busy. Mother had meeting after meeting scheduled for me, old family friends coming by… I only now left the estate for the first time since being back.”

“Well, I’m honored you came.”

“You should be. It’s not everyone’s debut I’d come to see.”

“Oh, so you’re not here to annoy Utahime?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, wavy locks of white falling into his eyes. “Not tonight. I wanted to see you.”

You blush at his words, and then you turn your attention back to him. “Will you tell me all about it? Your adventures in the orient, I mean.”

He grins down at you, so blastedly handsome, and nods. “I’ll tell you everything. I kept journals just for you.”

Your eyes shine as you gaze up at him. “Charmer.”

He chuckles again as he guides you backwards, then to the side, your gown sweeping around your feet. “You know me too well,” he teases, and you feel his fingers flex lightly on your waist, tugging you just a bit closer. His voice is softer when he speaks again. “You look stunning, you know.”

You feel your face grow hot once more at his compliments, his praises. “Much more of that, and people will think you’re being improper,” you warn him playfully.

“Let them,” he says, eyes trailing along your face. “I’ve been through sea and foreign lands for three years; perhaps I’ve forgotten my court manners.”

“Then I’m sure it seems unbecoming of me to take a dance with you.”

He tuts softly and leans in a little to whisper conspiratorially, “I am still the son of an earl, you know. A tryst with the East India Company doesn’t change that.”

“You know they all think you should’ve stayed in politics.”

“Well, damn them.” Your eyes widen, and he grins down at you, still sweeping you across the ballroom with elegant steps. “What, you’ve grown so soft in my absence that you aren’t used to cursing anymore? How adorable.”

“We’re not children anymore, Lord Gojo,” you scold him quietly. 

He sighs, an almost wistful tone to his voice. “No, we’re not,” he agrees.

It’s quiet between you for the rest of the dance.

Once the song is over, he takes your hand and starts to guide you back towards Shoko. You’re surprised. “You won’t ask me for another dance?”

He smiles softly, though there’s still a melancholy to the expression. “It would be improper to have you all to myself on your debut night.”

You glance over at him. “Then you will ask another time?”

He turns to meet your eyes, expression earnest and gentle. “If you’d say yes.”

“I would.”

He nods, then, and his smile loses a little of that sadness. “Then I will ask again. Now that I’m home, you’ll never be rid of me.”

And oh, how beautiful that sounds.

~

The night continues much like that, with Shoko making the proper introductions for you to dance with other young gentlemen of the court. You dance with Lord Kento Nanami and Count Choso Kamo, both of whom are charming enough.

But you can’t stop thinking about Lord Gojo. Can’t stop watching him chat and laugh with Viscount Geto and Shoko.

You wish you could ignore your obligations as a debutante to enjoy their conversation as well. But you simply go about your dances and niceties, each time returning to your small group, having missed vital parts of conversation.

You’re starting to get frustrated.

Shoko smiles at you as you return after the final dance of the night, and you give a strained smile back. Your feet ache from your low heels, and you wish to be rid of the many hot, itchy layers of fabric pressed against your body.

Lord Gojo still looks at you like you’re radiant.

He and Viscount Geto are both laughing, and you can’t help but notice how good he looks wearing that bright smile that mirrors the one you used to know. And it makes you ache – for what, you’re not sure. For the times you used to have. For the times lost while he was overseas, making a name for himself along the eastern trade routes and helping his father make investments.

For the times to come, the uncertainty of what might become a formal courtship.

But do you want him in such a stuffy, traditional way? You were all friends growing up because none of you wanted to follow the rules; none of you paid them any mind as you chased each other through the gardens of your respective manors. Now, paying mind to how often he’s allowed to touch you, how many words he’s allowed to say, how many dances you can take together without creating gossip and being seen as untoward– you’re already exhausted.

You just want your Satoru back. You want back the times you missed.

You want it all. But most of all, you want him.

~

2024, Tokyo

You tap your fingers restlessly on the table in front of you, knee bouncing up and down anxiously as you stare at the front door. Every time the door swings open, bells tinkling lightly from the movement, you perk up, only to find yourself disappointed and frustrated that it’s not him.

The handsome man who paid for your coffee.

You’ve been waiting for nearly half an hour, swinging your legs back and forth in your high-top seat, watching the front door like a hawk. But you’ll soon be late for work, and you can’t wait for too much longer before you’ll have to leave your watchful post.

Part of you can’t help but be concerned; you’ve seen him every single day at the coffee shop for nearly as long as you can remember, so why isn’t he there today?

You shake the thought away; if he doesn’t come today, you’ll just try again tomorrow.

Just as you’re packing up your things, sliding your laptop into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, the bell jingles one more time. You look over in one last hope that it might be him, and your heart stutters when you see those familiar long legs and that mess of white hair atop his head.

You practically leap out of your seat as he walks inside. 

Before he can order, you march up to him, and you thrust your hand out towards him, paper yen bills fluttering between your fingers. Your jaw is stubbornly set as you say, “Here.”

He raises one perfect eyebrow. “I don't need that.”

“I owe you for my coffee.”

“I just told you, I don’t need it.”

You huff, starting to get annoyed. Can’t he just let you pay him back? “I have the cash right here, just take it.”

He smirks. “What, did you go to the ATM just for me? Keep the cash, I don’t need it.”

“Then what do you need? ‘Cause I’m paying you back for the stupid coffee.”

At your question, he leans back, putting his hand to his chin like he’s actually thinking. “Hm,” he hums, tilting his head with that smug smirk still on his face. He stands there for a long moment, taking you in with an almost clinical expression in those bright blue eyes. Then his smirk widens into a dazzling grin, and you can see delight written across his face.

It sends a pit of dread into your stomach.

“You free this Saturday?” he asks, still grinning.

You give him a wary glance. “Maybe. Why?”

“I need a date for my friends’ wedding.”

You balk at the proposition. “That’s way more than payback for a cup of coffee!”

He whines – whines, like a child – “You asked what I needed! I need a date! Please, my friends have been on my case for ages and now it’s down to the last second. I could really use a solid.”

You look him up and down again, bewildered. Why couldn’t a man like him – handsome, charming, kind, gorgeous – get a date for a wedding? He must be insufferable. “You seriously can’t land a date? You know they make apps for that, right?”

He waves a hand dismissively. “As if I want to try one of those. Please! I’ll get down on my knees right here if that’ll make you agree.”

You scoff, then quickly realize that was the wrong thing to do. He, in all his long-legged glory, sinks down to his knees, just like he promised, right there in front of everyone in the coffee shop. He clasps his hands in front of him and waves them around, begging. “Oh, please, do me the honor of being my date!” he shouts, enough to catch everyone’s attention if the simple change in position wasn’t enough. “Please, please, please!”

You splutter, face going beet red as you feel everyone’s eyes on you. You try to shush him, tugging on his arms. “Get up! This is why you don’t have a date; what is wrong with you?!”

He resists your pull, leaning back on his knees, giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen a grown man pull off. “Please!”

“Oh my god, okay! Okay, okay, get off the fucking floor, I’ll be your stupid date!”

His face lights up, and he grins up at you. “Really?” he asks, sounding like a little boy being told he can pick out one candy if he’s good.

“Yes! Just get up off the floor, I am begging you.”

Instead of standing, he wraps his long arms around your middle, pressing his face into your tummy and crying, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You’re not sure if this is part of the dramatics, or if he’s really this relieved to have a date.

You try to haul him up from the ground, pulling on his arms. “Get up,” you hiss through your teeth, and finally – having secured what he so desperately wanted – he stands, his large hands resting on your arms. He grins down at you, looking unabashedly pleased with himself.

“Pick you up at 2 on Saturday?” he supplies, and you just glare at him, still blushing furiously while all the other coffee shop customers stare on with a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment.

You can never come back here, you realize. And that just makes you punch him in the arm, fuming.

“Ow!”

“You owe me another coffee.”

thank you for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next

(taglist: @inlove-maze, @jotarohat, @moonchhu, @elitesanjisimp)

[bitchface24-7]

THE SEDUCTIVE PROFESSOR VIKTOR PT2

synopsis: after completing “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” with straight As your darling Professor Viktor decides to reward you. After all, you're no longer his student... So you two are no longer breaking any rules. And he can have you in Any. Way. He. Wants.

warnings: age gap (viktor’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), technically still a power imbalance, switch leaning dom!viktor, I tried my best to make this gender-neutral, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. Please save me from this man, why is he invading my every thought and dream? He's making me realize things about myself.

PART 1

Being in higher education is a total pain in the ass.

Having Viktor as your professor made it a million times easier.

Especially since you finished his class as the top student. The look on Viktors face when the charts were released still gives you butterflies to this day.

You're officially a graduate of your STEM program! And with how amazing your grades are, and how many spectacular references you got; you were able to become Viktor’s TA. Allowing for Jayce to become the Lab Professor of “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101” (they still alternate roles. They hate being confined to one aspect of teaching.)

Especially since you're now secretly dating the most sought-after professor the academy has ever had.

You know it’s still frowned upon, a TA dating their superior, but at least it’s not as bad as a student fucking their professor. You're guilty on both counts.

You only have a scheduled class twice a week. Once on Tuesdays in the morning, and once on Thursdays in the afternoon. The rest of the week you're free to do whatever (and whomever) you please. It's mostly built this way so you can have enough time to grade almost a hundred assignments and still have time to relax.

You two have squeezed that schedule dry.

You've had sex in the classroom, in your shared office, in the library, in each others apartments.

You're fucking like rabbits.

You'll never forget when you were honestly, truly, just trying to grade some papers with Viktor in the library and all of a sudden you're getting fondled underneath the table and you're covering your mouth trying not to get caught.

You were rewarded that night with how well you behaved. You made sure you two didn't get caught. How sweet.

But there have been times when you've been bratty; desperately craving Viktor's love and attention.

And you got it, in the form of you getting your throat fucked and ass smacked with Viktors cane. He didn't stop until you had tears streaming down your face and your ass was a beautiful mixture of red, purple, and blue.

(you were too stubborn to use your safe word)

The looks of concern your students shot you as Viktor subtly yet smugly drank his sweetened coffee made your blood boil in both anger and lust.

You could barely sit or move due to the spanking, and you could barely talk due to the pounding your throat received. Making it so Viktor taught the class and you sat there pretty; and incredibly uncomfortable.

Some students shot you pointed looks but you pretended they weren't there.

But… there has been instances where YOU were the dominant one.

Where you sucked his cock under his desk, not caring if colleagues came in to chat. Even if it was the dean.

Where you rode him into the mattress, painting his pretty neck and chest with a smattering of hickies.

Where you sat on his face until your body gave out due to how skilled he is with his fingers and tongue.

You're not sure you've ever orgasmed this much before in your life, but you’re not complaining!

Aside from the mind-blowing sex… dating Viktor is like a dream come true.

He’s caring, sweet, kind, and thoughtful. He's still snarky and sassy with a dry dirty humour but… he's perfect.

And you wouldn't change a damn thing about him.

Even when you two are cuddled up in bed late at night and you're having a deep conversation, and Viktor’s insecurities peek through, you shut that shit down immediately.

You're in awe over the fact Viktor's never been in a proper relationship before.

You make a promise to yourself after learning that. You'll be Viktor's first and last relationship.

Till death do you part baby! You wonder which ring will look best on your ring finger.

(but that's a bit farther into the future. Enjoy your relationship as it is now with its sweetness and crazy freak nasty sex)

[heehoonies]

insatiable

description: husky hybrids like sunghoon are known for their insane sex drive. but bunny hybrids? they're downright insatiable.

word count: 2.4k

contents: husky hybrid!sunghoon x bunny hybrid!reader

smut warnings beneath the cut

smut warnings: switch ynhoon, sunghoon has a monster cock (as always...), mean and soft dom ynhoon, subbed out ynhoon, role switch, oral (f. rec), degradation, praise, nicknames, overuse of 'bun/bunny' and 'pup/puppy', name calling (slut, painslut, little baby, dumb dumb puppy), tail and ear pulling/pinching, knotting, cumming inside, creampie, multiple orgasms, bulge kink, breeding kink, scenting, biting, choking, spitting in mouth, marking and mentions of past marking.

sunghoon moans against your folds as he continues to lap at them, spit and your essence coating his lips and chin. the stimulation is becoming too much for you and you tug on his tail harshly to get him to release your puffy lips, needing his cock more and more by the second.

“can't even be a good little girl for me, can you?” his voice is deep as he watches you, tail stilled as your hand is still wrapped around his soft fur. “always have to disobey…”

you shake your head, pinching at the base of his tail, a wicked grin crossing your face as you see his cock stiffen even further between his legs.

“knock it off,” he warns, eyes glinting as he pries your hand off his tail, taking both of your hands in one palm and pinning them above your head. “can't just be a good little bunny. always have to be a greedy little slut.” he watches as your ears fold at the degradation, your cunt spasming around nothing.

“hoonie, please…” your begging doesn't seem to affect him as his eyes bore into yours. “no hoonie for you, baby.”

you whine in his hold, trying to free your hands from his grasp. his free hand slides from the grip it has on your hip around to grab your fluffy white tail, tugging on it until you squirm from the pain. “my little painslut...” he coos, feeling your tail twitch in his hold as he continues to pin you down. “now take what i fucking give you, bun.”

you nod, brain feeling fuzzy as you watch sunghoon line himself up with your entrance. he buries his monster cock to the hilt with one motion, your dripping slick aiding in his thrust. your wetness drips around you, pooling around your ass and thighs while seeping into the sheets beneath you. “eugh– please…” you whimper as you feel him nearly in your throat.

sunghoon pushes his hips flush to your pelvic bone as he watches the bulge appear in your stomach. he leans down, a pained groan slipping from your lips as he somehow reaches even further inside. he bites lightly at the skin of your navel, lapping at the spot where he can see and feel his tip protruding through your delicate stomach.

“ahhh, look at you…” sunghoon smiles, canines on full display as his tail swooshes behind him lightly. “you were made to be fucked like this, my little bunny.”

you still try to wriggle in his hold, the searing grip he now has on your hip burning the skin there as you fight to have your hands free. your hands reach endlessly for his ears, needing something to hold onto, but sunghoon easily overpowers you continuously.

“nice try,” his voice is mocking and wicked as he slides all the way out before slamming back inside, setting a torturous pace as the pleasure of his veiny length mixes with the delicious pain from the stretch of his girth. he's always like this, somehow fucking you even wider with each time he has you, always reaching deeper, pressing further, fucking harder.

you babble incoherently as you stare into sunghoon's trained gaze, his resolve beginning to slip a bit as he allows himself to enjoy the tight walls wrapping his length in an insatiable warmth. “already fucked out? we've barely even started.”

you shake your head to disagree, but sunghoon's hand at your waist comes up to cup your chin. he pries your mouth open as he continues thrusting deep inside, before pressing as close as possible and leaning over to spit right into your mouth. he shuts your lips quickly and chases the action with a searing kiss, canines nipping your lip lightly. you moan into his mouth as he breaches your wet heat with his tongue, pushing deep inside and exploring in a rushed frenzy. sunghoon pulls away after a moment, accentuating your finished kiss with another yank of his cock nearly leaving your heat before shoving back inside, balls slapping against your ass as he continues his mind numbing, pussy destroying pace.

“gonna fuck you full of my pups, little bunny.” sunghoon rambles, hand snaking down to your clit  to torture you further, overstimulating you from all ends. you gasp, back arching off the bed as little whimpers and ah ah's leave your mouth, nose twitching as you get closer to your orgasm. “that's it, gonna cum for me? gonna milk this cock, baby? my little girl loves taking this knot, doesn't she?”

you nod wildly as his words reach your floppy ears, screaming out as your pussy clamps down around his length. sunghoon cums hard as he feels your walls sucking him in, pushing his hips flush to you to ensure you don't lose a single drop of him.

you feel his knot expanding at your entrance, trapping his seed inside successfully. sunghoon lets go of your hands, falling down gently atop your body. he feels exhaustion seeping through him already, though he knows you're not even close to being done.

sunghoon brings both of your wrists to his mouth to pepper kisses across them. once he's let go, occupying himself by fondling your breasts, he feels you growing wetter beneath him as you play with his ears. “gotta wait for my knot to die down, bunny. be patient.”

you shake your head in defiance, pinching his chin between your fingers. “tell your knot to hurry the fuck up.”

sunghoon groans, already feeling himself grow harder at your insistence to take charge while he's still inside you. “it's my turn to be on top, after that you can sit inside me all night long. okay, puppy?”

sunghoon nods dumbly, already feeling dizzy as you watch him, the look in your eyes shifting instantly as you see his tail swishing faster behind him, ears perking up despite his body's exhaustion. “you like the sound of that, my filthy little pup?”

sunghoon groans as he takes your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the hardened bud, eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on his work and waits for his knot to deflate. “dumb puppies need to take what they're given,” you tell him, watching as his ears twitch at your words. spit pools around your nipple and drips down the curves of your chest, sunghoon's tongue losing control as he laps at your breast, the taste of you addictive in his mouth. he nips gently, tugging on your nipple lightly, canines scraping against the sensitive peak. your back arches up off the bed, causing his now deflated dick to slip out of your pulsing heat. your entrance gapes around nothing, slick dripping out along with your cum mixture, painting your bodies in a delicious concoction of your juices. 

you tug sunghoon off your breast by his quivering ear, his mouth dropping open from the delicious pain of your grip on his sensitive fur. you force sunghoon to switch places with you, mounting him quickly. he looks completely fucked out below you as he stares up in awe, watching as your pretty white ears flop to the sides as you grasp him tightly in your soft hand, yanking quickly to get him fully hard again.

“fuck, bunny, slow down…” sunghoon whines beneath you, squirming as his ears lie back against his head, making himself smaller in your hold. “you had your fun, but it's my turn now.” you tell him, grinning as you see his length now straining against his abdomen. you lean down and trace your tongue across the lines of his abs, licking around his length before kissing the tip. “love your cock,” you groan, suckling on his mushroom tip for a moment before pulling away and holding his length once more. “but i need you inside me again.” sunghoon misses the barely there desperation in your voice, only hearing the demanding tone between your syllables swimming into his ears that sit flush against his hair, pressed back in a show of submission to you.

you raise your hips before sinking down onto his length once more, sitting with just the tip inside to torture him for a moment before taking a seat. sunghoon groans beneath you, tail thumping wildly against the bed at the oversensitivity of his cock. “stop, stop–” he whines, pushing your body away.

“knock it off, puppy.” sunghoon hears the venom dripping off your tongue and he whimpers loudly as you begin to rock atop his body. you allow one of his hands to spaly against your back, burying his palm in your bushy tail. sunghoon holds it lightly this time, only squeezing or pinching accidentally when you seem to sink lower and lower with each movement. he feels impossibly close, yet never close enough, his other hand coming to hold your hip once more, pulling you down further. his mind and body are in a war, pushing and pulling simultaneously as overstimulation wraps him in a vice grip.

your aching hole envelops his weeping cock in a warmth he can never describe, wetness trickling down his balls as your slick pours out. “love having you like this,” you smile, covering his hand on your hip and squeezing lightly while your free hand cups his jaw. you push two fingers into his mouth and he sucks them in diligently, “such a good puppy for me, so well behaved, aren't you?” sunghoon nods around your fingers, lapping at them continuously as you rock steadily atop his body. his tail stills as you feel his tip leak inside you, more pre cum dribbling out and mixing with the slick coating the two of you.

“ahh, my little puppy is close…” you quicken the pace, fingers leaving his mouth and traveling to his throat where you tighten around his windpipe. “gonna cum, little baby? can't even handle me like this, can you? always cumming first when bunny's on top, such a big bad husky can't handle me, can he?”

sunghoon's whines are insistent, his mouth now slack as his tongue lolls out, panting wildly as he begins to meet your movements with thrusts upwards. “fuuuuck–”

“such a dumb little slut…” you whisper, mainly to yourself, as you feel his dick straining inside you. “be useful for once and fill me up like the little whore you are, puppy.”

those words send sunghoon tumbling over the edge, the knot in his stomach tightening impossibly before breaking. he holds your hips flush to his own as he cums deep inside, the stream never ending as you continue rocking up and down, chasing your own orgasm.

“can't even make me cum, can you? useless little fuck pup.”

sunghoon shakes his head, overstimulation hoarding his senses as he wildly finds your clit with his fingers, rubbing senselessly on the abused bud. your tail begins to twitch and nose scrunches up as your mouth begins to fall open at his movements. “just like that, keep going…” sunghoon's movements continue until you're clenching around him impossibly tight, forcing more cum to spurt from his flushed tip. the familiar feeling of skin expanding near your entrance washing over you like a comforting blanket as your essence is trapped inside your hole.

sunghoon's tail is still and ears are still pinned to his head as he heaves, trying desperately to catch his breath. you flop down stop his body, head landing on his bare chest with a gentle thud. you press a kiss to his pectoral, grabbing at his muscular bicep and pressing your nails inside as your ears stand at attention.

“no, no more, bunny…” sunghoon whimpers between deep breaths, ears finally standing back up as he comes back into his mind. “puppy is so tired…”

you whine, nuzzling into his chest before glancing up at his exhausted face with wide eyes and a pout lacing your lips. “i said no, bun.” his dominating side is slowly showing itself once more as your lips quiver, your pussy aching despite him still being inside you, trapping your seed together inside your insistent hole.

“i need you…” you whimper, watching him closely for any sign of him caving.

“and i need sleep.” sunghoon's tone spells finality, and you groan as his knot begins to die down, allowing wetness to seep out. “i love you so so much, but hoonie needs to sleep, and so do you, bun. it's three in the fucking morning.”

you whine as he attempts to pull out of you and you tug on his relaxed ear. the act pulls a snarl from sunghoon's lips, canines flashing briefly in reaction to your brattiness.

“can you stay inside?”

sunghoon sighs deeply, feeling his resolve faltering as he whispers a small, “fine,” before shifting both of you to lie on your sides, his length still sheathed deep inside your whimpering hole.

you grin widely at his reluctant answer, giggling as you press your hips against his. “didn't say you could move, did i?”

you shake your head, hiding your face in his neck. sunghoon brings his nose to your neck and rubs, inhaling the aroma from your scent gland before nipping lightly at it, adding to the flurry of marks that litter your ass, thighs, and tits from hours ago. this one is the most important, though, as his possessive, animalistic side seeps through when he bites down there. you try to hide the skin of your neck but he tugs on one of your ears, making you crane your head as he continues biting and licking there, ensuring his smell is present on you.

you whimper as he pulls away from your delicate skin, tilting your chin up to catch your lips in a slow, deep kiss. “now go to sleep, my insatiable little bunny.”

you nod as he presses one last kiss to your once pouty lips, now smiling softly as you nuzzle into his chest, sniffing lightly at the calming yet intoxicating aroma that emanates from his sweaty form. his tail wraps around both of your legs, brushing over your own puffy white one, the warmth against your fur making you sink further into his embrace as your smile grows. sunghoon's free hand strokes your now floppy ears lightly, the feeling of the soft fur beneath his fingers lulling his mind deeper into sleep.

little does sunghoon know that he'll be pinching your clit in merely an hour and edging you into oblivion as punishment for waking him up by fucking yourself on his sleeping form. but he expected as much...

you are a bunny, after all.

[drunkenbagel]

day six: breeding kink - logan howlett

kinktober masterlist

Pairing: Logan Howlett x f!reader Contents/warnings: +18 MINORS DNI, established relationship, logan has ruts, choking, breeding kink, pet names, dirty talking, blowjob, degradation and praise, fingering, p in v, rough rex, overstimulation

Logan swallowed hard again, hands squeezing his legs, trying not to concentrate on the warm feeling that was taking over him.

You were cooking dinner in one of Logan's shirts, which covered you up just below the curve of your ass, and it was beginning to drive him mad.

He knew what was happening, but didn't account of it being early, much less being with you while he went through it. He had managed to keep his rut away and unknown to you, not wanting to admit it. You would probably want to try and help him, but he was afraid he'd break you, or that you would never want to see him again. The thought of it made him feel anxious, but it was easily pushed away by the thoughts of you bent over the kitchen island.

“Hey, are you alright?” you asked with a spoonful of the dinner you had taken for him to taste.

You had noticed something was going on with him as you turned around to let him taste the recently finished dinner. Leaving the spoon back in the pot, you approached the chair he was sitting at, kneeling in from of him.

“Logan” you called, but he was avoiding your gaze. “Baby, what's going on?”

You took your hand up to the side of his face, noticing the hot temperature. “God, Logan, you're burning up” you said, touching his face with both of your hands, forcing him to look at you. “What do you need? What's going on? Please talk to me baby”

When his eyes met yours you noticed his pupils were blown, brows furrowed in deep thought. He suddenly grabbed your wrists, making you gasp as he took your hands away from his burning skin.

“I...”

He swallowed. You waited for his response, but he just looked at your doe eyes, innocently waiting for an answer while he could only think of tearing your clothes apart and fucking you right then and there.

“Let me help you, just-”

“You can't”

“How do you know if you won't tell me?” you asked, hands still held by the wrists by him. “Just tell me what's going on, please” you pleaded with a soft voice.

“I have this thing” he said, letting go of your wrists. You took his hands back in yours. “I... Get into some periods of time. Some ruts.”

“Like... Animals?” you said softly with confusion.

“My mutation gives me these-” he sighed and closed his eyes for a second, the mere look of you licking your lips making him start to get hard. “These urges. Periods of very high libido and urges to have... Uh- To have sex, to... breed.”

You blinked a couple of times, processing the information.

“Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“Because it's stupid. I need to go” he said, letting go of your hands and getting up. You got up too, and ran up to him to block his way to the door.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Leave it, I-”

Logan tried to take a few steps, but you stopped him with a hand on his chest. His whole body had a reaction to your hand on his skin, rushing his blood to his already straining dick.

“No. Tell me” you said, determined. “Can I help?”

“You don't know what you're asking, darlin'. It's not sweet.”

“I don't care” you answered with the same tone, your hand making it's way down to his belt. A hitched breath came out from his lips as you started unbuckling it. “Let me help you”

You could see the outline of his cock pressed tight against his jeans, and freed it when you opened his pants, giving it a few strokes. Logan let out a ragged breath and closed his eyes as you ran your hand up and down his length, a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Get on your knees doll, I need your pretty mouth” he said, and you followed the command, kneeling in front of him.

Looking up at him, you took his leaking angry red tip on your lips, licking the salty liquid as you bobbed your head and took him more and more in your mouth. He took a fistful of your hair and started fucking your throat at a relentless pace, making you gag and choke on it.

Suddenly, he pulled you up and grabbed you by your legs, making you wrap them around his hips as he guided you to the kitchen island. Sitting you on top of it, he kissed you with a hunger you had never seen on him, which only made your panties damp.

“God, I can smell how fucking wet you are” he grumbled as he pushed the wet material aside, a finger entering your soaked cunt. You moaned, hands flying to his hair as you arched your back.

“More” you said in a moan.

“Demanding little thing, huh?” he said with a smirk as he added another thick finger into you. Picking up the pace, it wasn't long until a third finger made its way into your dripping pussy, the familiar sensation of warmth pooling at your lower belly.

“Lo, I-” you said with ragged breaths, hand gripping his bicep.

“Cum for me darlin'” he demanded, thumb pressing circles in your clit. That was enough for your orgasm to topple over, your cunt squeezing his fingers.

Logan didn't wait for you to come down from your high as he ripped the fabric and took his dick out of the restriction of the denim. He took it into his hand and sank the whole length into you, making you cry out. He started a relentless path, the only sound on the room that of your breathy moans and the slap of his balls against your skin.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he sloppily kissed you, need taking over his thoughts. The only thing on his mind was fucking you and filling you up to the brim again and again, leaving you full of his cum.

His hips started stuttering, and leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, biting down on it when he finally reached his orgasm, ropes of hot cum filling your insides. Panting, you took his face between your hands and brought your foreheads together, smiling. He smiled back, but it wasn't as innocent as yours.

“Not done with you, doll” he said as he took you off the counter and bent you over it. You gasped at the cold sensation of air hitting your dripping cunt. “Not even close” he whispered in your ear.

With a single thrust he pushed inside of you, making you cry out at the sudden feeling of being full of him again. He started mercilessly pounding into you again, the tip of his dick brushing your cervix ever so deliciously at the new angle.

Grabbing you by the hair, he lifted your head and put his hand to your neck, you lips letting out a broken moan.

“So fucking good for me” he whispered in your ear lowly. “Letting me use your pretty pussy whenever I need”

You whined at his words, feeling your orgasm creep closer again.

“My pretty little fucktoy” he said, biting down on your neck and sucking on the soft skin. “I'll mark you up so everyone knows who you fucking belong to, darlin'.”

Logan kept fucking into you at a pace that had your brain incapable of thinking about anything else than his dick ramming into you. Your moans echoed the squelching sounds of your dripping pussy, and he could not get enough of it.

“You like that, doll?”

You babbled mindlessly, trying to say that fuck, yes you did love feeling every inch of him in you. He let out a laugh at your pathetic attempt of an answer.

“Have I fucked you silly, huh?” he teased. “Can't even give a a proper answer”

He loved teasing you in your dumbfounded state, but he could feel himself getting close to his own orgasm too. With a bruising grip on your hips, he quickened his pace.

“Fuck, gonna fill you up so good, darlin'. Gonna fuck you until you're so full of my seed that it's gonna stick to you until you have my child”

You couldn't help but let out a whine in between the string in moans that you were letting out.

“Please, Lo” you begged. “Wanna- Ah- Wanna be so full of you, please”

Fuck. You, begging him to fill you up? That was his undoing. With a loud groan, he thrust a few more times until his hot cum filled your insides again, dripping from your legs. You were both panting, dick still nestled deep inside you, both thinking the same thing;

hope it sticks.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

It's the early hours of the morning, sunlight weakly streaming in through the curtains, casting rays of light on the two bodies locked together on the bed.

"Ssh... Not so loud," Geto whispers as he rocks his hips deliciously slowly against yours, cock slipping in deeper each time.

You're already at the limits of your control, struggling to not be loud, your remaining brain cells trying to soften your noises to sighs and whimpers. Geto inserts two of his thick fingers into your open mouth, eyes darkening as he sees the effect it has on you.

"You're so sexy," he growls, keeping his motions consistent, brushing against that sweet spot inside you with each stroke.

Muffled by the digits in your mouth you gaze into his eyes, nonsensical noise leaving your throat as he rests his forehead against yours. Your eyes glance briefly at the clock on the night stand and Geto chucked softly.

"The girls won't be up yet. Relax." He starts increasing the pace, your eyes squeezing closed in pleasure, nails digging into his back, feel your walls contracting around him-

Knock knock knock

Your lids fly open and Geto stops, looking at the locked door in confusion.

"Y/n nee-san? You said you'd help me with my hair today. I can't braid it myself." Nanako's voice is heard from the other side. "And Mimiko said she wants you to do her eyeliner."

Geto slides his fingers out of your mouth so that you can talk. You clear your throat trying to form coherent sentences, Geto's erection throbbing inside you.

"Yeah, can you give me 10 minutes?" you ask, trying not to giggle, Geto's eyes crinkling in amusement at the hilarity of the situation trying not to laugh.

There's a moment of silence, then Nanako, exasperatedly drawls, "Fiiiine." Another moment of silence before she says, "Please tell me you're not having sex."

A short huff of laughter escapes Geto's lips as you frantically try to silence him.

"Ew." You hear retreating footsteps before burying your face into Geto's chest and let out a loud snort which causes him to join in, laughter filling the room.

"Ten minutes... I think that's long enough to do it twice."

He doesn't give you a chance to speak as his mouth crushes yours and he picks up his motions again, thumb finding your clit, pushing you over the edge in a haze of orgasmic delight.

Geto Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Taglist

@estarlias @daswanj @actuallysaiyan @whatshernameis

@byul9158 @mirrors-musings @Mangiswig

@that-goth-bisexual @connorsui @jadedjane @darkstarlight82

@soft--cherry @galactict3a @hunnie-lily

[xunyicaos]

take my breath away 

lads sylus x afab!reader (18+)

word count: ~ 1.6k

content: pre-established relationship (admittedly obsessed with husband!sylus), not proofread, corn without plot, breathplay, pet names (kitten, sweetie, cutie), needy!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, p in v, reposted my old work from diff fandom

when you gasp it's like something snaps. 

your whole body quakes as euphoria floods through you, high-pitched cries tumbling from your lips and your nails leaving pretty red patterns all over your husband’s back. sylus is a pro at many things, but he's especially talented at hitting that delicate spot inside you for the third time tonight, flipping the switch in your brain that turns off all the thoughts focused on anything but him. 

you don’t remember how this started, whether you had a bad day or he did, or what precisely it was that has you a fucked out doll at his disposal. shit, you’re not even sure how your day went at all right now, but you aren’t complaining. 

on the contrary, you’re begging. your hole is sensitive, that's an understatement, but it’s still drinking in his fingers desperately. it's so good, so addictive when sylus fills you up, whether it’s his long fingers or his cock, your pussy craves more each second. 

but now sylus isn’t moving and your recovering walls feel neglected without his fingers massaging into them. “no, no,” you whimper, lightly smacking at his arm. “need more… wanna cum again.”

your hiccups seem to grab sylus's attention again, his crimson gaze heavy yet curious. somehow, even in your pleasured haze, you recognize the expression. he wants something from you and, of course, you automatically want to give it to him as soon as he tells you what it is. He pulls his fingers from you with a sloppy wet sound that has your eyes rolling, your hole clenching as though begging to be stretched again, needing to be filled. 

“sweetie,” sylus slurs, his voice intoxicatingly deep with a tempting lull to his words. “will you make that sound…” his voice catches, tense with his own growing arousal that's evident in the way his brows furrow as he tries to find his words. “make that pretty noise again for me.”

your brows furrow for a moment and you think you notice him using his wet hand to push his boxers down, the other traveling up to the base of your neck. he presses gently, tentatively, a tender massage that eases your breath, makes you comfortable enough to find your voice and ask, “what n—?”

the question catches in your throat, breath hitching beneath his palm as he squeezes. your eyes widen, an internal scream of I can’t breathe! causing your heart to skip a beat. but sylus’s grip loosens just before the panic fully manifests and oxygen floods into your lungs, the relief racing both up to fill your head and down to pool between your thighs. 

“that.”

oh. your thinking is still cloudy, sentences not linking together properly, words not articulating, but you think you know what he’s talking about. how fitting.

sylus fucking likes the sound of you choking, the melody of you gasping and whimpering, even more vulnerable at his hands than you already are. and, honestly, it works out, because you love the way it feels when he chokes you. you know he's at war with himself internally, weighing out his own pleasure and your comfort. always so thoughtful. you respond with your own hand resting gently on top of his, squeezing it as if to urge him to continue. 

sylus seems a bit relieved and he leans down to press a hungry kiss to your lips, catching your lower lip between his teeth before swiping his tongue over it and pulling back just enough to whisper, “so you like that, kitten?” he sounds a bit hopeful and if you could think properly, you’d say it was cute. 

“yes,” it’s a blend of a hiccup, a sob, and likely a deranged giggle. your hand flutters on top of his, pressing it down into your neck. 

that’s all he needs to hear. 

it’s as simple as a flex of his perfect fingers that gets you to keen, your movements in tandem with his as you hook your legs around his waist. your expression, the beautiful sounds leaving you, and the steady stream of bliss dripping from your hole—it has him hard and throbbing as he positions himself between your legs. 

you’d whine if you could, but your voice is hidden behind sylus's giant hand, your breath shallow. you see stars when he slides into you, the stretch making your mouth fall open in a stifled scream, drool trickling from the corner of your lips. you’re unable to take the breath you usually would, to steady yourself, to keep yourself from unraveling then and there. no, now you’re only able to clench, to grip him with your needy walls. your mind is melting and his oh-so-intoxicating voice only adds fuel to the fire. 

“you’re so beautiful, sweetie. always, but especially when you’re like this,” sylus groans, his hips rocking into a pace that has you silently sobbing, the pleasure overwhelming. it’s like both of you have forgotten the level of your sensitivity, your orgasms in the past hour brushed aside. the focus is on how badly you want more, more, more right now. 

sylus is creating a pattern, lightening his grip on your neck only to slam into you right as you’re trying to recover with a breath. “you like it when you’re fucked stupid, huh?” he pants between thrusts. “my kitten just wants to be full of my cock?” 

your acquiescence is broken up into too many syllables, otherwise reduced to gasps and fluttering lashes. your nails dig pretty red crescents into his arms, tears spilling from your eyes as your lungs are tempted again and again, the rush of air being abruptly stopped and sylus pounding into your pussy enough to drive you crazy, if you aren’t already. 

sylus is equally drunk on your pussy; the way it pulls him into your heat, how your walls massage his cock each time he slams into you. it always feels like he’s reminding you that your pussy is all his, just for him. it's always been his goal; by the end of these late nights all you can remember is him, his cock and how nothing will ever fill you as perfectly. 

“aw, my needy little kitten, can’t think of anything but how good you feel right now, hm?” you think you nod, your teary chin hitting the back of his hand as his grasp tightens again. “there you go, sweetie,” he groans, his half-lidded gaze drinking up your tears and gasps. “feel so good you can't stop crying, hm? oh you’re so beautiful. so beautiful and all fucking mine.”

maybe it’s something about the way your eyes roll back, your lips parted in a suspended gasp, the rosy flush that’s filled your cheeks—whatever it is causes sylus’s hips to stutter, pushing into you at a depth that, if you weren’t already suffocating, would take your breath away. 

he lets go, his hand moving to brace himself through his own climax as it mixes with yours and you break down into delighted gasping sobs. “sy,” your voice is hoarse, broken, but the way your fingers trail up and down his forearm proves that it’s all in bliss. “holy shit, you're so—so good, it’s so… it feels so good.”

sylus chuckles breathlessly, the rough pads of his fingers going to draw soothing circles on the reddening skin of your neck. “you’re too perfect for me.” he hums and trails kisses from your neck to your jaw, finally ending at your lips.

his kisses are soft, far more tender than the roughness of his fingers around your throat, each one planting seeds of reality in your thoughts, slowly bringing your vocabulary back together in a way that makes sense, but not enough to draw you out from the pleasure that still has you shivering. “you did so well, sweetie,” he soothes into your lips, taking your weary giggles into his adoring kiss. “you’re absolutely amazing.” 

there’s a beat of hesitancy and Sylus takes the time to slowly pull out of you, trying to keep his eyes away from the way your hole tenses, a milky stream being pushed out and drawn back in with every pulse. He settles next to you and pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and steadying his breathing to help inspire yours to calm. 

“sweetie?” he starts and you can barely place the discomfort in his tone. “that wasn't…” his brows furrow as the words escape him and he almost looks sheepish when he meets your gaze. so out of character, yet so endearing. “i didn’t hurt you… right?”

the laugh that leaves you is a bit more stable, genuine in its amusement. words are still proving to be difficult, due to both the mental toll and the physical pull on your throat, but you think you can get the point across when you kiss him. “no... didn’t hurt. i liked it—really liked it.” 

relief fills sylus’s sigh and he kisses your forehead, a small smile on his face when he pulls away to look at you. his eyes scan your equally red neck and you absently doodle invisible patterns on his bare chest, peeking up at him through your lashes. 

“what is it, cutie?” sylus asks in that irresistible timbre as he studies your needy expression. He knows what you want, but he’s fully prepared to keep you in his arms for just a bit longer and, thankfully, you’re in agreement. 

“need… a lil’ break…” you admit, nuzzling into his chest with a soft sigh. “but…” you peek up at him again with an adorable amount of playful shyness that makes his heart skip a beat.

“i can go again.”

[thebookbutterfly]

Hey there! Could you possibly write a Sandor Clegane x gender neutral reader where Sandor has a soft spot for reader and reader feels the same? He tries to hide it but one day reader get’s hurt and he patches them up and maybe confessions come out?

🦋 Little Bird— Sandor Clegane x gn!Reader

Summary: You get injured in an ambush. Sandor carries you to safety and takes care of you.

Tags: #so much hurt/comfort, #a teensy bit of angst, #fluffy ending, #potentially OOC Sandor Clegane but personally I think he is pretty baby girl, #request

Warnings: Gender Neutral, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blood and injury, mentions of death, cannon compliant threats of violence, no beta and no ‘ragrets' [1,371 words]

AN: This is a request by @agender-wolfie. I really hope that this is what you were looking for! It came out a bit longer than I intended, but I am such a sucker for hurt/comfort tropes I really shouldn’t be surprised lmao. I wrote this all in one sitting and I haven’t done any editing so please excuse any errors. Happy reading! 🦋 Love BB

If you like this work my requests are currently open! So please give me your ideas ;)

You hissed a curse, gravelly and threadbare, as Sandor sidestepped another fallen tree.

A jumble of vulgar expressions that barely registered to you as they left your mouth. Almost all of them taught to you by the giant man holding you to his chest. The hound cradled you surprisingly gently, but his tension was evident. It was written all over him.

His scarred face, which you so rarely got the opportunity to study, was pulled into a broken grimace. The rest of him taut like a wire ready to snap beneath his armour. If you weren’t bleeding all over him, you might have reached up to prod the furrow of his brow. A silly attempt to smooth away Sandor’s permanent scowl.

The thought shattered as another wave pain tore through your ribs. Every bump in the path sowing fresh agony in the ruined skin and muscle.

Sandor ran a calloused thumb over the side of your knee in apology. Uttering clumsy noises of comfort as he picked up the pace.

“We’re almost there. Hold on just a bit longer, little bird.”

His gruff voice was cut with a noticeable amount of panic. Your brow scrunched at the unusual sound. You had gotten used to many things about Sandor as you travelled North with him. His rough sense of humour, bitter attitude, scarred face and huge stature were familiar to you by now. Underneath those things, his kindness and his softheartedness had become apparent to you too.

All the vulnerable pieces of himself that he smothered and choked beneath layers of vulgar humour and recklessness, had been presented to you in glimpses as you got to know him. But panic? Panic was new to you.

The farmhouse that Sandor had marked out in the distance finally drew into view. Up close it was a measly grey thing. The stone masonry looked haphazard at best but its chimney puffed with life. Behind it a barn lay with its doors open and rattling in the freezing wind.

You expected Sandor to head straight for the shelter of the barn but instead he strode to the front door. The family of four, seated around the dining room table inside, scrambled back as he slammed open the door with his usual subtlety. Which was to say— none at all.

You groaned as the sudden movement jostled your wound. Normally you would have chastised him for being so rude but your head was swimming. Too weak to lift your hand, you focused your energy on your eyes. Willing them to stay open, if not for your sake then for the sake of your worried companion.

An old man stepped forward to speak but Sandor cut him off, “One of you better be a healer, because if they die I will mount all of your heads outside on sticks.”

It was an ugly threat and they paled. The youngest boy whimpered looking suddenly ill. A younger woman with dark hair and a generous smattering of freckles stepped forward. She gestured a slightly shaky hand towards the table before him, before turning to her family.

“Clear the table, quickly. We can lay them down here,” her attention shifted back to the massive man standing in the doorway, “I’m not a healer by profession but I’ll do everything I can.”

Sandor seemed pleased enough by this answer. The rest of the family had been wise enough not to put up a fight and so Sandor stepped forward. He eased his grip and lay you down on the hastily cleared surface.

He moved to step away and let this stranger do her work but you whimpered. Fingertips clutching at air until he shifted back into reach.

A leather belt was stuffed between your teeth as your tunic was torn up the side. Unfamiliar hands grasped at your arms and legs. Holding you down with a bruising grip. All the while, Sandor brushed his bloodied fingers over your forehead and through your hair. The warmth of his skin a small consolation for the pain you were about to endure.

The woman lifted a needle and thread. With a glance at Sandor and his affirming nod she began to count down and you closed your eyes, unable to look.

Three.

Two.

One.

Fire. Your body was on fire. You arched off the table. Trying to escape the agony, the needle slowly piecing your flesh back together. The table shook as you thrashed but the hands holding you down didn’t falter. Sandor’s gravely words of comfort were the last things ringing in your ears as the world went black.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing that you noticed when you woke up was the lack of pain. Your side still ached, the wound tender, but it was a dull throbbing now. No longer, the screaming torture it was as Sandor carried you away from where you were ambushed.

The second was the warmth. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this warm since you and Sandor had journeyed across the border into the North. Sandor.

You opened your eyes slowly. The lighting was dim but from what you could tell you were inside the barn. The door was closed now though and soft orange candlelight illuminated the space.

You lay on your good side underneath a thick layer of blankets, and next to you lay the man your eyes sought for. His arm tucked you to him, large calloused hand resting somewhere on your lower back.

His heart thudded rhythmically beneath where your head lay on his chest. His even breathing and faint snores filled the quiet. Despite your inner protests it was the most comfortable you had been in years.

You gazed up at him, not wanting to wake him just yet. Sandor didn’t sleep nearly enough and you were content to watch the way the candlelight danced across his skin. It caught on his scarred cheek. Shadows flickering on the panes of his face.

Unable to resist you lifted a hand to his cheek. Your touch was featherlight but his eyes snapped open. Sandor’s gaze flicked to you immediately. Scanning you for distress and finding none, his body relaxed.

“Seven Hells, I thought you were going to die. Never do that again,” he said gruffly. His cheeks were flushed but he made no move to shift away from you.

Your voice was cracked from screaming but you still managed to mumble, “M’Sorry.”

Sandor sighed, “It wasn’t your fault, little bird.” He reached into his pack and pulled out a water-skein. Unscrewing the top he held it out towards you.

“Here, drink. Then you can go back to sleep,” he said.

“Thank you.”

The moisture eased the pain in your throat and soon you were snuggled back up under Sandor’s arm. The wind howled through the rafters and you both sat in silence for a little while.

Your thoughts broke the quiet, “Thank you for carrying me here. Thank you for staying.”

Sandor’s eyes met yours, they were unguarded and soft in a way that seemed reserved for you. Reserved for these conversations in the dark.

His voice was low as he replied, “I would have carried you to the ends of the earth, little bird.”

You studied him, the scars that mottled his skin, the cut on his brow and the curl of his mouth. Something deep within you settled, like a cat stretching out on a rug.

“You’re a good man, Sandor Clegane,” you said.

The conviction in your voice hit him harder than any blow on the battlefield ever had. The tidal wave of emotions that followed threatened to take him under but he swallowed them down.

You pretended not to notice his watery eyes and he lifted his spare hand to stroke your head. “Go to sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

You nodded sleepily, too tired to fight it off any longer. A few seconds pass before you feel it. The soft press of his lips on your forehead. They linger there for a while before he pulls back, the warmth that they leave behind searing like a brand on your skin. You smile as you drift off, lulled to sleep by his warm embrace and steady breathing.

“Goodnight, little bird.”

[maybe-a-bi-witch]

You're my Best Friend (nanami kento x reader)

A longer fic version of this

Best friends to lovers with Nanami Kento. Fluff, a little tiny bit of angst but a Happy ending. Mild spoilers. Set in the early 2000s. I was thinking about what to call this and became inspired by the song "You are in love" by Taylor Swift

a/n: this is my first fic like this, i hope you guys like it. Feedback is super appreciated <3

"You're a…what?", you say in disbelief, trying to figure out if your normally level headed best friend has officially gone insane.

"A sorcerer", Kento says slowly, as if he hasn't fully accepted it either. "In the world, there's cursed energy and some people, sorcerers, are capable of using it. Usually to fight curses." 

Your mouth hangs agape as you wonder if this is some prank he's playing on you. But Kento has never lied to you before. (although he's never claimed monsters and sorcerers were real either.)

"I believe you", you say finally, to Kento's relief, "I mean this sounds completely insane but I trust you."

He finally cracks a small smile before frowning as he remembers something. "That's not all"

"What? Don't tell me aliens are real too"

"They want me to go to a school that trains sorcerers" he swallows before continuing, "in Tokyo"

You feel your heart stop as you realise that means you'll hardly see him anymore. Ever since preschool, the one constant in your life has been Nanami Kento. Sitting in class, eating lunch, walking home, no matter what you did or where you were, he was always by your side. 

You can't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him, you just remember waking up one day and knowing. Maybe it was when he would ask the teachers questions for you in preschool, or in elementary school when he tried to bake you a cake by himself for your birthday. It might have been when he started reading all your favourite books so he could talk about them with you or when he spent half an hour trying to win you a teddy bear at an arcade. You may not know when you fell in love with him but you do know that loving Nanami Kento came as naturally as breathing.

"Promise you'll come back to visit", you say, trying to offer a smile. He nods, swearing that he'll never break a promise to you.

Nanami Kento remembers the exact moment he fell in love with you. It was fourth grade and your tenth birthday was coming up. He spent days looking up recipes and baking tutorials so that he could bake you the perfect cake. He spent hours on it. By the time he finished, his mom joked that there was more flour on him than in the cake but it was worth it to see the look on your face when he sowed it to you. The cake didn’t turn out great, the layers were uneven, the frosting was grainy and the entire thing was lopsided. When you saw it, you immediately started tearing up. At first he started apologising because he thought it was so bad that it made you cry. But then you threw your arms around his shoulders smiling widely and told him that nobody had ever done something so nice for you before. From that moment he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making you smile like that. 

“- and  I put some of the new Fall Out Boy songs on the playlist too. The new album isn’t their best but”, you stop as you see a strange look on his face. “What’s wrong Ken?” 

“Nothing’s wrong it’s just,” he pauses then says, “You’re my best friend”

“The cheesecake was good but I think next time I want to try the brownie”, you say, shivering as you step outside the new bakery Kento brought you to. “I told you to bring a jacket, " he says, frowning while he takes off his sweater to give you. 

“I didn’t think it would be this cold!” you say trying to defend yourself as you tell him to keep his sweater on so he doesn’t freeze. “I’m not feeling that cold anyway”, he says as he forces the soft material into your hands. 

You put it on, closing your eyes as you feel the warm embrace of the fabric. “It smells like you”, you say before clarifying, “in a good way, I mean.” He just laughs and shakes his head before walking you back home. 

He laughs the same way years later, when you reveal that you slept in the sweater for a week, only stopping once it didn’t smell like him anymore. 

“Kento I know you’re in there!”, you shout, knocking on his bedroom door. “Your mom told me you were home.” He opens the door with a sigh before looking down at you and asking what you were doing here. As he gazes at you, you notice the deep eyebags that weren't there before, and a hardness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

“I’m here because my best friend disappeared! Because you haven’t responded to my texts, or IMs or emails for weeks and I needed to know that you were okay”

“Well you can see that I’m fine. Thank you for checking on me, but you can go now.”

“Fine? Really” , you scoff, pushing your way into the dark room. “You won’t talk to me, your parents told me that you barely say a word to them and you clearly haven’t been sleeping! I want to help you Ken. I want to be there for you but you keep pushing me away.” Your voice softens before you continue, “I know you and Haibara were really close. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now”

“Exactly, you don’t know how I’m feeling right now and I hope that you never do”, he yells , “I’ve seen what this life can do to people, I’ve seen the toll it takes on the people left behind. I could die at any moment while on a mission, and I don’t want you to have to feel that kind of loss! I love you too much to put you through that! It’s better this way.” 

“Better for who Kento? Because I’m already miserable without you and you don’t seem to be doing much better! I know that being a sorcerer is dangerous and that something could happen to you. But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than to live life alone, because you’re worried about what might happen?”, you feel tears welling in your eyes before you continue, “I’m in love with you Kento and I don’t care how risky your life is. I’m willing to face any amount of pain if it means keeping you in my life. I would rather have you, and risk losing you, than not have you and lose you anyway.”

Kento feels his world stop spinning as soon as the words ‘I’m in love with you’ spill out of your lips. His mouth hangs open as he tries to figure out what to say. The only words that he manages to get out are, “Can I kiss you” as he leans closer. You nod slowly as you move towards him. 

You can feel his breath tickle your face before his lips finally descend to capture yours. Something warm grows in his chest, like the first flowers of spring blooming after a long winter. The entire world around him disappears as he feels your soft lips dancing against his own. His hands move gently to cup your face as he deepens the kiss. You snake your arms around his waist, feeling the soft caress of his hands on your cheeks. Feelings left unsaid for years come bubbling up and overflows.

When you two finally break apart to breathe, you notice a familiar look in his eyes. And this time, you knew what it was. 

He is in love

a/n: I'm not a huge fan of the title banner i made but lmk what you guys think.

tag list: @jasminelee324

[lumiereandstellaluna]

Thomasin looks at her phone – the reason for all this insanity. Her life changed when, while playing her beloved game, a message popped up on her screen, asking her if she wanted to become Stellaluna for real. She didn’t think much of it when she pressed “yes”, thinking it was just some pop-up ad for another game or a publicity stunt. 

Spoiler alert – it was definitely not a pop-up ad or a publicity stunt.

Her life changed the day when she came face to face with one of the monsters in her games - along with Xavier, who valiantly engaged with the horrific beast. Though he was a fine warrior, it was clear that he could not subdue the beast on his own.

That's where she came in.

Using her lunar charm, she turned into Stellaluna, her character from the game and his fated partner. Together, they fight against the mythical monsters, known as Wanderers, to keep Linkon City safe from harm.

Art of Lumiere by the talented Kirakanjo! (18+, Minors DNI)

[gojo-mochi]

You should do Ace and Law for the I'm hungry fic 🔥🔥🔥

Content Warning: Suggestive, Fem!Reader, I made Ace a bit subby OTL It my first time writing him.

Pairings: Ace x Reader and Law x Reader

Word Count: 1108

A/N: Sorry it took so long! Omgoshh Hope you like it Meg!! Thank you for the request!

Law:

You strut into his office like you own the place. Hips swaying in what you thought was a seductive way. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend did not spare you a single glance other than the raised eyebrow he gave you when you first walked in. His gaze focused on the stack of papers and books sitting neatly in order on his desk. You made your own in front of his desk, having a one sided staring contest with Law, as Law was having his staring contest with the paper in his hand. He wasn’t even reading the damn paper! His eyes were solely focused on one spot on the paper, like he was burning a hole in it, when in reality he was just trying really hard not to make eye contact with you.

He did love you, he did!

He just knew your antics by now and did not want to deal with them. "Law….dear…" You drawl out slowly. Law’s eyebrow twitched slightly. "Yes, my love?" he sighs out after a few moments of silence. You smile widely, finally getting the attention you deserve. You lean over on his desk, making sure that your low-cut tee is pulled down enough so that your boyfriend can see everything. You slammed one hand down on the messy stacks of paper, while the other grabbed on to his collar, pulling him close.

"You know it's really late at night, and you've been working in the office all day.." Law's face twitches at that; he knows he has been too focused on his work lately and neglecting you. Before he could say anything or apologize, you leaned back from the desk and walked around the side. Once you reach Law, you spin his chair around to face you, settling your hand on his shoulder, then slowly trailing downward as you say.

"I was getting awfully hungry while you were gone... You know that my own fingers can’t satisfy me anymore." Your fingers danced along his torso, the waistband of his pants, before finally settling down on both of his thighs, squeezing them lightly. Causing Law to choke a bit on his spit. You squeezed on his thighs a bit harder, leaning forward to see Law’s blushing face, but before you could get any closer for a kiss, you saw Law’s lips first move before you heard "Room."

And now you were the one being pinned back against the chair with Law’s thigh in between yours, pressing against your core, while your wrists were being pinned down to the arm rests. You let out a squeak, trying to pull yourself out of Law’s iron grip on you, but he just chuckles and leans in closer, the scent of his cologne entering your nose as he breathes out. "I’m just giving my girl what she asked for, so lean back and take it."

(A/N: No brain power rn but if this get requested more I make might the actual smut part next)

Ace:

You don’t know why you were even surprised; Ace was pulling you by the arm straight to bother Thatch. A bit earlier, you woke him up from a nap in his room by straddling his lap and groping his toned thighs. You whispered to Ace’s groggy form that you were "Hungry.." and that was all Ace seemed to understand as his stomach immediately rumbled and he shot up, almost knocking you off the bed, but he managed to grab you by the waist before you could.

"Sorry Y/N! Haha, my stomach works faster than my brain, it seems!" He smiles brightly at you, making your heart flutter even though you were slightly annoyed that your plan was ruined once again by Ace’s never ending hunger. So now you're here, bothering Thatch to make more food. Well, Ace was the only one yelling, you were just there silently giving apologies to Thatch for bothering him so late again. Once Thatch had enough of Ace and kicked him out with you trailing behind, you had to console your boyfriend, softly rubbing his shoulders as his head hung down.

"It’s alright, baby, we can steal some of Marco’s snack stash, okay?" You cooed, gently smoothing your thumb over Ace’s shoulder blades. "But! That won’t be enough for the both of us! And Marco is getting better at hiding his stash too." Ace grumbled, crossing his arms on top of his knees and burying his head down. You get down to his level and press soft kisses to the top of his head and then to his weak spot on the back of his neck as you wrap your arms loosely around his form. You can feel Ace shiver a bit from your lips being pressed against his warm skin.

You trail your kisses back up his nape, slowly making each kiss wetter than the last, all the way up to the lobe of his ear, which you take between your teeth. Ace whined out loudly in a different tone than before, and the sound echoed a bit in the hallway you were both still in. "Bab-Babe! What are you doing?" His whole body was turning a bit red, and you could see a tent pitching in his favorite shorts that he always wears, even to sleep. You let go of his ear and purr into his ear, "Sorry~ I just can’t seem to help myself... just getting so hungry~" Your hands roamed around his body and onto his thigh, just beside the area he wanted you to touch the most.

Ace parts his thigh out, whimpering and panting, giving you a confused look as he tilts his head back to meet your eyes. "Wai-wait, Thatch already kicked us out.. Hahhh.. And I know Marco's not going to share an-any-ahh-mmffhh…" Ace bites his hands to muffle the needy sounds coming out. You decide to give him some release or just perhaps tease him some more by palming on his length. Ace bit down hard on his hand, almost causing it bleed as he cried out some more moans. Oh, baby, I wasn’t hungry for that kind of snack, I wanted something more filling." You made sure to press down hard at the last word.

Then, without any warning, you unwrapped yourself from Ace and started walking away. Ace was left stunned on the ground for a few moments until you motioned for him to come with a wave of your hand, and he instantly stood up and ran after you like a puppy, almost smacking straight into your back. The two of you head back to Ace’s room for a night of fun…

[its-luna-noel]

puppy chronicles

01. the broken puppy | gojo x reader

The JJK men are gifted a hybrid puppy. ...wait, that kind of puppy? alpha!human!jjk men x omega!hybrid!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, hybrid!au, omegaverse, hybrid!reader, omega!reader, clan leader!gojo, pet play, collars/leashes, previous abuse, smut, masturbation, heat/rut, knots, oral (f! receiving), mating press

word count: 7.4k next: the obedient puppy | geto x reader

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi there, i couldn't get the idea out of my head so here it is, this is my first a/b/o fic so i hope you enjoy! this one is more exposition-heavy than i plan for the following ones. next up is geto:)

When Satoru Gojo finally takes his seat as clan leader, there’s a line of people eager to pay their respects, to shower him in praise, to give him gifts.

He wants to send them all home; he has enough money to never need a single thing any of them give him, but he sits and smiles and accepts every gift, even from elders who grimace at him and wish he never inherited the techniques he did.

He can’t help but feel a little smug as they turn their back and leave.

It’s clear that many visitors are simply there to try and earn his approval, to get on his good side before he finally makes all the changes he’s dreamed of since he was a teenager, since he saw the injustices of the system they’ve created.

He can’t wait to raze it to the ground.

The procession continues for what feels like hours, until finally, the last visitor approaches his seat, an old woman hunched in her age. She shuffles towards Satoru, and he lets out a silent sigh. She’s one of the original elders, one of the traditionalists that he can’t wait to take down. He’s sure she’s convinced he shouldn’t even be clan leader, despite his power, simply because of his outlook.

Oh, well. Her opinions change very little for him.

She bows before him in a sign of deference. “A gift, for you,” she says, and he almost sighs again, because he doesn’t want whatever she has for him, whatever ceremonial robes or old book of rules or whatever bullshit she’s here to give him.

Instead of handing over a dusty tome or a delicate box, she turns to the side and beckons over one of the bystanders.

Satoru turns to look, still expecting some traditional gift that only a corpse would hand over. But his throat constricts, and his eyes widen, and he’s staring at the young man who approaches.

The man’s hand is clenched, and around his fist is wound a black leather leash, which is pulled taut to keep its captive at heel. The clip of the leash is linked to a matching black leather collar, a silver o-ring pressed into the soft throat of its wearer. And then, startling blue eyes catch on bare skin, and there you are, head bowed and hair curtained around your face as you crawl on all fours towards his seat.

Satoru fights to swallow. He doesn’t know whether to feel disgusted or…aroused. “What is this?” he asks.

The old woman smiles, like the situation isn’t anything strange. “A hybrid puppy,” she says, “for your entertainment.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows again; his cock bobs as it twitches in his pants. “This is inhumane,” he replies, staring at you, and he tries to pretend that he’s looking at you with concern instead of with rapt attention.

The woman just continues to smile. “Sir, it’s tradition. Take this gift and enjoy.”

And then the leash is placed into Satoru’s waiting hand, and he holds the leather limply as the surrounding crowd bleeds out of the building.

Leaving the two of you alone.

Satoru’s six eyes are all focused on you, examining every part of you, every part of your beautiful body. You’re wearing nothing but the leather collar and a black leather harness, a strappy thing with small silver o-rings at each juncture. From beneath your hair poke two fluffy puppy ears, swiveled backwards in submission, and at the end of your spine is a matching fluffy tail, long beautiful fur obviously well-groomed. Your eyes are on the floor, your hair still obscuring your face, but you sit obediently on your heels, waiting for his command.

You don’t even tug on the leash once.

Satoru swallows again, because his mouth is so dry at the sight of you and all your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your body only broken by erotic black leather, your nipples hard in the slight chill of the quiet room.

His hand tightens around the leash.

He has to take a deep breath, to look away for a moment to gather himself because jesus christ you’re his in every meaning of the word, and the alpha inside him can’t get over that need to touch that body of yours offered so obediently to him. But the rational part of his mind, the human part, recognizes how vulnerable you are right now, how small and helpless you look at the foot of his seat. So he takes another deep breath and finally speaks, finally addresses the hybrid puppy at his feet.

“Are…are you okay?”

The question surprises you; no one’s ever asked you that. You don’t raise your eyes from the floor as you nod.

He’s silent for another moment. Then he speaks again. “Let’s…let’s get you dressed.”

He stands from his seat, and for a moment he’s towering over you, seeing how small and fucking delicious you look at his feet, and he again has to bite back an overwhelming desire to kneel behind you and bite all over you, marking you as his. But he holds back, and he takes yet another deep breath. “Come on…you can stand.”

You freeze at the words; you’ve never been encouraged to stand, to bring yourself up out of your submissive position in order to stand at the same level as those around you. You’ve always been treated like a pet, a puppy, something cute to pet and something sexy to use. And so, in your shock, you finally raise your eyes from the floor, and you look up at him, checking to make sure he really means it.

And then you meet pretty blue eyes, startling in their depth, their brightness, and you’re lost in them for a moment as you wait for confirmation.

He offers a gentle smile, but it wavers like he’s in pain. “It’s alright,” he softly encourages, nodding down to you. “You can stand.”

So you push yourself off the cold floor, stumbling on wobbling legs as you rise to your feet, and he steps forward to catch you, hands catching yours to steady you. “It’s alright,” he says again, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, and you think maybe it’s because he thinks you’re a disgusting hybrid, a little freak, but it’s actually because he’s torn between pitying you and wanting to slam you down onto the floor and fuck you right there, his cock already starting to strain against his pants because he can feel your heat, can feel how soft your hands are, can only imagine how good they’d feel elsewhere– He shakes the thought away.

His large, warm hand rests between your shoulder blades as he leads you out of the audience room of his family home, which now belongs all to him.

He leads you down hallways, through the labyrinth of the Gojo family grounds, across the property until you’re finally following him into his bedroom. A flash of apprehension and even fear spikes into your chest, but you try to swallow it because this is your purpose, this is your calling, to be an obedient little puppy for Satoru Gojo, to follow every order and be the good girl you know you can be. And so once you’re at the bed, you turn to look at him, turn to see if he’s expecting you to go back onto your knees and worship him as the clan leader he is.

Instead he smiles softly, moving to gently pet your hair and your fluffy puppy ears. But when he raises his hand towards your face, you flinch back, averting your eyes towards the ground. And he has to fight to swallow, because he knows puppies only react like that when they’ve been hit before, and a burning fury wells in his chest at the injustice of it all. Who could possibly hurt such a pretty, precious girl? He drops his hand, leaving you untouched, and repeats in a quiet voice, “Let’s get you dressed.”

He has to help you out of the harness, the strappy leather full of confusing buckles and rings. But his practiced fingers make short work of it, and he’s sliding the fabric away, tossing it onto the floor for him to take care of later. Then he moves his deft hands to the collar on your throat, and you flinch once more, like you’re afraid of the power he has when holding you there.

He doesn’t tug, or tighten, or hurt you. He just unbuckles the leather and steps back, holding the collar and leash in his hand as he watches you.

You stare up at him, eyes wide and confused. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve been without a collar, and your throat feels strangely bare without it. Almost unconsciously, you raise your hand to touch your bare skin, fingertips stroking over the cartilage of your trachea…

You’re not sure if he’s giving you freedom or if he’s showing you that you aren’t worthy of his collar. The thought makes your stomach clench, and all of a sudden, tears are welling in your eyes, and your tail tucks between your legs because you can’t bear to think about what will happen to you if you cry right now, but you can’t help it, how have you already lost your collar, you haven’t done anything bad have you–?

Satoru sees your reaction, and his eyes widen, and he drops the collar on the mattress like he doesn’t even care about what that piece of leather symbolizes, and it just makes you cry harder, until sobs shake your shoulders and big, fat tears cascade down soft, round cheeks.

His hands come up to cup those cheeks, thumbs brushing tears away, though they’re quickly replaced with more. You avert your eyes, your fluffy ears pinned down in distress and apprehension, and even though he’s touching you so gently, you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to raise his hand against you for being an emotional little wreck; you’re supposed to be a fun toy, an amusement park attraction, something to gaze at and play with, not something to watch bawl your little eyes out.

Satoru’s not angry; he’s just starting to panic.

“Sweet girl,” he says, and his voice is so soft and gentle when he speaks, his thumbs still stroking your cheeks, “I just want you to be comfortable. Do you want your collar back? Would that make you happier?”

You whimper, not wanting to say yes, because you shouldn’t have to ask for a collar; he should want to give it to you, should want you to wear his ownership proudly.

His heart nearly breaks at your expression, at how big and watery your puppy eyes look, and he just gently shushes you again, leaning a little closer as his fingers continue to just gently brush over your skin. “It’s okay. I want to get you something you like, alright? Something that fits you better, something that’s ours alone. Is that okay, pretty girl?”

You nod a little, still looking miserable, but the idea of getting a new collar, one that he picks out, one that’s more personal to what he wants from you, soothes a bit of your heartache. You reach up and wipe your tears with the back of your hand, and Satoru can’t help but smile at the endearing motion. One of his hands trails to your chin, giving a gentle squeeze between his thumb and forefinger.

“It’s alright,” he comforts you again, taking a slow step back to give you some room to breathe. You almost don’t want him to; you want him to be close, want him to touch you, want him to grab you, to treat you like a thing to be played with, an object to be thrown around and pinned down and taken–

He doesn’t. And his gentle hands almost burn on your arms, almost ache on your skin, because you don’t understand why he’s doing this. What’s in it for him?

Satoru notices your apprehension, how timid you seem while you wait for him to finally snap and show you how much of an animal he can be, too.

But he doesn’t seem angry with you, nor derisive, nor aggressive; instead he still seems endlessly caring as he hands you clothes from his own wardrobe. He turns back to you, trying not to look at your naked body, at the smooth expanses of skin now unbroken by the leather you’d been strapped into when you arrived. And instead of dressing you like your previous handlers would’ve, he gives you back your autonomy and lets you dress yourself.

The gesture probably means little to him, but for you it’s monumental.

He lets you get dressed, his eyes respectfully averted (even though he’s already seen everything, through the strappy harness you were wearing), and while his gaze is on the opposite wall, you take the opportunity to examine him. He’s handsome, that much you can admit, and seemingly much kinder than the previous handlers you’ve had. He let you stand, let you dress yourself, let you get out of that flimsy outfit you were strapped into before you met him. And you almost want to thank him, but you know better than to speak out of turn, so you just get dressed in what he gave you, warm sweatpants and a big t-shirt that hangs off your shoulders. When you’re done, he clears his throat and returns his gaze to you.

God, you look so adorable in his clothes.

His eyes are soft as he watches you stand there, shoulders stooped in submission, like you’re waiting to be kicked while you’re down. An ache worms its way into his chest, because he doesn’t know how anyone could treat a pretty puppy like you with such an unforgiving hand.

A pretty, obedient, broken little puppy.

But he, even if he can’t admit it to himself, can’t resist saving something broken.

He tilts his head curiously, and he can’t help but ask, “Can you…um, sorry if this is, uh, rude, but… can you speak?”

You nod.

The corners of his lips twitch in a hint of a smile. “Can you say something, then?”

You hesitate, and then in a soft voice, almost like you’re afraid it’s a trap, you ask, “What do you want me to say?”

His smile grows a little when he hears your voice, quiet and timid. “Anything. Whatever you want.”

And so you think for a moment, because you’re so rarely allowed to speak your mind, to say whatever you want, and really at this moment there’s only one thing you want to say. Your fluffy tail swishes nervously from side to side, and you avert your gaze as you whisper, “Thank you.”

His eyes soften once more, and his voice is just as quiet when he asks, “For what?”

You just shrug, eyes on the floor. It’s clear you’re done speaking now, so he decides not to push. Instead he leads you down the hall to the guest bedroom and swings the door open, revealing a plush bed stacked with half a dozen pillows and several blankets.

You can’t help it; your tail wags a little at the sight. You’ve never had your own bed.

Satoru watches your tail swish from side to side, smiling softly. Then he gently tells you, “This room is yours, as long as you want it. Get some rest, alright? I’ll come find you in the morning. Feel free to go down to the kitchen if you get hungry, or come find me if you need anything.” Somehow, he’s pretty sure you won’t be leaving the room for the night, too shy to ask for anything even if you needed it.

So he leaves you with one last smile, and he returns to his room, and his door isn’t even latched all the way before he shoves down his pants and drags out his aching cock, one hand steadying himself against the bedroom door and his teeth digging into his lower lip as his thumb brushes the aching, blushing tip, smearing precum along the slit as he fucks dry into his hand.

He closes his eyes, biting his lip even harder to hold in the whimpers because he can’t get the image of you in that black leather harness out of his mind, the way your tits bounced with every step, your perky nipples hard in the cool air of the estate. How you looked on a leash, at his feet with your perfect fucking pussy on full display for his perverted fucking eyes– Fuck–!

His hips cant forward, stuttering as he squeezes the base of his dick, and he can’t believe he’s touching himself over the thought of your pretty mouth, the way they looked when you spoke, when you thanked him. He wants to give you something to thank him about.

He wants to heal you, wants you to speak, to smile, to laugh. Wants to see that tail wagging again, this time so fast back and forth because you can’t contain your joy.

He wants to save you.

And so, with shoulders heaving and a pathetic little moan stuck in his throat, he cums in his hand, imagining that it was your tight little hole he emptied himself into.

Then, feeling ashamed for the way he objectified you the way you were clearly so afraid of, he cleans up and goes to bed, determined to make it up to you, even if you had no clue what he did behind closed doors.

~

The next morning, when Satoru knocks on the guest room door and pokes his head in, you’re already up, sitting on the bed with perky ears and a wagging tail.

He smiles a little; you look much better than you did last night, with a soft light in your eyes. It looks like sleeping in your own bed and not being subservient for one night lit a bit of a fire under you, and you look like the happy little puppy that you should be. “Hey,” he greets softly, leaning against the doorframe. “Can I come in?”

You nod, tail wagging softly against the sheets. You watch him come into the bedroom, his steps light and quiet, and you can tell he’s trying not to scare you, trying not to force you back into your timid unease from last night. He sits gingerly on the end of the bed, watching you the entire time to make sure he’s not making you uncomfortable by being this close.

You’re not uncomfortable. Your tail wags a little faster, and his smile widens.

“I had my assistant cancel all my meetings today,” he tells you. “We’re gonna go shopping, alright? Get you some things, like toiletries and clothes. Okay?”

You nod, and tilt your head a little to the side. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak your mind.

Your voice is still soft and tentative when you speak, like you’re still scared he’ll raise a hand against you if you do. The thought makes his stomach ache. “A…collar?” you ask, and your ears go back nervously, like you’re ashamed to ask for what you want so dearly.

He smiles and nods. “Yeah, I’ll get you a collar, sweet girl. Something we both like.”

So he takes you shopping around town, letting you get anything you like, willing to get anything you ask for. You’re still so soft and timid, but he can pick up on how your eyes catch on a dress you like, on how those eyes widen when you see beautiful jewelry, on how those eyes close when you smell various high end perfumes.

He gets you anything you like, and he can’t help but enjoy spoiling his new puppy.

As you walk along streets and peruse different shops, he glances over at you, unsure if he should ask what he’s been wondering. But he figures if you react poorly he can just make sure you spoil you that much more, so he clears his throat and says, “So…tell me about yourself.”

You glance over, fingers trailing the soft fabric of a sweater you found. “Like what?”

“Anything. Where are you from?”

“The city.”

“What’s your family like?”

You shrug a little, turning your back on the sweater when you see the price tag. Satoru just picks it up anyway and drapes it over his arm. “I don’t really know. I was born and raised in a puppy mill.”

That pulls him up short. A puppy mill? “What?”

You just shrug again, keeping your eyes averted. “It’s pretty common for hybrids these days. Everyone’s trying to make money selling us. Usually they’re bought young, but some of us, like me, are kept past 18 to be trained as collector items.”

That makes him sick to his stomach. “Collector items? That’s…that’s awful, sweet girl.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He’s frowning at you, watching you navigate the small shop, unsure of how you’re responding to this so casually. “I’m sure they didn’t treat you well there, did they?”

Your voice is quiet. “I guess not.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“They have to train us somehow.”

Satoru can’t decide if he wants to break something or throw up. ���Sweet girl, that’s not how it’s supposed to be. You know that, don’t you?”

You just shrug once more, and he’s not sure how to convince you that you should be treated well. Besides just doing it himself.

So that’s what he decides to do.

He can spoil you, and pet you, and give you treats and do anything else your little puppy heart desires, and that’s what he promises to himself. To give you the care, the respect, the adoration you rightly deserve.

Then, finally, he lets you pick a new collar, this one soft and pink, much daintier than the black leather that once adorned your throat. He holds it up, glancing between the accessory and your soft neck, imagining how it will look on you and making sure he likes the mental image. Then he nods, smiles down at you, and pays for that, too.

You’re practically buried in shopping bags when you arrive back at the estate.

Satoru helps you put away your things in the guest bedroom, which he now guesses belongs to you. He hangs up your new clothes in the closet, turning away as you push his sweatpants down over your hips, getting changed into a new outfit that he bought you.

Somehow, that makes him feel just as possessive as seeing you in his clothes.

Then, finally, when you’re dressed and comfortable, he reaches into the final bag to grab your new pretty, pink collar with gentle hands, his long, pale fingers wrapping around the leather. Then he steps in front of you once more, his hands brushing aside your hair in order to bare your throat for him, and you stand perfectly still, accepting your collar.

He gently buckles the collar around your neck, the o-ring resting against your throat once again. The coolness of the metal and the soft touch of leather is almost comforting, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers gently stroke the rings of cartilage on the column of your trachea, and your lips part a little at the touch, your chin tilting up to give him more room. You watch his eyes, waiting to see if he’s going to grab you and force you against the wall, to take you like you know a strong alpha like him can–

But he doesn’t. He just slowly pulls away and offers another soft smile. “It looks great on you,” he tells you.

And now, seeing the collar that he chose, that he bought, he knows you’re fully his. And that is a responsibility in and of itself, a responsibility to help you heal from whatever it is you’ve been through.

~

The next several days pass without incident, and you slowly get more and more comfortable at the Gojo estate.

You walk around without a leash, your collar still pressed into your throat, on your own two feet, slowly coming out of your subservient nature to become a happy little puppy. Satoru can’t help but smile as he watches you move around his space, around his home. Your tail wags whenever you see him, betraying your excitement, and he can’t help but be endeared by the emotive gesture.

It’s not until your first heat that Satoru starts to struggle.

You’d been on heat suppressants until you came to the estate, and Satoru honestly just forgot that it was important to get you back on hormones if he wanted to respect you and your timid boundaries.

The moment your scent breaks, cloying and sweet, so fucking delicious, he almost throws the dinner table out of the way to get to you and scent you. But instead he just looks up in surprise, and you’re already a blushing, stuttering mess as you scramble from your seat, ears pinned back anxiously. You haven’t had a heat in years, and you’re not sure how to deal with one at this new home, given to this handsome, kind alpha who has taken such good care of you since you were gifted to him.

Despite how hard he’s fighting it, you can see the hunger in his eyes.

His pupils are fully dilated, blown so wide his beautiful blue eyes are just a rim of sapphire around black. He grits his teeth, knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists, hoping his nails digging into his palms will keep him together long enough to get you comfortable and then run like hell to get away from your sugary sweet scent.

His voice is strained when he speaks. “Go on back to your room, okay? I’ll have my assistant bring you some blankets and cushions, and you can get comfortable.” He doesn’t even mention what he wants so desperately to say, that if you start aching, if you need someone, just call his name and he’ll come running to soothe the pain. He assumes you don’t want it.

When he doesn’t offer, you just nod and back away a step, tail hanging low. He must think you’re some disgusting animal, to not want to let out his alpha instincts on you. Must think you’re a freak to not want to bury himself inside you, to give you his knot for your first heat in years.

You don’t let him see your disappointment, your hurt.

You go back to your room, and you’re whimpering into your pillow with how hot and wet you feel, your heat coming back with a vengeance after being on hormones for so long. You bury yourself under the blankets, curling up to ease that cramping ache deep in your core, that need for the alpha that’s only a few hundred feet away.

The alpha who’s fucking his hand – again – right there at the kitchen table because your scent is still in his nose, wrapped around him as he pants and groans, his fist slamming down against the wooden table so hard the legs creak and moan.

His assistant brings you a pile of blankets, pillows, and cushions, getting you ready for nesting. You use your teeth and paws to make a nest, spinning around in circles and tamping down the base of your nest before using cushions and blankets to set up little walls, creating a cozy, dark environment for you to ride out your heat.

Satoru slowly comes back down, going to wash up in the bathroom before he approaches your room. He feels better now, having worked out his aching frustration into his fist, and he wants to check on you to see how you’re doing.

He knocks on the door, steeling himself before swinging it open and poking his head in. He sees your nest, a pile of cushions and blankets all organized in your own way, and he can’t help but smile at the sight, so fucking endeared by how good you are, what a beautiful little puppy you are. “Hey,” he greets, and every time he breathes he can smell you, smell how sweet you are.

Your head pops up out of your nest, and his heart aches at the adorable sight. He can hear your tail wagging against the cushions. “Hi,” you say, and your voice is so soft and quiet, so sweet, that he has to fight not to just push his way in and hold you, because he knows if he crosses that line everything else will just fall away, and it’ll be far to easy to come in and take what he wants, what he thinks you both need.

He steps into the room, movements slow and cautious, not wanting to scare you in your vulnerable position. “How are you doing?”

Your tail is still wagging, moving even faster as he walks a little closer. How are you doing? You’re desperate, you want him, you want to touch him, you want him to use you like the puppy you were supposed to be. Your collar feels nice and comfortable, and you want him to clip a leash onto it and tug and pull, to force you to heel while you take his knot like a good girl.

You don’t say any of that. Instead you say, “Okay. It hurts.”

He makes a soft sound of sympathy, moving a little closer. “I know it does. Do you want some company in there?”

You perk up, and you nod a little, moving away from the entrance to your little nest you made, blankets and cushions arranged in a nice little fort with enough room for both of you. You’re curled up in a corner, and he slowly crawls in, closing his eyes against the swirl of sweet scent that hits him once he’s in your nest.

It’s been so long since you’ve been in heat that you’re unused to how good he smells, how his musk fills your nose and you lean closer, snuffling like a true little puppy as you crawl closer, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, nudging your nose against his scent glands at the base of his neck.

He chuckles quietly, his hands gentle as they rest on your waist, itching to pull you in and wrap you up. He fights the urge. “You like scenting me, huh?”

You nod, still sniffing at his glands, and the scent seems to calm you down a little. You curl up against his side, and you gently lap your tongue against the junction between his neck and shoulder.

He sucks in a sharp breath, body stiffening. “Sweet girl,” he says, voice tight. “Don’t do that.”

You pull back immediately, looking chastised. “M’sorry,” you say.

He looks down at you, examining your shy expression, how your eyes are still looking at that spot on his neck. Your tail is no longer wagging. “It’s alright,” he quietly replies, “but…you shouldn’t do that to just any alpha you come across. It’s very…intimate.”

You tilt your head a little. “You’re not just any alpha; you’re you.”

The statement floods him with equal measures of affection and possessiveness. He has to hold back a groan. “Sweet girl, I’m a patient man, but you can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” You sound stung.

His words come out in almost a growl. “Because I won’t be able to control myself.”

You whimper, and he thinks he’s scared you, but then you lean in a little closer. He can smell your scent even stronger now, and he almost groans, his fingers digging into your waist. “Stop controlling yourself. I’m a good puppy, I promise.”

He grows again. “I don’t doubt that. But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please.”

And so, because you’re begging, because he wants to spoil you, because he can’t deny you a goddamn thing, he grabs you, pulling you close. You gasp softly, hands coming to press against his chest as your big eyes gaze up at him. “Tell me you want this, sweet girl.”

You whisper, “I want this, Mr. Gojo.”

He grips you tighter. “Don’t you dare call me that,” he says, tugging your body against his. “When you moan my name, you better call me Satoru.”

And then he grips your hair in one hand and crushes his lips against yours.

You let out a relieved moan, the sound humming against his mouth. You let him carry the lead, let his lips part yours and his tongue brush into the wet heat of your mouth. His lips on yours starts to soothe the pain, the deep ache, but it makes a fire deep inside you burn hot. Your body curves into his, your fingers tentative as they curl into the hair at the back of his head.

He tastes so fucking good.

He pushes you back against the pillows and cushions, pinning you beneath his slim body. His mouth continues to move against yours for several long moments, until he starts to kiss down your neck, towards where the collar sits. You arch your back, curving your body further into his mouth. Your eyes flutter closed, and all you can do is feel as he brushes his tongue against your throbbing pulse.

Then he inches his way lower, and he nips at the collar, tugging on it playfully before pulling back to look at you, a small smile on his kiss-swollen lips.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs to you, bumping his nose affectionately against yours. “My perfect little puppy.”

He can hear your tail wagging as he dips closer once more.

He presses a line of kisses down your shoulder, over the top of your chest, nipping at your collarbones lightly, not even hard enough to leave a temporary mark. He’d love nothing more than to mark you up, to leave soft loving hickeys on your skin, but he also can’t stand the thought of leaving bruises on your soft little body when you’ve been through so much.

He won’t do it; not this first time.

His hands move to the hem of your sweater, one of the soft things he bought for you on your first little outing together. He pushes up the fabric to your ribs, fingertips brushing against the soft, smooth skin. You shiver, and he can’t hold back another smile at the feeling of you quivering under his hands. He pulls back enough to examine the look in your eyes, taking in the nervous expression there, how your ears are swiveling anxiously as he touches you so softly, something you’re still not used to.

“You okay?”

You nod, gazing back at him, chest rising and falling a little more rapidly with his hands on you.

“Can I keep going?”

“Oh, yes,” you whisper, and if you weren’t so self-conscious, you’d be begging.

He grins down at you, watching your pretty lashes flutter before diving back down, kissing the exposed flesh of your chest as he pulls your sweater up over your head and tosses it aside. His hands slide up your sides, tugging your body up into a pretty little arch so he can kiss down your torso. His tongue flicks over your nipple, and you whimper quietly when he starts to gently suck.

At the beautiful sounds you’re making, he’s grinding his hips into the soft cushions, searching for stimulation on his already sensitive cock.

He continues kissing down your body, until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He kisses along the line of fabric, kissing the soft skin just above it, until he uses his teeth to slowly, teasingly pull down the metal zipper. His blue eyes gaze up at you through white lashes, his lips curled into another small smile when your hips rise from your nest. He grips your plush hips, kneading the flesh before pulling down the denim fabric. Then his mouth is back on you, pressing kisses to your thighs, arms wrapping around your limbs and holding you in place while he swipes his long, burning tongue over the thin fabric of your underwear.

God, you’re already dripping.

He groans, lashes fluttering as his eyes fall closed at the sweet, decadent taste of your slick. He moves somehow closer, making out with your cunt through the fabric, drenching it with his spit as he continues to grind against the cushions.

“You taste so fucking good,” he growls into your pussy, lapping at the syrupy taste. “Goddamn.”

You whimper again, hips grinding against his face with a desperation like you haven’t been touched in years, and he wonders if maybe that’s true. That just makes him want to try even harder to make this fucking amazing for you.

He tugs your panties down your legs, lips following his hands until the fabric is removed and you’re left entirely bare beneath him, looking like the prettiest dessert he’s ever seen.

So he leans in, because he’s never been able to resist something sweet, and swipes his tongue over the length of your cunt.

He groans again, the vibrations making something deep in your belly flutter. You taste so sweet that it nearly aches, and he just buries his face deeper between your legs, eating you out sloppily, spit and drool drenching whatever inches of your skin weren’t already soaked with your own arousal.

He can feel the desperation inside him growing.

His tongue lightly brushes your swollen clit, and that small amount of contact is enough to make your hips jump in his hands. He grins, wrapping his lips around you and sucking lightly, tongue still flicking gently. As he does, his fingers come up and spread your lower lips before his long, dexterous middle finger pushes inside your body, curling against your spongy walls.

You let out a soft cry; he just wants you to make those noises again and again. So he starts rubbing your clit with his tongue with fervor as he adds another finger, diving deep inside, earning another moan or whine with every thrust of his hand. His fingers curl again, hitting that spot that makes your back arch so beautifully.

It’s not long before he’s practically drenched to the wrist in your slick.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his tongue still lapping at your clit, “you’re so wet. You ever had someone do this for you, huh? Ever been touched like this?”

You shake your head rapidly from side to side, and he can’t fight the satisfied smile that curves his lips when he sucks your clit into his mouth. The idea that he’s the first one to touch you like this, the first one to bring you this pleasure, especially during your heat, sends a possessive spike through his chest.

He can feel you getting closer with every stroke of his fingers, with every brush of his tongue. You’re tightening around him like a vice, and so he whispers sweet encouragements between your thighs, “Come on, pretty girl… Let go for me… 

You’re fighting it; you don’t want this to end.

You’re whimpering, eyes rolling back, and he just smiles up at you, his free hand gently squeezing your thigh, trying to encourage you to relax. “Come on,” he says again, fingers stroking your g-spot to bring you over the edge, and he watches the muscles in your thighs finally relax before you’re coming, hard, in his mouth.

He moans loudly, licking you through it, his hips grinding against the cushions once more, because fuck, he can’t take it anymore, can’t wait to be inside you.

Once you’ve gone boneless beneath him, chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath, he leans up on his knees, pulling off his own shirt and revealing his muscular torso, looking so delicious you want to lean in and lick him clean.

Then he unbuckles his belt, pushing his pants down his strong thighs, revealing the straining bulge in his tight boxer briefs.

And then you watch as he pushes those down, too, revealing his pretty pink cock to your virgin eyes, and you’re practically drooling at the sight.

He puts his hands under your thighs, hauling your legs up and over his shoulders until he’s got you bent nearly in half underneath him. You whimper at the angle he’s got you at, and he takes his weeping dick in his hand and lightly slaps your clit with the glistening head, once, twice. Your body jolts with every smack, and he smiles down at you before aligning himself with your slick entrance. He pushes his hips forward, slowly sliding inside your drenched pussy. Your mouth drops open at the insane stretch of him, of how fucking massive he feels, like he’s stuffing you full as he takes his time splitting you open.

Once he’s fully seated inside you, he pauses for a moment, both of you breathing heavily.

“You alright?” he asks, his voice only slightly strained with pleasure. You feel so warm and tight around him, your walls fluttering with every breath, and he’s not sure how long he can last with how fucking good you feel.

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, swollen lips pouted out with every huff of breath. “Please,” you whine quietly, hips shifting under his, “need you.”

And so he starts to move, dragging his aching cock nearly all the way out of you before slowly pushing back in, and your eyes roll back into your head at how full you feel. You’re pretty sure you can feel him all the way up into your mouth at this point, with how far he seems to be buried inside you, and then he pulls out back before repeating the motion, over and over again, fucking you slow and affectionately into the cushions.

You hope every heat is like this.

Your lips are parted, and you’re drooling at how perfect this feels, saliva dripping out of the corner of your mouth, and he leans in, crushing your own thighs against your chest. His tongue runs along the corner of your mouth, licking up your own drool, and then he pushes his tongue back into your mouth, feeding you back your own saliva mixed with his.

It’s filthy, it’s delicious, it’s divine.

His tongue swirls with yours, and you’re hardly even kissing at this point, it’s just the two of you tasting each other. 

And as you taste, as he continues to fuck you gently, you feel the desperate stretch of his knot, the swelling base of his cock.

On instinct, you nearly go feral for it.

“Please,” you whimper into his mouth, and when he pulls away a little to ask what you want, you just reach down and grab his hips, holding him close as he continues to gently rock into you. “Please please please…”

Your nails dig into his slim, muscular hips, and he grunts at the slight pain, at the tiny crescent marks you leave on him. He growls in your ear, leaning down to nip at your neck, right above your pretty new collar. “Yeah? You want my knot, huh, pretty girl? Want me to give you a puppy?”

You whimper again, louder this time, higher in your register, because all you can do is shudder under the weight of your instincts to take his knot, to take his puppies. You nod so desperately that your hair flutters around your face, getting stuck in the wet spit at the corners of your mouth. His eyes flash and he leans in again, his lips finding the source of your sugary sweet scent. Then he parts his lips and sinks his canines into your scent glands, pupils blown wide, running purely on instinct as he bites. You cry out, and you’re not even sure if it’s in pleasure or pain or some delicious combination of the two. And your heart thumps with vigor at how much affection you’re nearly drowning in as he mates with you.

And as he bites, he cums, filling you with his seed, burying so deep that he empties himself right against your cervix. And he sinks his knot all the way into you, stretching you all the way open, plugging your quivering pussy until he’s sure his seed will take.

And while you both come down from the high, he kisses along your cheeks and nose and forehead and jaw, making sure you know you’re worthy of being adored. That you are worthy of being saved.

Of being loved.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next: the obedient puppy

[bitchface24-7]

THE GORGEOUS PROFESSOR TALIS

synopsis: You didn't think Professor Viktor was the only heartthrob at Piltover Academy, did you? Meet his charismatic, undeniably gorgeous partner, Professor Talis. But please, call him Jayce.

warnings: again age gap (Jayce’s gotta be anywhere in his 30s-40s to be a professor, reader is in their 20s (early to late I don’t really care) ), power imbalance, switch!jayce, this isn’t gonna be a full on story, just bullet points I come up with, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/f or m/m (implied future m/m/f or m/m/m)

Professor Talis doesn’t have his own class at the Academy, instead he and Professor Viktor alternate in “The Science Behind Magic: HXT101.” The two professors are trying to incorporate a lab aspect to the class; so it's not just theory.

There have been many times Professor Talis (please call me Jayce) has taken over from Viktor due to unforeseen circumstances, such as Viktor having a flare-up in pain and being unable to lecture for three hours straight.

Professor Jayce and Professor Viktor have many similarities. They're passionate, intelligent, and quite funny. But it's their differences that set them apart.

Professor Viktor’s voice is smooth, sultry, and his accent makes everything sound sexy. He's got the perfect voice to do ASMR to make people fall asleep.

Professor Jayce is much more hyper. He talks a bit louder and a bit faster than his partner. But his enthusiasm and bright smile make it endearing to witness.

He's also much broader and taller than Professor Viktor. His shoulders are wide, his waist is narrow, and his thighs are begging to be bitten into.

He's got messy hair, a glorious beard, and a microscopic smattering of grey at his temples. He's got a strong jaw, big eyes, pouty lips, a tantalizing neck, and sinfully beautiful body. He too has a brace, except it's on his opposite leg. And his leg seems to be stronger than his partners.

He's also got incredibly sharp canines. You can't help but squish your thighs together envisioning how they'd feel against your neck, your chest, your thighs.

Professor Jayce seems to enjoy receiving praise just as much as giving it to his students. You'll never forget the time you complemented his teaching style and he got all flushed. Shyly looking down as a sweet smile graced those plump lips.

You wanted to devour that man right then and there.

One day, you almost did.

Professor Talis had just casually walked into the classroom, wearing an all-black outfit with red detailing. His sleeves were rolled up, his hair artfully messy, and his slacks obscenely tight.

You felt like leaping across the desk like a lioness to feast on the meal right before your very eyes.

Professor Jayce seemed to be oblivious to the stares he received. You thought that until he stopped right in front of you; ceasing his walk around the classroom, and his bulge was damn near eye level with you.

It was big. Massive really, and quite girthy from what you could make out in the dark fabric. You coquettishly look up as you suck on your lolly, knowing exactly what you're doing.

Professor Jayce just quirks an eyebrow at you as he taps his finger on your table, making you look down at your sheet of paper, “Have you finished your assignment?”

You can't help but impishly nod, “Yes, Professor Talis.” as you give a long lick on your lollipop before popping it into your mouth.

Professor Talis’ eyes darken as his jaw clenched. He's heard about you from Viktor. The smart, slutty student who has a throat to die for and delectable moans that'll keep your spank bank full until the next time you need them.

Jayce just smirks at you and tells you to stay behind after class, there's something he needs to discuss with you.

You were curious.

You weren't expecting to be folded like a pretzel as your gorgeous professor pounded away into you like it was his last day on earth.

Your body is delectably sore, you're stuffed to the brim in cum, and you have bruises all over your body. Hickies surround your neck and chest, hand shaped bruises are on your hips and thighs. You even have some bite marks. You had a feeling his canines would feel amazing. Called it!

You also called it that Professor Talis enjoys praise and being told what to do. Telling him how good his cock feels and that he's doing amazing really amped him up.

You can't help but wonder how demolished you'll be once both Professor Viktor and Jayce get their hands on you.

(You’ll die very happy and very satisfied)

[heehoonies]

✰ masterlist ✰

hyung line + jungwon

requests & most to least masterlist

hard hours tag

lee heeseung

messy (feat. jake)

slut you out (feat. jake)

park jongseong

lemonade (feat. jake and sunghoon)

dreaming 'bout you

sim jaeyun

messy (feat. heeseung)

under the table

lemonade (feat. jay and sunghoon)

slut you out (feat. heeseung)

park sunghoon

lemonade (feat. jay and jake)

insatiable

yang jungwon

(nothing yet)

[drunkenbagel]

day two: size kink - könig

kinktober masterlist

Pairing: König (CoD) x f!reader Content/warnings: +18 CONTENTS MINORS DNI! size kink, praising, dirty talking, v fingering, p in v, use of pet names, creampie

König knew he was big. Most of the times he even tried to make himself smaller around other people, but there was just something about knowing he could easily manhandle your much smaller sized self.

Something about how you blushed when he towered over you, trying his best not to cum on the spot when you tried to take him in your throat, eyes prickling with tears at both the length and girth of his dick in your mouth.

“It's not going to fit” you said with wide eyes the first time you saw him in his full naked glory.

“You can take it, Liebe” he said as he got a big finger inside of your already soaking cunt. “My good girl can take me over and over, we just have to work you up a little.”

You whined at his words, a gasp falling from your lips as he got another finger inside you, working in and out of you, getting used to the size. When he added a third finger and curved them to brush the sensitive spot, it wasn't long until your legs trembled and heat started pooling on your lower belly.

“That's it, Liebe, cum for me so I can fuck you nice and deep” he said with a grumble as he kissed your neck.

It didn't take much longer until you snapped and gripped at his biceps while gasping his name as you came in his fingers. He brought them up to his lips and not breaking eye contact, he licked them clean.

“Can't waste anything, can we?” he said in a low voice as you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment and need.

He positioned himself between your legs, getting his fat tip into your soaked folds, pushing inwards. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and gripped the sheets, your body tensing up.

“Relax for me, liebling” he said hovering over you, leaving soft kisses on your jaw and your neck.

You could feel him pushing farther, feeling like your insides were on fire at the feeling of his big dick making its way, molding you.

“Look at you, taking me so well” he gasped, barely containing himself when he saw his dick disappearing inside of you. “Your pretty little pussy is swallowing me. Doing so good for me.”

You whimpered at the praise. You would be lying if you said it didn't hurt, but it was a burning sensation that felt just too good.

Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, you felt his fat tip pushing against your cervix, hips clashing with another. König stilled, breathing heavily and trying not to cum at the sight of your lower belly, swollen with the outline of his dick inside of you. He moved back, taking almost all of his length out before clashing your hips together again, making you cry out in pleasure, burning sensation growing in you.

“Fuck, you're taking me so well, liebling, you feel so good. God, I could fuck this pretty little pussy of yours all day” he gasped at every thrust inside of you, each faster than the one before. It was mind numbing, the feeling of his dick making way in and out of you, molding you to his will and ruining you for any other. “Meine schöne Liebe”

You couldn't think straight. The praise, the overwhelming feeling of his cock fucking you relentlessly, the feeling of his soft lips and wet tongue on your sensitive spots in your neck, it was all too much.

You felt the coiling sensation growing back on your belly as he stroked your clit.

“König, please- I need to- I-” you stammered, trying to finish a coherent sentence, but your fucked out brain couldn't make any.

“I know, liebling, me too” he said, gasps and moans mixing each other in your mouths. “Cum with me, darling. Let me feel you come around me”

You squeezed your eyes shut, mouth open agape as you loudly moaned, his name escaping your lips ever so lovely. He didn't last much longer as he felt you tighten around him, pussy gripping his dick until he came with a long, low grunt, filling you up to the brim until cum leaked out of you.

He couldn't help but get hard again at the sight of you, cock drunk and fucked silly, string of cum and juices connecting his tip with your leaking cunt. You yelped when he thrust his full length inside again, his name coming out between gasps and breathy moans. He couldn't stop looking at how his dick made your belly swollen, mushy walls of your cunt squeezing him.

”I'm just getting started with you, liebling.”

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Would you consider a request for teenage Suguru and Reader having meet-cutes when he attends missions? She's an amateur photographer who can see Curses, and is desperately trying to catch one on camera. He keeps finding her in dangerous places, but she's really persistent with it, even when he's telling her off 💀😶‍🌫️

Snapshots and Sorcery

A/N: Hi anon! Sorry this took so long. Thank you for such a cute and unique idea! I had fun writing this fic. Also I know that in JJK, Nanami specifically says cursed spirits don't show up in photos but let's ignore that and have this be minorly au-ish. Pairing: Teen! Suguru x Fem!Reader Warnings: None! Cute and fluffy. Word Count: 3.8k

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The first time Suguru laid eyes on you, it was at a run-down museum that had shuttered closed years ago. The museum was already doing poorly long before it closed, unable to bring in enough revenue, until the bank had seized its assets, and the poor curator had hung himself from the neck of the apatosaurus model in the dinosaur wing.

It was rumored the apatosaurus was haunted, roaring and coming to life at night, thrashing around, and reducing the other exhibits to pieces. Sometimes, the occasional high school student would drop by and peek in through the windows on a dare, then hearing the eerie noises coming from inside the building, make a break for it. The ones that stayed too long were never seen again. 

This is why Geto is here now, creeping stealthily through the museum, the eerie look of the shattered exhibits casting distorted shadows across the length of the corridors as he surveyed for the cause. Although he had been told the curse would most likely be haunting the dinosaur wing, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of another presence nearby, emanating a tinge of cursed energy, but not enough for him to believe it could cause him harm. Just as he’d entered the museum, he’d seen a quick flash of silver making a dash towards the back of the atrium towards the birds exhibit. 

The displays looked uncanny, the taxidermied birds all out of place inside the glass displays, the ones that remained intact staring at him with unseeing, glassy eyes. It was unsettling, then as he rounded a corner, he saw another flash and breaks into a run. The sound of frantic footsteps fills his ears. Worried about losing his quarry, he quickly summons one of his curses, the manta ray one, and lets it loose, the creature quickly flying down the corridor. A shriek followed by muffled shouting fills the narrow space as Geto hurries to catch up.

Whatever it was got caught under the curse, wriggling like a mouse beneath a carpet. Cautiously, Geto calls off the curse and is surprised to see a human underneath. Defiantly, you lift your face to him, ready to fight to the death. For a second, your appearance throws Geto off—a beautiful face, followed by a lovely, feminine body. 

“You’re not a curse.” 

You scoff, fixing sharp eyes on him. “Well aren’t you a genius?” you ask sourly, sizing him up. Despite your irritation, you can’t help but notice the appeal of your assailant, the tall, broad youth with his hair up in a bun. Amethyst eyes focus on you and he seems temporarily at a loss of what to do next. 

“What are you doing here?” Geto demands, acutely aware of how this could throw off his mission. No one had mentioned a civilian being present. You scowl and cross your arms over your chest, and that’s when he notices a strap dangling from your arm, and hanging from it, the source of the flashes of silver he’d been seeing; a fancy-looking point-and-shoot camera. 

“None of your business,” you say stubbornly and Geto scoffs. 

“It is my business if you’re going to cause trouble for me. What’re you carrying that around for anyway?” He gestures to the camera.

“Creepy, allegedly-haunted museum. Thought it would make for a good art study.” Your words were too crafted and came too easily, an evasive quality to them.

“Oh, right, and I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Geto carefully studies you. Just enough cursed energy, but not enough to be a sorcerer. 

“Well, why are you here?” You shoot his question back to him. “And what kinda uniform is that? I’ve never seen a student wearing that uniform around here before.”

Geto is about to reply, but he’s cut off as he senses a rapid movement of energy coming from the opposite side of the building. Whatever the curse was, it appeared to have scented him, and he had no time to waste chit-chatting.

“Look, I have something to take care of,” he says, urgency creeping into his voice. “If you know what’s good for you, please get out of the museum.”

“Why? It’s a free country. I can-” You stop as an unnatural, hair-raising shriek is heard, echoing from the opposite end of the bird exhibit. You shoot a look at Geto and both of you go tearing off in the opposite direction. 

“I’m Geto Suguru,” he says as you both run, hearing heavy footsteps chasing after them. You manage to give him your name as both of you hurtle out of the birds wing and turn into the entomology section. The curse, thrown temporarily off track, pauses and goes in another direction.

“Look,” Geto says in a whisper, “You need to get out of here. It’s dangerous. I-”

“Then why are you staying? Isn’t it dangerous for you too?” Geto looks at you curiously and something in his brain clicks. 

“You can see them, can’t you?” He asks, and for a moment, you’re startled, looking at him with wide eyes. 

“Yes,” you admit after a beat. “Oh, God! Finally! Someone who can see them too!”

“What’s with the camera?”

“No one believes me when I tell them there are…things. So I was trying to catch one on film.”

Geto looks disbelievingly at you, then shakes his head. “Trust me, it’s not worth your life trying to get a picture of a curse. Now please get out of here so that I can exorcise it.”

“Exorcise? What are you, some sort of priest?”

“A sorcerer,” he admits.

“But this might be my only chance, I-”

“Trust me, it won’t be. There are curses everywhere. But this one is particularly powerful and nasty. Better luck with something less vicious.”

“But I-” You gasp as the curse suddenly makes an appearance, crashing through another entrance at the far end of the exhibit. It was truly grotesque, like a decaying dinosaur carcass come to life, with no skin on its body, eyes red and wild. 

Geto immediately springs into action, calling forth another curse from his arsenal. You can’t tear your eyes away from the scene, your heart hammering in your chest as the handsome youth you had known for all of five minutes goes charging into the fray. The most strange and curious creatures came forth as he summoned them, a small agile human compared to the monstrous dinosaur he was fighting. You attempted to take a picture but with all the movement, each shot was blurred.

You’re praying nothing happens to Geto, then finally, 2 of his curses distract the dinosaur long enough for him to begin the exorcism. With a roar that shook the whole museum, Geto begins to suck the curse into his palm. You watch in wide-eyed fascination, the camera forgotten in your hands as the behemoth swirls into black mist, then becomes encapsulated into a black sphere contained neatly in Geto’s palm. Silence falls through the room, and with a shaky breath, you approach Geto. 

“That was pretty neat,” you say, trying not to tremble. Geto looks at you, then at the orb sitting in his palm like a huge black pearl. 

“Look,” he says sympathetically. “I can understand why you want to photograph a curse. But I’m also telling you it’s dangerous and you could get hurt. You could even die. Haven’t the reports of the missing high school students scared you enough to not want to see one ever?”

You shake your head no. “That’s not going to stop me. I need to prove I’m not crazy. Everyone thinks I’m a freak.”

“I know you’re not crazy. Isn’t that enough?” When you remain silent, he huffs in frustration. “Look, I know it sounds bleak, but trust me. It’s better to live knowing there’s someone who believes you, than dying trying to prove to everyone else that doesn’t.”  

He pats your shoulder, a friendly gesture no doubt, but it sends a current of heat through your body, making you blush. You hoped the lack of lighting in the museum would hide your reaction to him.

The both of you walk together towards the entrance in silence, your heart hammering as you get outside and you see his face in the light. A handsome face, clearly on the brink of manhood, looks down at you with a stern expression.

“Well. Take care of yourself. And no more chasing curses. I hope we don’t meet again. At least, not under such grim circumstances.”

Before you could respond, he was walking away, vanishing into the night.

The days that follow are spent combing through the camera, but all photos of the curse were a waste, too blurry to be salvaged. However, there were several of Geto, and you can’t stop from poring over his face, remembering the way he’d moved and quickly contained the curse, effectively saving your life in the process. You hated to admit it, but you were smitten with him.

He had called himself a sorcerer. You wished you had asked for his phone number before he’d vanished. Partly because you wanted to ask him more questions, but also because you’d never had someone in your life who you could talk to about curses, as he’d called them. He knew you weren’t crazy. That thought gave you so much hope, that there was someone who believed you, who saw the terrible things you saw.

It had taken months for you to work out the curse’s location in the museum. You wondered if you managed to find another one…would he be there?

With that, you start an internet search, looking up haunted locale and areas reporting missing people within Tokyo. 

»•» 📷 «•« “Not you again!”

Geto lets out an exasperated sigh as he sees you lingering near the entrance of an old, ruined temple, tucked away in an isolated, mountainous region outside of the city. 

You grin, trying not to let on how eager you are to see him, almost skipping over to him as he rolls his eyes. Admittedly, it had been a chance to go to this location, but you couldn’t be more pleased that your guess was correct. 

“You have a death wish, don’t you?” 

“So do you if you work as a sorcerer,” you bite back, now next to him. Your trusted camera hangs from your arm and he groans at the sight.

“You still haven’t given up the idea of catching one of these things on camera?” he asks, irritated.

“Nope! And I figured, with a sorcerer by my side, I might actually capture a picture, and leave the place alive.”

Geto rolls his eyes at your persistence. “You are not following me in there.” 

“Oh please. Like that’ll stop me.”

“This curse is too dangerous.���

“Do you just say that for all the curses you handle?” you ask in a bored tone. 

“No. You just happen to be at places where the really dangerous ones nest. Are you like a magnet or something? Just…pulled in even against better judgment?”

“Then what does that make you?”

The defiant way you say it makes him snort. “I’m not here out of morbid fascination. I’m here because this is my job.”

He says the words with a touch of finality and turns to walk into the temple, then yells out in dismay as you run past him. He catches up to you quickly, grabbing hold of your wrist and making your heart pound in your chest which had nothing to do with the exertion from running.

“Don’t make me drag you out of here. I’ll place one of my curses near the entrance to watch you so that you can’t get in.”

When you continue to pout he sighs. “You really want a picture huh?”

You nod enthusiastically. “I really do.”

And I want to see you again. 

The words form in your mind, unbidden. “Isn’t there any way you can tell me if a curse is dangerous or not? All I want is the one picture.”

“And you’d stop putting yourself in danger?”

“Yes! Promise!”

Geto tsks impatiently, wanting to finish his mission as quickly as possible, then relents as you continue looking at him like a puppy.

“Fine,” he says indignantly pulling his mobile phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

You blink. “You’re asking for my number?” You try not to sound breathless.

“Yes.” There’s a bite of impatience in his voice. “C’mon, hurry up I haven’t got all day.”

You quickly recite your number, and he saves it, sending you a text to confirm. Your face is a little too pink when you get his text, but you look at him neutrally as he heads inside.

“Please don’t follow me,” he says and there is a tinge of concern in his voice.

“Scout’s honor,” you say, striking the gesture with your fingers, and he throws you a glance over his shoulder that could’ve suggested amusement before being swallowed by the temple entrance. 

Almost a month passes by before you see him again.

Geto was always busy and away on some mission or another. The last few curses had all been classified as a grade 2 or higher, so you hadn’t had an opportunity to take a picture just yet.

However, of late, he’d been texting you after getting back to his dorm room from missions, asking about your day and how you were doing. Used to being the weird girl, isolated, misunderstood, because you could see cursed spirits, you had never experienced this kind of amity before. You’d text him late into the night, waiting up for him sometimes until he texted first.

One night, you were restless. It had been weeks since you last saw him, and when he texted you, confirming he was back in the city, you boldly asked if he wanted to go into the shopping district with you. You didn’t need anything, but there was a weird emptiness inside you, a need to see him again, to convince yourself he was real, this person who finally understood the frustration you’d experienced your whole life. He was sympathetic to you, telling you that this was a classic age-old problem between sorcerers and regular humans. 

“We’re kind of like the trash cans of society,” he says jokingly, sipping his milk tea as the both of you wandered through the streets, waiting at the signal light to cross. “We get rid of all the garbage that festers from normal humans, yet people always turn up their noses at us.”

You listen to him in fascination, quietly sipping your own tea. “I wish I could be a student at your high school,” you murmur. Geto’s expression changes slightly, as though he’s weighing what he should say next. The bright lights of the shopping district float around you as wait for his next words. 

“I understand why you’d feel that way. But trust me you don’t.”

“Trust me I do. At least no one will think I’m the weird girl. No one will doubt me if I say I see something, because you can see it too.”

“Yes, but it’s also mission after mission. Death. Risking your life. You saw what happened at the museum.”

“But your life is so cool! You said you can control the curses you absorb right?” You falter at the look on his face, displeasure falling over it like a veil.

“Do you know how I absorb those curses?” he asks quietly, all traces of geniality disappearing from his voice. The unexpected harshness catches you off guard. Swallowing, you venture a guess.

“You put them into those spheres right?”

“That’s to contain them. Do you know what happens after that?” Geto looks like his milk tea was suddenly replaced by sludge. You meekly shake your head no, his demeanor starting to frighten you a little bit. “I swallow them. I literally eat them. Do you know what it’s like, eating a cursed spirit?” He pushes on, not bothered to hear your response. 

“It tastes like a rag that’s been used to wipe up shit and vomit. And I do this over and over again because it’s what’s expected of me. I’ve never been allowed to make a choice that doesn’t surround jujutsu. I can’t leave, because what would happen to humanity, the non-jujutsu humans?” All the bitter feelings he’s been bottling up come spilling out. He couldn’t believe that you wanted his life, especially not after seeing the kinds of situations he’s put into regularly.

No one understood him, not even at school, because curse absorption was such a rare ability. Even if he tried to put it into words, he knew how everyone would react; like it was his duty to continue to do it even if he hated it, treated like some sort of heroic martyr for protecting the human race. For once, he’d love to be you, able to see cursed spirits, but having zero obligation to do anything about it. The appeal of the milk tea dissipates, and he throws it into a trash can, disgust lining his face as his feelings about sorcery start bubbling up.

“I can never think of having a normal life. Going into something other than sorcery, or to just have a selfish moment where if I don’t want to take on a cursed spirit, I can say no and walk away.” He starts walking faster and you’re almost sprinting to keep up with him.

“Geto!”

“You don’t understand how lucky you are! I’d pick being the class weirdo any day over having to absorb a cursed spirit.”

You hurry behind him, trailing in his wake, worrying you have ruined everything. “Geto please- I didn’t mean-”

“I’d love to be normal! To go on a date, maybe hold hands, maybe even kiss a girl if I get lucky! Where’s the time for that? If I’m absorbing cursed spirits all the time? I know what it tastes like! Who would want to be with me? Who would want to kiss me?” 

You’ve both walked a reasonable distance from the main shops onto a waterfront shopping strip. It was quieter here, a pleasant breeze flowing through the night air as Geto heatedly walked towards the railing, you scurrying behind him. You manage to catch hold of his hand and to your relief, he doesn’t pull away.

“Geto.” Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” you mumble, wishing he’d turn around and look at you. He peers over the railing at the water, watching little lily pads float on the surface.

The silence between you both is deafening. Treading carefully, you try to talk to him again, keeping your voice gentle. “Geto, before I met you, do you know what my life was like? With everyone thinking I was a liar? Or that I was making up things to get attention?” 

When he doesn’t say anything, you continue. 

“I had no one. Everything changed when I met you. I felt like…someone finally gets it. And it’s not just me who can see those awful things. They really exist, and there are lots of people who can see them. It made me feel…a little less alone.” 

He turns to look at you, his expression doubtful and your heart skips a beat as you realize you're still holding his hand, the tension between you both blossoming like springtime wildflowers. 

“You said you wanted…to hold hands. To kiss someone.” You draw closer. “What would you do…If I said…I want to do those things with you?”

His eyes widen as you get closer but he doesn’t push away. “I’d ask you if you were sure because you might be making a mistake.”

You shake your head. “I’m positive I’m not making a mistake.”

His hand, the one you’re holding onto tightens around your smaller one and pulls you against him. You inhale, his skin smelling wonderful and his chest so big and broad and warm. 

“Geto…” Your voice is lost amidst the tangle of nerves and rush of excitement, both hearts hammering in their chests. Shy inexperience made both of you blush before you raised your head, and Geto’s tips downwards, and your lips met gently, a subtle brush against the other before breaking away. You giggle awkwardly, unable to stop and Geto also grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

“Um…that was nice,” he murmurs, not looking at you and chuckling, unsure what to say. 

“Was that a good first kiss?” 

“Oh!” Geto now laughs too but still doesn’t pull away, instead, maintains proximity with you, and brushes some loose hair away from your face. “Uh, yeah. It was…like how I imagined it.”

Silence falls between you both, not an uncomfortable one, but the kind where both kissers are considering if they should change topics or kiss again to make sure the first one wasn’t imagined. 

Geto’s eyes suddenly widen as he sees something floating near your head. He pulls you close to him, then huffs as he sees a harmless flyhead, then with a jolt of realization, he taps your shoulder.

“Flyhead curse! It’s harmless! Take your picture now!”

“What?” you look over your shoulder and see the creepy-looking gremlin of a creature then gasp. “I don’t have my camera!”

“Phone! Quick!” Without hesitating, Geto reaches out and grabs the flyhead which struggles and buzzes angrily but is too weak to try escaping. It squirms and tries to sink its little teeth into Geto’s fist and he shakes it angrily. 

“Hurry up!”

With hands trembling in excitement, you pull out your phone and quickly snap a crystal-clear picture the the ugly critter. It makes a low grumbling noise and Geto throws it away into the air. It mutters angrily at him before zooming away.

“Shouldn’t you have exorcized that?” you ask, looking in awe at the photo on your phone. 

“Nah. It’s pretty harmless. Chances are it’ll get squished by a lower-rank sorcerer by daybreak.”

Your cheeks are red with happiness, triumph glittering in your eyes. “I can’t believe it, I actually got a picture of it…” You rake a hand through your hair.

Geto silently watches your outburst of enthusiasm, a smile tugging his lips. “So what’s more exciting - you finally catching a curse on camera, or the fact that you just had your first kiss and it was with me?” His voice is soft and teasing and you roll your eyes but fail to control the dusting of pink in your face.

“I think I need to experience it again before I can decide.”

“Is that right?” Suguru smirks before pulling you closer to him. “Let’s see if we can help you make a decision.”

You grin widely before your lips touch again, and you knew it had never been a question from the start. 

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Masterslist

Twitter AU Masterslist

˖ ࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡་ Oneshots!

‘Tis The Damn Season — HJP x wolfstar!daughter.

I Can See You — HJP x wolfstar!daughter.

Christmas Eve wake up call — HJP x wolfstar!daughter.

You Are In Love — HJP x fem!reader.

Fever Warm — HJP x wolfstar!daughter.

Drunken Confession — HJP x fem!reader.

˖ ࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡་ Drabbles!

The one where wolfstar!daughter makes a tough decision.

The one where wolfstar!daughter dies during the war.

The one where Harry finds out reader died.

The one where Harry comforts wolfstar!daughter about wearing a bikini at the pool.

Th one where Harry and wolfstar!daughter break up.

The one after they break up (wolfstar!daughter’s POV)

The one where wolfstar!daughter got hurt during the war.

The one where Hufflepuff!sunshine!reader patches Harry’s sweater (and explains her friendship with the Giant Squid)

The one where wolfstar!daughter gets jealous.

The one where shy!reader bumps into Harry.

The one where Regulus teaches Wolfstar!daughter to ballroom dance.

The one where Harry talks down ravenclaw!reader before meeting his family.

The one where Ravenclaw!reader meets his family.

The one where fame AU! wolfstar!daughter wins her first Grammy.

The one where reader and Harry argue over her going horcrux hunting.

The one where wolfstar!daughter realizes she wants to be a medic (or nurse.)

The one where wolfstar!daughter goes to Lily for love advice.

The one where Harry injures himself playing quidditch.

The one where Sirius and wolfstar!daughter play the piano togeher.

The one where Harry and wolfstar!daughter share a photo of Neville’s boggart.

The one where wolfstar!daughter comes out as a lesbian to Remus and Sirius.

The one where Harry is a professional quidditch player and wolfstar!daughter is his biggest fan.

The one where Harry comforts wolfstar!daughter after she gets in a fight with Draco Malfoy.

The one where wolfstar!daughter is an intentional flirt.

The one where Harry is an unintentional flirt.

The one where Harry and wolfstar!daughter get a moment alone in their treehouse post!battle of Hogwarts.

The one where Lily gives Harry the potter family heirloom ring to propose to wolfstar!daughter.

The one where wolfstar!daughter reflects on the threat of war.

The one where Sirius and wolfstar!daughter are reunited after Sirius gets out of Azkaban

The one where harry and wolfstar!daughter go to the Yule ball together.

The one where Harry takes care of wolfstar!daughter while she’s sick.

The one where James and Sirius embarrass Harry and wolfstar!daughter

The one where wolfstar!daughter hums to Harry.

The one after Harry and wolfstar!daughter have their first time.

The one where fame AU! Harry wins his first Oscar.

The one where Harry gets jealous.

The one where Harry saves wolfstar!daughter during the twizard tournament.

The one where reader is pregnant.

The one where Harry and wolfstar!daughter cuddle.

˖ ࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡་ Headcanons!

Harry and wolfstar!daughter in fame AU.

Fame!au Harry and wolfstar!daughter after going public.

Harry and sunshine!hufflepuff!reader

Harry and wolfstar!daughter’s first meeting.

Harry as a father.

Harry as a father pt 2.

Wolfstar!daughter telling Harry she’s pregnant.

Flirt!harry.

Flirt!harry pt 2.

Harry taking care of you during your monthly.

Things I’ve imagined about wolfstar!daughter part one.

Things I’ve imagined about wolfstar!daughter part two.

Wolfstar!daughter’s birthday.

Remus and Wolfstar!daughter’s daddy-daughter dates.

Sirius and wolfstar!daughter’s daddy daughter dates.

Regulus and wolfstar!daughter.

Regulus and wolfstar!daughter pt. 2.