#but this doesn’t stop me from thinking of how passionate he is&&how eager he gets to please you oh my god .. oh my god

[itoshi-s]

sano manjiro….. what a MAN.. what a hunk my god i’m literally shaking… i hc that with all the pain he had to process and protecting he devoted himself to he never got around to dating that much, kind of didn’t have the appetite for it until he met you :( and now he’s starved and parched and oh so willing to give you everything, but you have to teach him exactly how :( but don’t worry, he is a very, very fast learner sobbing he will have your whole body trembling in no time zari i am DRIPPING and BEGGING for just a crumb of this man

!!!!!! he used to think there was something wrong with him (.. there certainly was LOL anyways 😭) cause manjiro never, ever had eyes for anyone. he’d always smile contently when watching michi and hina and to be fair, he truly enjoyed thirdwheeling draken and emma, just to see the two so head over heels for each other — but he did not have a clue on how that fuzzy, fluttering spark feels, and after some time, he actually got used to the thought that, well.. maybe he might not ever find out at all, you know??): everything’s changed now and there’s nothing to be afraid of — he doesn’t have to be scared of what he’s capable of anymore — but it doesn’t come any easier. and it feels off, and perhaps mikey feels a little bitter about losing his golden years for first loves and crushes, but he doesn’t really.. do anything about it anymore. he’s heard about love finding you when you least expect it, but never put much thought to it until you stumble in his way, all bright eyed and eager, and not at all discouraged by his lack of romantic experience. in fact, he’s SO charming and captivating, you have trouble believing that you’re his very first serious love </3

but fret not!!! give him a piece of your heart, and manjiro already hands you the entirety of his own, no hesitation. he’s not sure how to love you right just yet, and it is a little overwhelming at times still, but if he’s one thing, it’s determined — and you best believe he’s no different when it comes to you <3

[alixezae]

content includes: darkish content, unprotected sex, p in v penetration, overstimulation, breeding kink, pet names such as baby, pretty girl, good girl, sweetheart, choking but the sexy way, dirty dirty talk, fucked dumb!reader, cervix fucking, squirting, back scratching, slight dumbification, clit rubbing, soft sex, stomach bulge, fluff, angst, etc..

parings: gojo x reader, nanami x reader, geto x reader, sukuna x reader, choso x reader, kenjaku x reader, mahito x reader, yuki x reader, shoko x reader, toji x reader, shiu x reader, naruto x reader, sasuke x reader, reigen x reader, etc..

GOJO SATORU

“WELL, WE SHOULD PROBABLY FUCK, RIGHT?”

@kingkonoha

♡ — SUMMARY; you & gojo are both sealed away in the prison realm. with nothing else to do, you might as well start fucking, right?

────HEAVEN IN YOUR CHEST

@kizoken

♡ — SUMMARY; no summary just whiney gojo

“notice me senpai!”

@itachiiwrites

♡ — SUMMARY; Since Gojo canonly is into older women as well, I can't help but think of Senpai!Reader who's extremely flirty.

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY PANTIES?”

@coffee-and-geto

♡ — SUMMARY; in a lazy, hot summer afternoon, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to do the laundry. but why doesn’t he respond when you’re asking where’s your panties?

“What? You’re married? And you’re a dad?”

@kingkonoha

♡ — SUMMARY; Yuji finds out that 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 has a family.

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃, 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

@fairy-angel222

♡ — SUMMARY; a day with your favorite person on earth leads you to a fancy hotel for one weekend.. where you finally give yourself to your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.

I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい

@arminsumi

♡ — SUMMARY; you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.

LET ME MARRY YOU

@arminsumi

♡ — SUMMARY; The risk of dating you his too much for him to handle, so he breaks it off, only for him to come back to your doorstep years later and ask: "Let me marry you."

𐙚 I’D RATHER BE KISSING YOUR WAIST

@honoredalone

♡ — SUMMARY; gojo satoru is the strongest, but that didn’t leave him without his scars. internal and external. the biggest scar making him shy away, but that didn’t stop you from loving it.

GETO SUGURU

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑!!!

@s0dium

♡ — SUMMARY; Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d find out that your crush, Geto Suguru, was just like you: a murderer. Not only that but you share the same passion; killing criminals and pedophiles!

DOCTOR’S ORDERS, GIVE US SOME PRIVACY ! (FT. GETO)

@sonarspace

♡ — SUMMARY; what is a doctor without a nurse?

Horny Geto Suguru

@s0dium

♡ — SUMMARY; Geto Suguru cannot stop having sick fantasies about you

❝ PUFF , PUFF , FUCK ! ❞

@sugutiva

♡ — SUMMARY; riding suguru while he’s high .

HUSBAND SUGURU! + PREGNANCY ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

@slttygeto

♡ — SUMMARY; Husband Suguru! whom before you even got married, sat you down and mentioned to you how starting a family wasn’t something he was looking forward to. you know of his past, of the trauma he’s been through. he fully expects you to break up with him when he tells you that, knows how much you want to have a baby of your own, but you don’t. instead, you cradle him in your arms and tell him that you love him and appreciate what you have right now, not what you don’t even see in the picture.

love countdown!

@milkbobatyun

♡ — SUMMARY; it was the night before he left for okinawa, little did you know how much everything would change.

☆ R U GONNA STAY THE NIGHT?

@omgeto

♡ — SUMMARY; geto suguru, 'top dog' on campus, is used to ploughing through all the ditzy little freshmen without any concern for their feelings. but now his biggest challenge, is you, and it's not getting you in his bed, its getting you to stay in it.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

(TONGUE) TIED

@starmapz

♡ — SUMMARY; ❝ you can't possibly get home fast enough in the eyes of your husband who's been undressing you with his eyes all night. to his delight, he finds that you're just as eager as he is and feeling a little freaky, which means sukuna gets to pull out your collection of toys and ropes. ❞

Kinktober Day 4 - Brat Taming with Ryomen Sukuna

@getoslamb

♡ — SUMMARY; The air was tight in the luxurious chambers, thick with the underlying current of power and danger that came with being near Sukuna. You knew it all too well, and still, today you chose to push the boundaries. Maybe it was the way his attention had moved onto others, or maybe you just wanted to feel his power focused on you.

TASTING FEAR

@eclipseslayer

♡ — SUMMARY; The King of Curses sends out Uraume to fetch his new concubine to birth his heir, and, unfortunately, it happened to be you.

"Lust and Sin" - trueform!Sukuna

@fayesia

♡ — SUMMARY; Sukuna was a controlling ruler. He took over good to make it evil and was well aware of the mere sorcerors who kneeled before him, or death would await them.

𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖 𝙗𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙨𝙚!

@carebearbussy

♡ — SUMMARY; 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩.

MULTI CHARACTERS ¡! ← click here <3

SILKEN WEB

@chrollogy

♡ — SUMMARY; Hisoka’s ‘generosity’ allows Chrollo to fuck you in front of him after he’s seen the way the latter has looked at you. Though, the redhead cannot help but join in on the fun despite being the cuck—he has his ways, he always does.

THE BEACH ꔛ Reigen A.

@i4sgwr

♡ — SUMMARY; Using your beach trip as an opportunity to confess to your crush??? An unwise decision. alternative synopsis: Reigen confesses to you on the Spirits & Such beach trip.

More coming soon ↓

Creds: @mirru & @anitalenia

[watchmegetobsessed]

BEHIND BARS

A/N: this fic is my coping mechanism with my own shit and im more than eager to read your thoughts, because it would help me knowing im not alone with these thoughts. so this one goes out to all the big girlies who struggle with loving themselves!

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: You get stood up by your Tinder date, but at the same time you run into a man who works at the bar and seems to be into you. Or that's what you think when you read his message he wrote to your receipt, asking you to return to the bar the next day.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You harbor the delusional thoughts of your date getting caught up in something… anything, just a tad more, just so that the heartache comes a few moments later. It stings, probably more than you’d ever admit to anyone, but you can’t help it. 

Sitting on the barstool in the dimly lit bar you glue your eyes onto your pornstar martini, the second you’ve had since arriving an hour and about five ‘Where are you?’ texts to Brannon before. All of them sit delivered but unread in your messages. You reach for the glass and finish the drink in two big gulps, the alcohol bringing an almost numbing sensation to your closed up throat, but it fades rather fast. 

What hurts the most is that this is not a first date. He met you just three days ago on the coffee date you two arranged once you were over just exchanging messages on that awful dating app you always swear to never download again but end up back on it at one point. It’s not like he would have walked in tonight and could have a shock about your looks, that you do in fact have quite some extra weight, your thighs are thick, curving into your ass that might look good on a better day, but only if it’s covered, because every time you look at it the only thing you see is the stubborn cellulite you can never get rid of. He saw that you’re miles away from having a flat stomach, you weren’t blessed to be the kind of big girl who has a slim waist and beautiful round waist. You often stop in front of the mirror to assess how big your arms look if you wear something sleeveless, how your collarbones only show if you put your hands to your hips and force your shoulders forward to bring them out. 

He saw all of these. Yet he suggested meeting again, pulling you into a ridiculous dream that he might be different and you could finally have the burning, passionate love you’ve always dreamed about.

Now it feels more like a nightmare. 

“Another one?” 

The bartender appears in front of you, one hand on the counter, the other one on his hip as he looks at you with a questioning look. You glance up at him, then at the empty glass and decide to just fuck it and get drunk before going home and raging your fridge for whatever comfort food you can find. 

“Sure. Bring a shot as well.”

“Vodka, tequila, rum or…?”

“Vodka sounds fantastic,” you breathe out as you square your shoulders and run a hand through your hair.

The guy nods and then disappears again. While he is making your drink you decide to have a trip to the bathroom. You wave at the bartender to let him know you’ll be back and when he nods you make your way to the back. 

You chose the bar for tonight, it’s a nice place, feels intimate and… hot, maybe that’s the word you used when you were here with your girlfriends a few weeks ago. It was the perfect spot for a girly night, but the vibe of the place definitely doesn’t limit it to a strictly feminine spot. There were plenty of men around even then and one mysterious man sent over a whole round of drinks, he remained unknown but he was probably enamored by one of your friends.

You were convinced Brannon would like this place and you could see the two of you curled up in a booth, finally overstepping the awkwardness of being around someone you met online. 

Once you’ve done your business you stop in front of the massive mirror next to the sink and have a moment to look at yourself in the overhead lights that bring out everything about your body that you usually fight hard not to think about. You hate it how one inconvenience can make you feel so… ashamed. Hopeless. Worthless. 

Truth is, you’re tired. You’ve had enough of these experiences, though it’s only your second time getting stood up, but it goes under the same cases of going completely unnoticed by men in a social setting, ending up instantly in the friendzone no matter what you do, getting the talk of ‘but I see you as a great friend, I hope we can stay friends’ whenever you dare to come clean about your feelings for someone. It sucks the life out of you and you’re not sure if you have any more left to keep trying. Because the chance of ending up alone anyway has been looming over your head for way too long to ignore it and if it ends up being your reality, you’d rather not waste any more time and energy on trying. 

When the tears start stinging your eyes you turn on your heels and head out, not wanting to have a full blown breakdown in the middle of a bar. Stepping out to the hallway you’re just about to march back to your previous spot to chug down your drinks shamelessly, but you weren’t expecting anyone to be right outside the door, so you collide into someone just as your heels hit the carpeted floor outside the restroom. 

It’s not at all the gracious kind of collision, where the man scoops you into his arms and holds you against his chest to stop you from falling. Out of reflex, your hands do find the guy’s chest, but you push yourself away from him fast and panicked, your back hitting the door that just closed behind you and you’d bet a good amount that your expression reeks of shock and the sadness from previously, which is not a gracious combination. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you exhale sharply as your eyes take in the man in front of you. 

Tall, well-built in a black, fitted suit with a black silky shirt underneath the jacket, the first few buttons are left undone, teasing a glimpse of tattoos and a thin necklace with pendants hidden from your vision. His brown hair is trimmed, but not enough to conceal how the strands curl and swirl. Pink lips curl into a smile and you can’t decide the color of his eyes because it’s too dark here, but they appear to be light, even despite how big his pupils are as he is staring back at you. He is holding up his hands in front of him, as if he is readying himself to catch you if you decide to fall anyway. 

“In a hurry?” he asks and his velvety british accent caresses your ears. You blink at him for a couple of moments dumbly before finding your voice to reply.

“No,” is all you say, to which his smile just widens and you catch his eyes dip down, running along your body before they return to your gaze. 

“Be careful then, Angel.”

“Sorry,” you breathe out, finding your balance again as you’re unable to look away from him. 

He is the kind of man that catches every female’s attention upon walking into a room, who could easily just cherry pick who he wants, because women line up in front of him just to earn a glance from him. He looks elegant and lively at the same time, but you instantly feel a sense of mystery and darkness linger around them even despite his warm smile. He is nothing like the men you ever dealt with and he is… way out of your league. 

Lifting your chin you spare him with one last look before walking away, fighting the urge to look back if he is still there or maybe you just imagined him. 

Your drinks are already waiting for you by your seat and you down the shot before you could climb back to your seat. Given the fact that you came with an empty stomach, the alcohol has started working its wonders on you. You feel a low buzz in your chest, a slight numbness in your head and you know the martini in front of you will be your last drink if you want to make it back to your place. 

Your thoughts are still circling around the man in the hallway when you spot him again from the corner of your eyes. Down at the end of the bar, he is talking to the bartender who’s been serving you. His jacket is gone, so you see the silky shirt hanging elegantly from his frame, the fabric shimmering in the light that comes from behind the bar, illuminating the wall of expensive bottles showcased. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing that his left arm is heavily tattooed, but the other one has something as well, but half of it is hidden underneath the shirt. 

He is helping the bartender unload some bottles into the fridge that’s underneath the counter as the talk. When they are down to the last one he stands up and runs a ring-clad hand through his hair and his eyes move up and catch your gaze before you could look away and pretend like you weren’t ogling him. Your cheeks burn up right away as you snap your eyes back at your drink in front of you. With silent prayers that he won’t come closer, you busy yourself with the only thing you can do: drinking. But just as you lift the glass to your lips you see a black form walk up to where you’re sitting and you can’t stop yourself from looking up at him. 

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks with a charming smile, his hands planted onto the counter in front of you, giving you the chance to see the veins running underneath his smooth skin and for a split second you can’t help but imagine what it might feel like to be held by those hands. 

“Um, no, I’m good. Thank you.”

“Good,” he repeats, but it drips with something else, something more, something… heavy. “Waiting for someone?”

His question came out of the blue, you weren’t expecting him to strike up a conversation and start it with that. Your muscles tense and suddenly, after being so drawn to keep looking at the man in front of you, it becomes your priority to avoid his gaze at all cost. 

“No,” you say shortly and take a sip, no, a gulp from your drink. 

What you don’t see is how his face darkens. The smile fades and his eyebrows draw together as he lets his hands fall from the counter and move to cross over his chest. 

You expect him to move away from the rather tensed and awkward scene, but he remains standing in the same spot until you notice him turn around, but just to grab two shot glasses, he fills them up with something that could easily be vodka again, but you wouldn’t know because you don’t see the glass he pours from. Then he turns around and places the shots onto the counter, pushing one a little closer to you. When you look up, you see his head a bit tilted, waiting with a questioning look and an unknown sparkle in his eyes that are green, now you’re sure. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t… Um…”

“Just this one. As an apology on behalf of the piece of shit who is too blind and idiotic to see what he missed out on.”

Your breath is caught in your throat as you stare back at him. For a second, you let yourself believe that there’s more behind his words, that there’s attraction, lust and desire. For you.

But then your usual mechanism kicks in and your mind is quick to turn it around and convince you it’s not at all like that. He just feels sorry for you, it’s only pity, because a man like him would never be interested in a woman like you. 

“Sure,” you whisper with a nod and take the shot. He takes his and holds up, waits for you to do the same. 

Then he gives you a nod with a charming, crooked smile and your eyes remain locked on each other as you both take the shots. It’s vodka and it burns, but you don’t even flinch as you put the glass back onto the counter and watch him snatch it away. He is just about to say something when the bartender calls out for him from the end of the bar, but because you weren’t listening, you miss what his name is. He looks back at you once more and then walks away. 

You don’t see him for the rest of the time you spend there. Finishing the drink you ask to close your tab and then you’re getting ready to leave when the bartender slips the receipt over to you. At first you don’t even pay any attention to it, but then you notice something is different about it. You grab it from the counter and then read the words scribbled onto it with a black marker.

Please come back tomorrow.

You feel like an idiot all day. Trying to keep yourself busy by cleaning and cooking, no matter what you do you always find yourself looking at that damn receipt, reading the words over and over again. Since you left the bar yesterday until this moment, you’ve thought of every possible scenario why he would ask you to return. Realistic ones, ridiculous versions, you thought of them all, but somehow you always ended up settling on the same one, even despite the fact your mind has been fighting hard not to let you believe he could want anything from you. 

It grinds your nerves all day until you decide to act on it. You put on a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt with your trusty sneakers, nothing extra, very far from looking fancy and then head back to the bar before you could talk yourself out of it. 

It’s the afternoon on a Sunday, it’s no surprise the place is deserted when you walk in, only a handful of people are lingering around here and there in contrast to the buzz it had yesterday. You try your best to settle the uneasy feeling in your gut as you walk up to the bar. There’s a woman standing behind this time who you didn’t see last night. She’s drying glasses with a cloth since there’s not much to do without anyone sitting on the stools. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” she asks with a bright smile as you walk up to her. 

“Um, I was wondering if the guy who worked last night was working today? Brown hair, tattoos… I don’t… know his name.”

It’s an understatement to say you feel awkward asking around about the guy even though he practically asked you to come back. At least he could have given you his name to avoid appearing like a stalker. 

The woman furrows her eyebrows as she purses her lips, tilting her head.

“I swear I’m not here to make a scene or anything,” you add with a nervous laugh. 

“Ah, I was just thinking. Because I know for a fact that Nico was working last night, but he for sure has no tattoos.”

You swear you saw the tattoos on his chest and arms, you did not just imagine those, but now you’re doubting yourself.

“He, uhh, he wore, like, a black suit and a black, silky shirt… Rings…” This is as far as you can go describing him without adding details you’d rather keep to yourself. Like how his hands looked delicate but rough at the same time, the way his lips curled when he smiled could push all the air out of your lungs and his smooth, velvety voice was like you were wrapped into a warm, soft blanket whenever he talked.

Luckily, you see her face light up at the last few details you just said.

“Oh! You must be…” She doesn’t finish it, just lets her smile stretch wide as she squares her shoulder. “Let me grab him for you,” she then winks and before you could get another word out, she disappears. 

Laying your hands flat on the bar top you start drumming nervously as you wait. A thought flashes through your mind that it was a mistake coming here, trying to convince you to just leave before it’s too late, but you fight it and shove it to the back of your head, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you pull your hands back and start rubbing your palms against your thighs. 

A few seconds later the woman appears from the back with the same wide smile and just when you start to think the man is not here, he follows her out, turning your sanity upside down with just a simple look. 

He is wearing a black t-shirt this time, short sleeved, putting his previously mentioned tattoos on perfect display. The shirt is tucked into a pair of gray dress pants that hug his waist so well, you’re drawn to stare at his body for a few moments as he moves closer behind the bar. 

The bartender woman passes you while the man stops in front of you, a cheeky, but genuine smile tugging on his lips as he leans onto the counter just like how he did yesterday, only this time you see his muscles flex from the movement thanks to the short sleeves. 

“What a pleasure to welcome you back.”

Your knees threaten to give up for a second from hearing his voice again, as if it’s proof that you didn’t just make him up last night, he is not just a mirage. 

Reaching into your purse you pull the receipt out and slide it over to him. 

“You invited me back.”

“I did,” he nods, not even glancing down at the piece of paper, like he doesn’t need to be reminded of what he did. “But I didn’t know you’d actually return.”

Unsure what to say, you allow yourself to assess him, take in his perfectly carved features, the unruly curls, the rings adorning his inviting hands. If you were on your own, just looking at a picture of him, you’d definitely tell yourself it’s too good to be true that a man like him would ever pay you any attention. But having him standing in front of you, feel his burning gaze on you, this magnetic pull that vibrates from him, you’re battling yourself harder than ever.

“I was curious,” you admit at last. 

“Then I’m happy to satisfy your curiosity. Why don’t we sit down?” he asks, gesturing towards one of the booths by the wall.

“Won’t you get into trouble?” you ask, but he just gives you a toothy smile as he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about that, Angel. Go ahead and sit, I’ll make us a drink.”

Once you’re turned away and walking towards a booth you let out a long, shaky breath. 

“Get a grip,” you tell yourself as you slide into the booth and try to get comfortable. It’s frustrating a man could have an effect this powerful on you after barely even talking to him. What kind of black magic is he practicing?

A few minutes later you see him walking over to you with two drinks in his hands. One is obviously a pornstar martini for you, the other one you don’t know. It’s in a simple, short glass, one big cube of ice, the drink itself is a nice amber color, you spot a curl of orange peel and some fresh rosemary in it. 

He slips into the booth with ease and moves closer to you than you expected as he places the drinks to the table. 

“Might be best if we started with our names,” he suggests. “I’m Harry.” 

His name rolls off his tongue so ravishingly, you have to stop yourself from repeating after him. He holds out a hand for you that you take. Your skin starts tingling the moment it meets with his warm touch.

“Y/N.”

“Such a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he nods, giving your hand a squeeze before letting it go. 

While you feel a bit awkward, trying to find a way to sit beside him, it appears he is quick to find his place, crossing one leg over the other, his arm closer to you is stretched over the back of the booth, his hand falling somewhere behind you, but it’s not touching you. His other hand is gently playing with his drink, twirling it between his fingers. 

“I know it’s probably not the best thing to start with, but I just have to ask. Last night, were you stood up?”

All your blood rushes to your head and your palms start sweating as you turn your head away embarrassed. You’ve been so caught up in him that you kind of forgot about what Brannon did. 

“Yes,” you whisper, hands dropping into your lap as you nervously fidget with your fingers.

The hand that’s been behind you moves to the side of your face, his knuckles gently brushing across your cheek, just enough to make you turn your head and look at him. 

“Don’t even think for a moment his behavior lessens your worth.”

“I’m not so sure if there’s any left of that to lessen.”

The words leave your mouth before you could even think them through, surprising you with their bluntness. You’re not one to share such personal thoughts with a stranger, not even your closest friends. 

Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression and you half expect him to just let it slip and not acknowledge what you said. But he sticks to that in a way you never experienced.

“I would give an arm to have the chance to show how much I see just after spending only minutes with you.”

You’re speechless and from the hidden smile you notice in the corners of his mouth you assume he finds it entertaining, witnessing the effect he has on you. He grabs his drink from the table and you watch him lazily take a sip before placing it back and leaning forward, getting closer to you, but still not quite crossing an invisible line between the two of you. 

“Y/N, I know this is very straight-forward and I’m aware that we are very much just strangers at this point, but I’m more than eager to change that.”

“Why?” you hear yourself asking in an airy, weak voice. “Because you’re sorry for me?”

Now it’s his turn to be taken aback. The way he frowns almost makes you want to apologize even for asking. 

“Sorry is the last thing I’m feeling right now. And it wasn’t what I felt when you bumped into me last night or when I wrote that message to your receipt. Or… when I sent over that round of drinks to you and your friends not long ago.”

“You what?”

“You were here, maybe a few weeks ago, with your friends, right?”

“I-I was, but…”

“The round of drinks. I sent it.”

“Why?” you ask again and notice the amusement in his look.

“The same reason I wanted you to return today. Because take my breath away and I never give up on the chance to get to know whoever has that effect on me.”

You stare back at him blankly, a million thoughts racing in your head while also not able to put together a coherent one. It is everything you ever wished to experience, but it also feels incredibly odd and… wrong. 

“What kind of twisted game is it you’re playing?”

Harry furrows his eyebrows slightly.

“None. Why are you questioning my intentions so passionately?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you say with a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you grab your drink and take two gulps, hoping the alcohol might help you untangle the mess in your head. 

“How is my interest in you ridiculous?”

“Because it is. You cannot sell me that you spotted me among my friends last time, that I was the one who caught your attention and that when you saw me last night again you just had to take your chance to lure me here again so you could talk to me. It’s absolutely ridiculous.”

He stays silent and you don’t look at him for a bit, trying to calm your rocketing pulse. But his silence starts to drive you mad again, so you turn to face him and see that unreadable expression on his face again. 

“You’re invalidating my attraction just because you haven’t received it before.” 

It’s like he is reading you like you’re an open book, he looks at you and you can feel him raiding through your mind and you can do nothing against it. 

“It’s actually sad but also exciting to be the first one to give it to you.”

“But why me?” you keep pushing.

“Why do you like pornstar martini?” he asks with a cheeky smile and you decide to ignore how erotic that sounded from him. 

“What?”

“You choose it because you like it, yeah? Why?”

“Because… I don’t know, it tastes… good,” you answer, complete confusion taking over you. 

“See, that is why you. I don’t know it just yet, but I just know that…” He doesn’t finish, but you can hear the rest.

I just know you taste good.

The all too familiar pulse between your legs is making you cross your legs underneath the table, but Harry catches the movement and his grin grows wide, but he doesn’t comment on it, just takes a sip of his drink. 

“We took it very intensely quite suddenly. Let’s just talk and we can return to this matter a bit later,” he suggests then softly, losing that tiny cockiness from his voice for now. “What is there to know about you, Y/N?”

You need a bit of time to recover and actually start telling him about yourself. He asks you about your job, your family, your hobbies, what you like and what you hate, all while giving you his full, undivided attention. Even though he has made it clear he is interested in you, somehow you end up taking the situation with even more caution than usually, but slowly and almost unnoticed, it eases from your gut. 

“Now it’s your turn,” you say, once you’ve had enough of talking about yourself. Just as he is about to start talking, the bartender shows up at the table and you’re convinced she’ll ask him to go back to work. 

“Boss, the supplier was on the phone, they need confirmation until tomorrow morning.”

Boss? 

“Thanks Jenny,” Harry smiles up at her warmly. “I’ll take care of it.” The bartender, Jenny as you learned, nods and then disappears. When Harry looks back at you, it’s apparent he was expecting the questioning look from you. 

“Boss? Did I hear that right?”

“Absolutely did,” he chuckles. 

“So you’re…”

“I won this place. Along with another one downtown and two more over on the West coast.”

You click your tongue as you turn away to have a look around, though you’ve examined the place enough before. It’s not the kind that screams ‘this is my first business, it’s doing fairly well’, but rather one that screams wealth and business. The bar itself is definitely high end, but it’s also connected to the hotel above, so it drives in some great traffic from there as well and of course, it’s a five star hotel, so the guests are usually not the kind who shies away from paying for a nice drink. Adding just the thought of three more places similar to this to the picture is just plainly mind-blowing to you.

And yet, just minutes ago you were convinced he’s a bartender here. 

“You knew I thought you were staff when I asked if you’d get into trouble.” Harry nods. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because that would have immensely changed the dynamic.”

“No, I–”

“Yes,” he fights back with a meaningful look. “You had a hard time believing I could be interested in you when you thought I was a bartender here. Had you known I owned this place you would have never let go of the power imbalance that comes with the judgment of my position in my business.”

You want to protest, but you can’t. Because you know it well that he is actually right. 

To ease the sudden change in the mood, Harry starts talking about himself and the business as he can tell you’re curious how he ended up as the boss. He tells you how it all started in college, he and a few of his friends came up with the idea of opening a bar and once they graduated he and the one remaining friend who was still into the idea decided to act on it. Niall, the friend, earned a great amount of money from his trust fund after graduation, which they used to the last cent to open the place ten years ago. Feeling guilty that he couldn’t bring as much money into the business in the beginning, Harry tried to make up for it by working twice as hard. As time passed and they opened the second place three years later, Niall started to wander to different fields and only remained a silent partner in the business, letting Harry take over fully. The expansion on the West coast happened just two years ago, but they are already thinking about the next location.

“Are you still friends?” you ask him.

“With Niall? Yes, absolutely. He has his own company in IT security that he actually started from the money of this business. It’s more his world than this now, but we try to meet at least every month when we are in the same city. And I still need his signature on some stuff,” he adds with a chuckle. 

“That’s great it didn’t ruin your friendship. Working together can be risky.”

“I know. We had our ups and downs for sure, but nothing we couldn’t talk through.”

It was amazing to see him talk about it so profound and passionately. It makes him so… humane. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and when he pulls it out, he sighs quietly. He ignores the call, but when he looks at you again you know he has to go.

“Y/N, we need to revisit what we talked about earlier, because I have to go soon.”

Your cheeks heat up instantly as you roll your lips into your mouth. 

“What about it?”

“Most importantly we need to talk about when we can meet again.”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes and can’t hold back a smile when you see his cheeky grin as he sits turned towards you, his upper body angled to face you completely. 

“The most convenient would be tomorrow,” he adds shamelessly.

“So soon?”

“I wanted to say I would love to see you in about three hours when we close, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager.”

That makes you laugh and Harry gifts you with a proud, crooked smile.

“Are you sick of this place?”

“Why?”

“Because you could come here tomorrow and I could teach you how to make your drink,” he says, nodding towards your now empty glass. You actually love the idea of that, doing something new in a not so new setting. 

“I can be here by seven.”

“I’ll be waiting for you behind the bar.”

You have never been this eager to put down work at five finally. It doesn’t matter that you still have a few unanswered emails in your inbox, you decide they can wait until tomorrow. 

You haven’t stopped thinking about Harry since you left the bar yesterday. You can’t even remember the last time you were like this, probably in high school when you had a crush in junior year. It’s ridiculous, honestly, but it’s also quite exciting. 

You walk into the bar for the third time in the past three days. You would have guessed that a Monday evening would be just as eventful as Sunday, but apparently a lot of people like to go out for drinks on the first day of the week. It’s not like on Saturday, but about half of the tables are taken. Crossing the place you’re heading straight to the bar, searching for one particular tall figure, but you don’t see him. 

Nico, the bartender from Saturday, is on shift again, though as you reach the bar he doesn’t seem to recognize you. 

“Hi, what can I get you?”

You’re just about to ask him to tell Harry that you arrived when the familiar, velvety voice speaks up right behind you. 

“I have the lady covered, thanks Nico.”

Turning around you’re met with Harry’s warm but cheeky smile as he stands just a couple of feet away from you. Today he is wearing a pair of black dress pants with a black long sleeve, but the sleeves are rolled up above his elbows. There’s a light stubble darkening his jawline, he surely skipped shaving this morning, but you’re not mad about it, it adds a bit of roughness to him. 

“Welcome back, Y/N,” he nods at you.

“Hi,” is all you manage to push out of yourself. He is very much aware of your nervousness, but it just widens his smile. 

“Ready to master the pornstar martini?” he asks as he steps closer and places a hand to the small of your back to usher you behind the bar. 

“Absolutely.”

The two of you settle at the end of the bar so you’re not disturbing the actual service with your little scene. Harry hands you a black apron and he puts one on himself as well after helping you tie yours behind your back. Then the learning starts.

Harry is actually a great bartender himself. As he gathers everything you need for the drink, he tells you how he learned to bartend after opening the place. They had a few times when they fell short on staff and he needed to serve, so he figured it’s best if he just learns it fully rather than just clumsily mixing up the drinks whenever help is needed. 

“What’s your favorite to make?” you ask as you’re cutting the passion fruit in two on a cutting board and Harry examines your every move like a good mentor.

“I think it’s Rum Martinez.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s a Japanese cocktail, pretty smoky and kind of complicated to make. I’ve had it twice, it was always served with a cigar. I only made it once though, but it was fun.”

Harry truly meant it when he said you’d learn how to make your drink. He doesn’t touch anything in the mixing process, only instructs you, clear and patiently as you add the right amounts into the shaker. When you put the top of the shaker on however, he moves behind you and as his arms come round you to grab the shaker along with you, for a few seconds you definitely forget to breathe. 

This close you can smell his cologne, the warmth of his body is melting you against him and when you lean back just the slightest bit he pushes forward to tighten the physical connection between the two of you. 

“Alright. Now, this is how you shake it properly,” he murmurs, his face right next to yours as his hands cover yours on the shaker. 

You let him take the lead as he starts shaking, his warm palms holding your hand against the cool shaker, moving it up and down, left and right in a controlled, rhythmic way. He is giving it quite the force, you feel the ice inside tumble harshly as you keep shaking. 

“Okay, now take the cap off.”

He lets go of the shaker, but remains standing behind you as he instructs you. You do as he said and he reaches past you to bring the glass closer for you. 

“Carefully, but with confidence” he murmurs, one hand moving to cover yours when you start pouring, but too slowly, so he helps you to tilt the right amount. The beautiful yellow liqueur fills up the glass with a perfect layer of foam on top. 

“And finally, the passion fruit.”

He points at the fruit on the cutting board and you take one half, gently dropping it into the middle and watch as it stays afloat with pride. 

“There. You just made your first pornstar martini.”

Harry steps away from behind you and you almost protest, eager to feel his warmth behind you as he comes into your view again, watching you bring the drink to your lips. You take a sip and once you taste it, you can’t hold your smile back.

“It’s amazing.”

“All yours,” he dips his head a bit with a bright smile and you can’t look away from his sparkling eyes. 

The foam of the drink sticks to your upper lip so when you put the glass down you run your tongue over, licking it off and you catch him watching your mouth with obvious hunger, as if he is ready to have a taste from the cocktail, but only from your lips. 

The moment burns and you feel it deep in your chest. Almost unnoticed, you both inch closer and you feel an irresistible pull towards him. Your heart is drumming in your throat and the muscles in your torso tense even at just the thought of kissing him. 

But right when you are about to cross the line Nico’s curse pops your bubble and Harry’s head whips around in alert.

“Shit!” you see Nico jump back from the counter, one hand wrapped around the other, a cutting board with lemons and a knife left behind.

“What happened?” Harry asks, grabbing a rag as he steps closer to assess the situation.

“I wasn’t paying attention and cut my finger,” Nico hisses and you step closer just in time to see him showing the cut. It doesn’t look bad, but it’s bleeding quite heavily.

“Go and clean it out. I’ll cover the bar.”

Nico mumbles a quick thanks as he rushes back before he could bleed on anything behind the bar. Just as he exits, two women walk up to Harry, who switches into bartender mode pretty fast. He gives you a quick ‘I’m sorry’ glance as he takes their order and starts mixing up their drinks. You just give him a reassuring smile and focus on your drink, patiently waiting. 

At first you don’t even pay attention to the conversation the two women strike up with him. But as Harry starts serving a man who walked up to the bar after them you notice how they stayed there and it makes you wonder so you turn your attention to their sugar coated voices. 

“Oh, then we feel honored to be served by the big boss,” the blonde one chuckles, leaning forward just enough so that his shirt tugs down, teasing the view of her cleavage. 

“Just… helping in,” Harry gives a tight-lipped smile, barely even glancing at her as he makes the cocktail. 

“See, I told you it'll be worth coming here on a Monday,” the other one giggles as she gently sways to the soft music that’s playing through the speakers. 

It’s a sight that’s an easy trigger for you. They did nothing wrong other than flirting with a man they find attractive. And you know Harry barely even acknowledged their efforts, but still, it was enough to let that evil little voice out of its cage in the back of your mind. 

They are gorgeous and you’re nothing like them. They are thin and looking around you already see a dozen men looking at them. You can never be like them. 

Deep down you know these thoughts are worthless, but once they take over it’s hard to fight them, to see yourself in a better light. Not when you’ve struggled with this for so long and spent long years to convince yourself it’s all that matters. 

There’s nothing left of the free spirit you were just minutes ago. When this happens you simply close off and want to disappear as fast as possible. For a moment you think of just leaving while Harry is not paying attention, but you’d hate to walk out on him like that so you stay there, trying to take up as little space as physically possible as you finish your drink. 

Nico soon comes back, his left ring finger bandaged up, ready to get back to work, which means Harry is free from bar duty again. He doesn’t hesitate to walk away from the two women and return to you, but you’ve let your spiraling thoughts win by now.

He notices something is wrong the moment he sees you avoid looking into his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, dipping his head to try to get you to look at him. 

“Nothing,” you shake your head, but it’s a weak attempt to mask just how uncomfortable you’re feeling.

“Y/N, I know that’s not true. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” you push, then take a deep breath to help you swallow the bitterness in your mouth. 

There’s a few seconds of pause when you’re convinced he’ll say to end the date and then you already see yourself never coming here to avoid ever running into him. The voice in the back of your mind is already working hard to convince you it’s for the best, that it would have never worked, you’re way too different and sooner or later he would see you the way you see yourself. 

But it never happens. Instead, he silently packs away everything you used for the cocktail and when he’s done, he gently takes your hand and starts to pull you towards the door that leads out to the hotel’s lobby. Confused, but curious, you follow him and don’t say a word until the two of you stop at the elevators.

“Harry, where are we going?”

“Up. To my suite.”

“You have a suite here?”

“I do. Comes with the perks of owning the bar that’s part of the hotel.” 

His hand is still holding yours, warm and gentle, but still confident, especially when he tightens his hold as the elevator arrives and he pulls you inside, pushing the button of the 18th floor. He doesn’t let go of you as the elevator starts moving, you just stand there next to each other without a word until it arrives and the doors slide open. 

Harry once again pulls you with him, striding down the carpeted hallway to the door with the number 1804 next to it. He fishes out a card from his pocket and taps it against the lock that clicks silently, letting him open the door and that’s when his hand falls from yours, letting you walk in first as he holds the door open for you. 

You haven’t been to a hotel this elegant, not as a guest at least. You’ve attended a few conferences but you could only see the lobby and the conference rooms during those, not the rooms or in this case, the suites. 

You walk into a spacious living room  with a minibar, dark purple couches facing the TV mounted onto the wall, the floor-to-ceiling windows giving an impeccable view of the city lights. There’s a door on the left and the right, one is probably leading to the bedroom, the other one must be the bathroom and though the doors are closed, you can imagine how good they must be designed.

The suite is definitely not untouched, you see signs of Harry here and there, the envelopes on the coffee table, the single used mug next to them, some sort of hoodie thrown over the back of one of the armchairs and a Macbook lying on the desk next to the TV. 

“It’s permanently reserved for me. I spend so much time at the bar, it’s easier if sometimes I don’t have to drive all the way home and can just stay here,” he explains as you walk further inside, stopping by the window to have a look at the view. 

Slowly, you turn around and look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Why are we here?”

He is standing a few feet away, his hands hidden in his pockets, but his stance feels welcoming and open even despite your closed off behavior. 

“To be alone. I don’t want the circumstances to bother you. I know things can get overwhelming sometimes.”

You remain still, not sure what to say or do. It really has been overwhelming, but only because sometimes your own mind turns against you and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets and cautiously takes a few steps closer to you, but still leaves a bit of space between the two of you. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks so softly, it almost makes you want to cry, because he doesn’t feel real, nothing does when it’s about him. You’re so set on how unmatching you feel around him that it’s almost impossible to think otherwise now. 

“I don’t see it,” you reply in a whisper.

“See what?”

“I don’t see what you see in me. I only see my version of myself and it’s… not good.”

The tears are stinging your eyes. You have probably never said these words out loud, but somehow, you feel safe enough with Harry to bring this side of you out, though the fear that he might get fed up with it is still strong in the pit of your stomach. 

You have no idea what kind of reaction you were expecting from him, to be honest you couldn’t imagine a version where he stands his ground and doesn’t agree with all the awful things you harbor about yourself. 

But then he steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face in them as he angles your head so you’re looking up at him, holding you like that, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I want to show you. How I see you.”

His hands slide down to your neck, his thumbs are underneath your chin to keep you in place, his gaze dipping down to your lips a couple of times before settling on your eyes, waiting, silently asking for permission and though you don’t say a single word he understands you.

His first kiss is brief, but confident. His lips press against yours and they open slowly, just enough so that his tongue can tease you before he pulls back, though he doesn’t move far, his nose is still brushing against yours. Opening your eyes you find him looking at you, his otherwise light and bright eyes are now several shades darker, lust dripping from the curled up ends of his lashes as he waits for you to make up your mind whether you want to go further or not. Somehow, his black magic must have worked enough on you to mute that evil voice in the back of your head, the absence of it giving you the chance to give yourself into the moment. 

You push up against him this time eagerly, open mouth meeting his and he’s quick to react with just as much passion. 

One of his hands moves down to your waist and when his fingers dig into the soft flesh you can’t hold back a moan that’s immediately swallowed by him. You fist his shirt, desperately trying to pull closer even though he is entirely pressed up against you. 

Blindly he starts moving, pulling you with him, your kiss never breaking as you move around the couch. Then his lips leave yours and you’re forced to open your eyes just as he sits down on the couch, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs as he pulls you between his knees and he kisses your stomach through the fabric of your shirt. Out of reflex you try to pull away or avert him somewhere else, but his hands squeeze your thighs as his eyes snap up to meet your gaze.

“How I see you, remember? Let me show you,” he reminds you and though every inch of you is screaming to pull away, you stay.

Harry pushes your shirt up and unbuttons your pants before his hands grab you by the waist. He twists you around and pulls you down on him, so you end up lying half on top of him with your back pressed against his chest. 

“Harry,” you gasp when his right hand starts to slip into your pants and then under your underwear, but his other hand falls to your heaving chest as if he could calm your jumping pulse with just one touch.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, I don’t want to push anything on you.” His lips are by your ear that brushes against them when you nod and just let him do whatever he wants. 

When two of his fingers slip between your wet folds, your lips part with a sigh, your head rolling back to his shoulder just from his touch. He is gentle but determined, starts off by just moving those two fingers up and down, gently applying some pressure at the perfect spots before keep moving. Then they settle on your clit and start drawing circles in a slow pace, playing with the pressure once again, setting your nerves on fire. 

You keep moaning and gasping as you still lie on top of him, his other hand moves underneath your shirt, but it doesn’t go further up just yet, only remains flat on your skin. You can’t stop your body from falling into a rhythm, hips buckling, spine arching with certain movements, especially when he starts to gradually increase his pace. 

When a tiny shock rides through your body with a rougher movement one of your hands grabs onto his thigh by your side, fingers digging into his muscles, earning a deep grunt from him that rumbles right underneath you. 

Your other hand snaps to his wrist as you completely lose control over yourself and push his hand a bit further, showing him where and how you need him the most and he is quick to pick up on the clues and add to the sensation. 

“Y/N, Angel, let go for me,” he whispers into your ear and while his hand between your legs doesn’t stop for a moment, the other one finally inches up and cups your breast, kneading it sensually. 

“Harry, I–Ah!” You’ve lost your ability to voice a coherent thought. You have none, the feelings Harry is making you feel have taken over you entirely. 

“I know, I know,” he murmurs and when you turn your head he doesn’t hesitate to capture your lips in a deep kiss and while you’re eager to return it, you lose control over your movements when you feel your orgasm tipping you over the edge. It stretches and teases and then it washes over you like a tidal wave. 

Gasping for air, your back arches and your nails dig into his wrist and thigh, you hear him say something but his words are tuned out, you hear or see nothing, only feel.

But you feel everything. 

You have no idea how long it takes for you to calm down and come back to real life. When it happens you realize Harry’s hand has moved away from between your legs and both of them are placed on your stomach, his fingers gently brushing against your skin in a slow rhythm. 

When you find your strength you wiggle around until you’re lying on your stomach, facing him. Even though you were the only one who benefited from the scene you just experienced, you see a deep satisfaction etched across his face as his lips break out into a smile. 

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you chuckle and pushing yourself up you stretch your neck until your lips meet his. This kiss is different, it’s gentle and slow, but just as meaningful as the ones before. 

“So,” he starts as he reaches up, running his fingers down the side of your face. “Did you see what I see?”

“I… felt it,” you say, part of you afraid of his reaction. But as you watch him, all you see is that same sweet, charming smile you’ve seen from him so many times before.

“That’s a start.”

“Yeah.”

“And I’m more than happy to work on it until you really see it.”

Staring at him, you search for something. Anything that gives away the slightest sign that gives away that he is not being genuine, but you find none and it feels heavier than if you did. Completely touched by his words the tears start dwelling in your eyes. 

“Where have you been?” you ask in just a whisper.

“Well…” he breathes out, locking you in his arms. “Behind bars the past ten years,” he says and there’s a heartbeat of silence as you both realize what he just said and the duality of it. 

You both burst out in laughter at the same time.

“Not like that!” he shakes his head.

“I guess there are a lot I don’t know about you, that’s fair.”

“And do you want to know more?” He challenges you. Your laughter fades into just a soft smile.

“I do. Do you want to know more about me?”

“Everything. I want to know everything.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[tender-rosiey]

“JUST LOSE CONTROL, LOVE”

— gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, toji being obsessed with you (gn!r)

a/n: ehehe, I hope you guys like this <33 (a bit suggestive ✨)

SATORU GOJO:

“satoru, what’re you?—“

you’re cut off as he pushes you against the wall. his eyes are glossed over and his breathing is heavy, “I am hanging on by a thread, y/n…”

only one thing is on his mind, it seems.

he takes a hold of your chin and makes you look at him, “i was never completely sane to begin with…but you’re going to make me get rid of the remains of it.”

his gaze is intense, and you genuinely wished that he had his blindfold on. your knees feel weak, but your hand cups his cheek, nonetheless, “and…what’s wrong with that?”

he lets out a raspy chuckle, “quite the temptress,” he picks you up and his lips find their place on your neck.

you fist his shirt, and try to hold back any sound from coming out. you feel him smirk against your skin with a murmur, “look who’s holding back now.”

“you live in my mind,” he mumbles as he trails kisses along your neck and shoulders and you quiver at his touch.

he pulls back and pecks your lips, but it is far from innocent. he has a devilish grin on his face as he nears your ear and whispers, “I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it.”

KENTO NANAMI:

another mission was completed by the kids successfully and they partied; however, gojo had a thought of hosting another party for the adults. consider it unwinding.

naturally, you were invited. you were very proud of the kids and were eager to attend the second party. honestly, you didn’t think anything would happen today, especially making out with nanami, the cool and collected man.

“nanami, people…” you whisper, but he doesn’t relent, lips kissing yours time after time.

he tilts your chin up, “forget about them; focus on me.”

he probably feels your grip weakening as he picks you up and seats you on the counter, “everyone is lost in their world.”

he, gently but firmly, squeezes your hips and pulls you to him once again, “so what’s wrong with us doing the same?”

he smirks lightly, something unfamiliar but very welcome, “plus its not like I can stop, dearest.”

he caresses your cheek, “you’re simply irresistible, my love,” a kiss on the cheek, “divine,” a kiss on the neck, “gorgeous,” a kiss on the shoulder, “I would need the utmost strength to resist you.”

he lets out a breath as he looks you in the eye and nears your face, “and I am a weak man.”

SUGURU GETO:

your husband’s descent into madness, thankfully, didn’t translate into how he treats you. he is always gentle and playful.

sometimes, though, that madness shows in some things. you can’t say that they don’t excite you.

for example, right now, suguru has yet to detach himself from you as he kisses you. his kisses are gentle but a little unhinged. they are soft but just a tiny bit rough.

one hand wanders while the other one doesn’t leave your waist.

he is desperate and can’t help but want to feel every inch of you.

“suguru,” you try to calm him down and to steady yourself but to no avail. he doesn’t relent, each kiss more eager than the former.

on the other hand, you just can’t compete against him.

specially as he smirks and he kisses your neck, “abandon rationality, honey,” his lips graze your neck as he speaks.

you don’t respond and you feel him chuckle and he looks up at you with lovesick eyes, “crazy suits you anyway.”

you hold onto his shoulders as he connects your lips once again. the passion flows from him and you feel so tempted to join him on the other side.

so you do.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

“my king,” you murmur as you stroke his hair.

“hm?” he grumbles as he looks up at you. His head is on your lap, and he was minutes away from dozing off.

you chuckle lightly and your hands, involuntarily, stop their movements. he doesn’t like it so he sits up and glares at you, “why did you stop?”

you pinch his cheek—one of the many privileges you have—and whisper close to this face, “I think you’re enraptured by me, my king.”

he laughs a hearty laugh that surprises you. It shakes his entire body, “me? enraptured by you?”

his hand cradles your head and pulls you towards him. he has a menacing grin on his face as he says, “then that makes you obsessed with me, doll.”

you smirk and place a kiss on his lips, “it’s a mutual obsession, my king.”

“at least do it properly.”

sukuna is rough and possessive. his hold on you is firm and you know he won’t let go.

you think that he wants to corrupt you, with the way he is kissing you and giving you no time to think about anything but him.

he fails to realize that you’re already corrupted as he is by you.

TOJI FUSHIGURO:

“mister toji, pleasure seeing you again,” you greet as said man enters your office, again.

he chuckles, “why the formality? I thought we were closer than that, boss.”

you quirk an eyebrow and reply swiftly, “we’re in my workplace; such formality is expected and needed especially for you, sir.”

“I like it when you call me that,” he chuckles.

“have you done what I asked of you?” you try and change the subject.

“who do you take me for, doll face?”

You smile humorlessly, “you’re in a good mood today, considering the nicknames and everything.”

he merely looks at you with eyes filled by hidden desire, something you’ve learned to notice from a mile away.

he takes a hold of your hand, “let’s take this somewhere.”

“toji no.”

he pays you no mind as he pulls you to the closet and locks the door.

you whisper-shout, “what’re you doing?!”

“nothing you won’t like,” he responds smugly.

“but you can’t just take me away like that!”

he places his finger on your lip, smirk never leaving his face. he holds your face and says, “cross the boundaries; they weren’t even there to begin with,”

you don’t get to respond as he smashes your lips together. his hand rests firmly on your neck and deepens the kiss.

you hold onto his shoulder weakly and he pulls back and chuckles.

“isn’t easier…to just give in?”

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do not copy or plagiarize or I will make you sleep-deprived

[pursuitseternal]

“Virgin Blood:” Spawn Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw Loss of Innocence Spice for you, darlings…

Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.6K Loss of virginity

Summary: You’re eager to meet your rogue in the woods, and you can think of no better person to take your innocence than your Vampire Rogue… And doesn’t he just cherish the idea… eager to taste your virgin blood.

Act 1 Romance Retold…

CW: loss of virginity, first time, Praise kink, Astarion takes his time, virginity kink, gentle sex, Astarion more than happy to make you feel all the more beholding to him…

For you, Anonymous sweet thing in my ask box 💞

Ao3 link | Astarion fic Master List

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“I just hope we don’t have to wait too long…”

Gods, you hope so too. Your body is on fire, and not just from the battlelust of saving lives.

It is because of him.

His little flirtations that have eroded you, his sweet words and greetings that fill your ear each day. The way his crimson eyes already devour you, as if he can’t get his full of your looks.

And then he bit you.

So intimate and foreign.

And new.

Each time now, your body sings when he feeds, and not just because you can feel your blood dripping down his throat and making him stronger.

You feel seen. Desired. Wanted. He hungers for you and seeks you out. Gods, as if you hadn’t been looking for one to do that for you since you came of age.

Something stirs in your body when you are near him, something wild and untamed. Waiting to be released. Your kind never told you what it was between two lovers, only the lessons you found in nature, the rutting seasons of the earth. That was all you knew of… sex.

But to hear him beckoning you, offering you passion like none other, somewhere quiet for just you and him.

Your body aches… burning. Singing. The blood in your veins pumping wildly. You want so badly to be touched and tasted. But mostly, wanting to be seen.

Wanting him to see more of you. All of you.

So, as the party begins to quiet, you watch your Rogue snatch up some blankets and wine, throwing you a knowing glance that makes your stomach twist and leap.

Gods, he thinks of everything doesn’t he?

Others begin to make their way to sleep, but you step into the woods. Your mind firmly set to give him another gift, and this time, you’re humming in your veins, your nerves crying to be touched. Because you want him to receive this, knowing just how much you will undoubtedly receive in return.

Your footsteps rustle softly in the leaves along the path. You follow that pull in your belly, knowing this is the way he wandered. Knowing that he is close…

That Astarion waits for you.

You pass through the trees, drawing to a stop the moment you see him. Gods, already his pale chest on display. Your mouth waters, your skin grows hot, even though you don’t completely know why.

“There you are,” he purrs, striding to close the distance between you. That handsome face is bright with his own intention. “I’ve been waiting…”

He draws still, a breath away from your body, “…waiting since the moment I saw you, waiting to have you…”

You look into that face, the way he just wants you, pouring his desire out over you, and you are ready to drown in it. “And I want you to have me,” you murmur, a coy, nervous smile dancing on your lips. Hells, you probably look like some innocent little thing. “I want you to have me as no one else has; Astarion…”

“Oh, you sweet little pet,” he croons, his face broadening into a smirk so soft, your stomach quivers. “Do you mean…”

“Yes,” you feel your cheeks hot under that lurid, crimson gaze. “I have never been…”

“Taken?” He offers. “Deflowered?” he adds, a deepening to his grin. “Fucked?”

Oh, it’s not that he’s a vampire spawn that makes him gaze at you with a voracious look in his eyes. It only makes you blush bright red and hot in reply.

“I am… touched to be offered such a gift,” he continues in that thick, honeyed voice, clasping your hands both in his. As he raises them to his lips, you are pulled even closer. Your body tingling to feel his frame, his magnificent form, just barely brushing you. “I am a bit surprised, given how forward you are… how wayward…”

“Perhaps it’s just a good fit, you and I…” you force your voice to lilt, keeping your eyes soft as you meet that insatiable stare. Your heart leaps as he licks his lips, making your hand reach to trace over his chest.

“Mmm, I will make certain it is. This gift, to be the first to know your body… it is one I will cherish… and I’ll make absolute certain you will cherish it too, darling,” his smile is breathtaking, almost as much as the way his own fingers wrap tenderly around your cheek, drawing your face into his so closely, his breath becomes your own.

Slowly he bears his teeth, his gaze raking down your neck into the v cut of your tunic. “Tell me, darling, how long have you been dreaming of this with me, fantasizing our time together as you pleasure yourself…”

Your brow quirks as you struggle to find the meaning of such a sensuous phrase.

“Oh…” he croons, the caressing touch of his hands cresting over your shoulders and drawing down your back. Your confusion ignites a new level of anticipation in him, you can see it twisting over those immaculate, pale features. Then he pulls you flush against him. ��You will enjoy tonight, I am sure of it. I will too, there is nothing sweeter, I’m sure, than your first blood, your virgin blood…”

You melt at his words, trembling even before his kiss falls to consume your lips. His fingers are so deft, dexterous and featherlight as they tug the rough linen of your shirt up your body. Bunching it. Letting the night air kiss your skin little by little.

And all the while, his lips work smoothly on yours. Nothing so fast and quick as his bites. No, this is deliberate, controlled. A rhythmic dance that traps you against him and draws you closer.

Before you know it, he breaks from that caress to pull your shirt off completely. You gasp, cheeks hot as he looks you over, the gleam in his eye predacious as he scans your breasts, your skin, drawing his gaze to the band of your breeches.

Those eager lips begin to stray from your mouth, allowing you to finally gasp in the free air. But it’s still a fight, the way your body trembles as he kisses the lingering bite marks on your neck from the other night… drifting even lower to the edge of your collarbone, his breath so cool on your hot and flushed skin.

A moan escapes you, a noise you had never made before. And it makes the vampire chuckle, his lips creeping even lower as he cranes his head. His hands catching your breasts, one in each persistent palm. He massages them, fingertips sweeping over your straining nipples.

Those lips and that tongue replace one set of dexterous fingers, making the same sounds issue from your throat again. Louder. Your body wriggling as it catches on fire, like magma seeping from the earth, it boils in your veins and pools between your thighs.

He’s suckling on you, your hands shaking as you long for them to touch him too, running them into his hair. With a sharp breath, he releases one breast only to rub his tongue through the valley of your chest to trap the other one. Worshiping it with equal zeal.

Gods, you feel strange beneath your navel. Full and hot and swollen. And then, another sensation hits you as you shift on your toes.

You’re… wet. Your breeches are soaked. And it makes you shift again, more uncertain.

“You feel it, can’t you?” he raps as he lifts his head, raising to his full height to look down at you. “The way your body has awoken. You stir, and crave something.” The corner of his mouth quirks just once. “Poor little sweet thing, I promise you, you’ll like what’s coming. It’ll make it all feel better.”

Those fingers, so quick and light, pull the laces of your breeches apart before you even know what’s happening. “May I?” he whispers, running two fingers up the inside of your thigh. “You’ll need these removed, you know…”

You nod vigorously, a giggle in your throat as he grins, that glint of his teeth just peeking from his lips. But he doesn’t pull the fabric from your skin. No, he slides those fingers harder into the soft buckskin over your thighs. Then, he steals their pressure between your legs. His brows canting to feel you where you’re soaked. “My, my…” he purrs, “this will be most enjoyable. Your body already knows just what to do,” his lips twitch as he presses them against your lips again, “and so do I.”

Boldness sweeps through you, assured that you have chosen well. He will make this blissful. Make you feel like the sweet treasure you are to him.

Agonizingly slow, he strokes you there, those fingers so eager for action in the field turn all their talents now to teasing your body. You turn away, unsure as he caresses where you’re wet.

“Don’t be shy with me, darling,” he whispers, “you’re doing so wonderfully, you know.” Those hands pull your breeches down, letting them settle at your ankles. “Here,” he breathes as he grabs your hand where it still presses on the smooth coolness of his chest. “You’ll let me show you, won’t you?”

With how silken, how assured and pleased he sounds, you can’t manage a breath in reply. Only a nod and a moan as those damp fingers take your hand. He molds you to his grasp, guiding your fingers into your own arousal. It’s slippery, hot… and then your hands now slip between your folds…

You moan so loudly, your thighs shaking as he presses your fingers deeper into you.

“There now,” he purrs, lips caressing against the curve of your ear. “So wet and slick, you’re a wonder, my sweet little virgin. Your body’s already eager for me, and you don’t even know it yet.”

“Please,” you raps, pulling your hands back towards the apex of your thighs. “Show me.”

“I’ll do so much more than that, darling…”

It’s so quick, the way he’s picked you up in his arms to lay you down in the soft grass. In an instant, he’s shuffled off your breeches, the air wafting over your body, completely bared and entirely hot despite the little breezes of night.

Astarion draws his body to cover yours, so slowly, controlled, as if he plans every little graze of his skin across yours. “Sweet little thing,” he croons as he traps your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “You’re all mine aren’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, the feeling of his body lowering all its weight on you, sending shivers down your spine and sparks over your vision. “All yours…” you moan between his full and twitching lips.

“I do so love the sound of that, darling…” With one last little peck on your lips, he begins caressing your body, kissing and sucking your breasts once more before trailing down over your belly. It rises and falls with every heaving, nervous breath you take. “Don’t you worry,” he whispers, “the more you give in to how I’ll make you feel, the more delicious this will be.” He catches your hand again in his to slink it back where you are on absolute fire. That slick between your legs. “Now, close your eyes, and just touch…”

He brings your hands to your folds, dipping your fingertips within. So wet and soft and hot, swollen you can tell, as he draws your fingers at the crest of your folds. “There,” he presses, the little nub beneath your touch so hard, the contact instantly making your muscles clench and burn. “Should the need arise as you think of me, as you remember tonight, as you wait eagerly for the next time you come to my bed… you can touch yourself here for your own pleasure, darling…”

Your body takes over, the rhythmic tracing of his fingers guiding yours… it’s sorcery. Magic. Like fire and ice in your veins as he circles your fingers and his over that little hard bud. You flutter your eyes open, watching as he stares at you, his gaze catching yours with all the hunger and pride and desire you could wish to see. Then, those perfect lips twitch in a mischievous smirk. Already crouching between your legs, he’s licking his lips, lowering his head towards your body as his fingers still tug at you unrelentingly.

So cool and wet, you feel his tongue lapping along with your fingers. Your hips buck out of your control, muscles clenching as one possessed, but it is not in pain. It is flame and ruin and ecstasy that flood along your muscles. Spurred on by his kissing and sucking and lapping between your thighs.

That feeling crashes through you, blinding you as your back arches, your scream tearing from your throat as you writhe and spasm. Your hand goes limp between your legs as you pant.

With a laugh, he places a kiss on your soaking palm before resting it tenderly on your panting belly. His tongue laps up your seam, you can feel the flush of that slick cooling in the breeze and drying on your skin. “Oh my sweet,” he rasps, glancing from between your thighs. “You are doing so well, such pleasure for your first time,” he giggles, “don’t let it go to your head. The best is yet to come…”

You mewl, his two dexterous fingers finding their way inside you now, playing in and out. Instantly, that need reignites, consuming your flesh. Your hands reach for him… for any part of him. You find his arm, his own muscles bunched and bulging as you feel him working inside you. You feel him shifting lower, kissing the sticky skin of your inner thigh, his hand slipping another long finger inside your walls, making your muscles burn as they stretch. “Shhh,” he soothes as you groan and pant and squirm at the pressure. “You’re such a good girl, so wet and eager, this will be delicious. I doubt you will even bleed once I’m inside you…”

He chuckles, watching your body, your eyes wide and wild as that wave begins to wash over you again… the heat, the throes of pleasure you now realize come from his touch. And then he slips his thumb back over that aching little nub again.

“Gods, Astarion,” you keen, your voice rough as you tear apart. Those fingers inside you… your whole body clenches on them, the pressure, the fullness sending you careening into your climax even harder this time. Breathless, you can only make little incoherent sounds, a little louder as he insists on still pumping his touch inside you even as you come.

“Breathe, my sweet,” he smiles, “you’re going to do wonderfully.”

The chill of his touch, his whole body leaves you for a moment. But you can’t look, can’t even open your eyes as you still drift down from your pleasure.

You feel stretched and limp and warm… the gentle embrace of bliss and pleasure you had heard ballads about. You rise up on your arms, and for a moment, that warm comfort runs cold in your veins.

You see him. Naked. Breeches removed as he strokes his cock in his hand. Looking down at you where he stands. Those crimson eyes almost glow in the moonlight. But you barely glance into his face, knowing it’s hungry and needy and salacious.

No, your eyes are mesmerized by his length, so much longer than you had thought, erect and pale. You watch it twitch as he rubs himself slowly. “Shhh,” he soothes from above you, “come here, my darling. I promise you it will only hurt a bit…”

You sweep your legs beneath you, kneeling before him. His fingers caress your face. He takes a deep breath, his belly filling as his cock twitches to see you so close. “Touch me,” he whispers the instruction, your hands joining his as you feel him. So hard, smooth skin stretched over something so unyielding. Etched with pale veins that darken slightly beneath his already pale skin… you run your fingers over it as his own hand stills near its base.

Sweeping your thumb over that thick, blunted head, you make him groan. “Good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with lust in his throat. “Soon, my pet, I’ll teach you to pleasure me in return, but tonight…” he breathes heavily, dropping to his knees with you, “tonight is about your pleasure, your deflowering as I claim your innocence my sweet.” His lips twitch, “which I am most eager to do… a gift I am forever thankful for…”

His eyes glint with intent, possession and pride, his mouth descending to capture yours again. Those powerful arms hug you tightly to his chest, that hardened cock prodding into your belly, twitching each time your mouth moves with the rhythm of his kiss.

Slowly, he lays you back into the grass, those arms that have snapped your enemies in half cradling you gently against his body. One hand slides between you, ghosting that chilling touch between your thighs, the other presses your cheek in his palm, keeping your lips trapped against his.

Then, you feel it, something thicker and harder pressing into that still molten slick between your legs. Inch by inch, he enters you, the roll of his hips against yours almost imperceptible. “Shh,” he hushes you, another caress of those full lips against yours. “You’re so good, darling…”

A bit more, your muscles burn as he slides, that slick coating him, letting his cock inside you little by little. You groan, your muscles clenching at the thickness. And he only laughs and shushes you again. “Easy now, darling, I promise. Those stories of virgins bleeding are only with bad lovers, but I will only ever make you bleed in other ways, other… more delicious ways….” He catches your lower lip in his fangs and bites down, a little nip as pain shoots through you. You groan… hardly noticing that in that moment, he’s sheathed himself between your thighs completely.

Buried deep in your throbbing channel.

“Hells below…” you groan, a wriggle of your hips as you feel the pressure easing. Burning and not in pain. That same sort that consumed you already, only now… all the stronger. “Astarion,” you look into his eyes, how they smile at you, narrowed and delighting.

“I told you darling,” he purrs, a slight movement of his hips, dragging that cock a bit out, a bit in as your mouth hangs open, “I told you I would make certain we are a good fit…”

You groan, not at his words, at the way he begins to thrust into you. Slowly, consistently, letting your body open to accept him. His mouth still hovers over yours, his breath filling your mouth, the taste of your blood still on your tongue and his as he catches it in his kiss.

“Gods,” he groans as your body begins that journey higher, driven by every thrust inside you, the heat multiplying, the clenching of your every muscle catching all the more on him inside you. “You tight, little, innocent thing…” he pants, “you’re going to be the ruin of me.” You feel his lips twisting, smirking against you, his breath coming heavily now too. His arms on either side of you shake, those hips, his body, driving into you faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, your own instincts taking hold, wanting him deeper, wanting more of him thrusting inside.

He groans as he slides to fill you completely, “Good girl,” he purrs his praises again into your mouth. Groans and thrusts consume you, the slide of his body on yours transports you… until you feel nothing that is not him.

It takes you, that press of his hips, that drag of his cock between your walls, you spill into that climax, the oblivion of twitching heat. Your mouth hanging open to keen. His cock pulls all the harder as your body clenches. Hitching, fucking, slamming with everything he’s got inside you, until he’s groaning too, gasping and whsipering in silken tones just how good you are… how tight and perfect….

You feel him inside you, gripped so hard, pulsing as that slick drips from inside. His hands cradle your cheek again, the full weight of his body lowering, blanketing you, pressing you into the earth. “See… wonderful…” he pants, another kiss against your lips, longer, tender. “Something to cherish between us forever…”

He slips from inside you, making you arch and groan at the release. Your thighs shake, even as he lowers to lay beside you, rolling you to lay in his arms. To rest your head in the crook of his shoulder.

A single finger traces your neck, his head lifting to look down your body beside him. “You see, sweet thing, not a drop of blood… well,” he chuckles, “not yet anyway.” Those smirking lips caress over the throbbing vein in your neck. “I would so love a drink of your not-so-virgin blood now…”

“Yes,” you tilt your head, your voice is sultry, heavy in your throat as you keep your eyes meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. “And then, can we… again?”

His brows raise, delighted, genuine surprise lifting those sharp features of his handsome face. “I would love nothing more,” he croons. “So addicted to me already are you?” A single laugh punctuates his words. “Perhaps this worked out better than I could have imagined,” he speaks, almost to himself, that devious, desirous smirk on his lips for a moment before his fangs bite into your skin.

Drawing that first, no-longer- virgin blood.

[risuola]

ENTRY #14 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // You taught me to feel and it overwhelmed me.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nsfw, virgin!reader, reader discretion is advised — wc. 4224

a/n: this series is my baby, i love it so much so please don't mind me posting for it so often, but here goes the long awaited smut entry — enjoy!

series masterlist

It’s beautiful.

Despite the clouds, the sky still hints some pinks; the orange hues of sunset peeking through the grey fluffy layers that sparsely canopied above, a tell-tale of late hours and looming night. The air is warm and humid, thick with scent of grass and dew and somewhere, far in the distance, a thunder rumble. And then, warm, summer mist of raindrops starts to fall — cool and refreshing, a pleasant relief from the sweltering heat. It feels calm, soothing as the smell of rain makes its way up the atmosphere.

Or maybe it’s you.

You’re there, basking in the serene atmosphere and Satoru thinks you’ll get sick from it, but he doesn’t stop you. You are too beautiful. Smiling and spreading your arms, reaching your face up towards the sky and he watches you, allows you the relief, allows himself to commit the picture of you to memory.

Thin fabric of your dress clings to your body; peaks of hair stick to your forehead and neck but you seem so careless, so happy — he envies you, he envies those strands, he envies the cotton. Your feet are bare, shoes long gone as you stroll through the green meadow, as if all the care of the world had suddenly disappeared. The meeting you’ve both been on just hours ago forgotten, now it’s you and him in the middle of nowhere.

You notice him staring, he’s way too obvious, but you smile at him and he forgets about the world around. “Turn it off,” you speak softly, your voice like silk, and you reach your hands up to cup his dry face.

For a moment, he looks at you, studies you — the way raindrops cling to your skin, to your eyelashes; how they trace the curves of your cheeks and nose, only to drip from the tip of it. He follows the one that makes it lower, languidly running down your cupid’s bow and onto your lips and then, he leans in, kissing it away and letting go of everything but you.

Raindrops are pitter-pattering against his skin and it’s foreign. Clothes grow heavier and goosebumps scatter across his form, but Gojo isn’t entirely sure if it’s because of the rain running down his spine or you in his arms. Maybe it’s you; your fingers teasing at the nape of his neck, nails running through the undercut and your body pressed to his own, your mouth against his mouth.

His eager tongue darts out, seeking permission at the seam of your lips and you part them, allowing him in. The kiss deepens into a tango of passion; an addicting kind of dance that ignites a fire within him and the cool drizzle no longer feels refreshing. Taste of rain mingles with the sweet flavor of you and Satoru’s heart is pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of raindrops pelting your bodies. Your clothes are soaked, but neither of you seem to mind as you pull yourselves closer.

He wraps his arms around you, tracing the shapes of your hips and back. The warmth of your body pressed into his chest is contrasting vividly with the cold shower from heavens and he craves more. His breath catches in his throat as you reach to unbutton his jacket, your dainty fingers dealing swiftly with the gold button and the zipper — then you pull it off and he lets you, following your movements like an obedient puppy he sheds the outer layer only to have your hands run across his bare skin. The short sleeve sticks to his frame, cotton losing its softness and he feels the sprinkle hitting his back, his arms and neck. It’s running down his body, trickling his muscles and making him shiver in nothing but anticipation.

He grips the fabric of your dress; nervous fingers searching for the zipper and he feels you smiling against his lips. Then you pull, cause him to bend, to sink onto the wet grass and he’s got you on top of his lap. You swallow the gasp that left his mouth and he’s too eager to break the kiss, burning with want and losing his mind over the feel of your weight resting on him.

You’re smiling, panting but not missing a beat in the way you touch him. You explore his shoulders, his back and chest. His needy hands are gripping your sides, running up and down your back as they inch towards the fastener lined with your spine and you moved, tracing his jawline with kisses, savoring the whimpers that barely stand out over the monotonous buzzing of the rain and soft swooshes of wind dancing in the foliage. You kiss his neck, nip at the sensitive spots, discovering them along the way and then, you tug at his t-shirt to reach more of his collarbone and shoulder.

Satoru pulls at the zipper, too harsh, too desperate, but you don’t mind. Your frame shakes gently with giggle and he chuckles too. He loves you. It’s a thought that pops up in his mind for a while now, he loves your smile, your laugh, your taste. You had become a center to his universe, your orbit the only one he wished to follow. Is it weakness? He doesn’t feel weak.

He’s eager, pulling at your sleeves, pushing the fabric of your dress down, crimpling it at your waist and the sight takes his breath away. You’re gorgeous like this, soaked wet and with water trickling down the ups and hollows of your figure, the valley between your breasts, the tender flesh of your stomach and the curve of your hips. The bra you have on, made of nothing but lace, clings to your skin; the crowded pattern of it taunting him with the peek of what’s below and he takes a moment to just admire as he swallows thickly. A knot forms in his throat and stomach and he feels hot, mustering the power within him to gently brush away the wet strands of hair that glued themselves to your collarbones and neck. He swallows again. He’s nervous.

Your eyes flicker to his lips and they’re parted. His breath hitches and you inhale, leaning in and kissing him again. His hands are wandering, exploring your flesh, absorbing the warmth and gliding over your rain-soaked curves. He kisses you — with passion, with need and you feel yourself trembling in his hold. You love him — his eyes, the way he cares, his taste.

You feel his fingers dancing near the clasp of your bra, struggling with it, shaking. He manages to do it, to unhook it and you move your hands away from his hair to let him slip it off. Satoru’s impatient, he tugs his own t-shirt off as you barely pull it up and then, his strong arms are wrapped around your middle, pulling you flush to him. Skin touched the skin and he forgot how to breathe.

Then, you’re down, your back on the grass and he’s right above you. He gasps, allowing his eyes to run down your frame because you are a sight to admire — with your wet hair scattered around your head and your half-bare body glistening from water, surrounded by green glass and delicate flowers. They wished to have your charm. You blush underneath his gaze, warmth spreading across your cheeks and the tips of your ears but you keep smiling, keep panting. He wants more.

Satoru leans in, kissing your lips, your chin and down your neck. Raindrops are drumming against the expanse of his back as he hovers above you, kissing you, tasting you. He presses his nose against your skin, inhales you — the subtle mixture of your natural scent and the perfume you always wear makes him dizzy and he licks you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin ever so gently, sucking little red spots all over you as the reminder that you gave him what he finds the most valuable in the world — yourself.

He wants everything, he craves everything and you’re willing to give it to him. One of his hands run up the curve of your hip, his thumb brushing the underside of your left breast — a silent plea for permission to go higher and you purr, he feels it under his cheek and his nose. A soft groan escapes his mouth as he feels the soft flesh of your chest, both under his palm and his lips and you whimper when his tongue flicks against your nipple; the hot muscle a stark contrast to the cold rain on your skin and you bury your fingers into his hair, finding purchase in the wet, white strands.

Satoru feels like he’s starving and only you can ease his hunger. He licks the raindrops off your body, tease the sensitive spots and nips. You are a feast he cannot get enough of; his tongue twirls and flicks, his teeth grazing your nipple as he latches onto it, kissing and suckling the bud and skin around it, making it red and swollen — all while his hand finds the other one. He cups your breast, his thumb brush around the nipple and he’s rolling it between his pads, tweaking and tugging at the sensitive peak. He’s lost in the taste of you, the feel of your skin under his tongue. He groans against you, sending vibrations through your body and you gasp aloud from the intoxicating pleasure of his touch.

You’re a putty in his hands, soft and pliable, responsive to his whims and he can hear your heart drumming below the cage of your ribs, echoing through your sternum as he presses a searing line of kisses along it. Then he trails lower, reaches your stomach, follows the curves and edges, and leaves his marks here and there — each of them causing those tiny sounds to leave your mouth. Satoru loves the melody.

He reaches the layers of your gathered dress that pool around your hips and tugs at it and you raise your hips off the ground to help him. Satoru groans at the sight of your underwear, a simple cotton adorned with the same lace that your bra was made from, now soaked wet and translucent against your complexion. The sight is teasing, taunting and he’s still hungry.

The kisses he leaves on your thighs burn, sending waves of heat throughout your body. There’s lava inside your veins, reaching up the very tips of your frame. You feel admired, worshipped by the god himself, you feel loved. Desired. You’re hot, feverish, the excitement is bubbling inside your chest and pooling below your stomach; narrowing your thoughts only to the man that kisses your ankles as if you were a goddess he wished to devote himself to.

“You are so beautiful,” he voices his thoughts, the only ones he has right now. “I need you, my god, I need you more than air.”

“I’m yours,” and he’s hooking his fingers at the band of your panties, tugging them off, tossing them away — the soft lace gets lost in the tall grass but he doesn’t care. He’s gentle with you when he pulls you closer, when he runs his palms up your inner thighs, when he leans in and kisses the most intimate parts of you. Your back arches and your head fall back; a soft, quiet moan slips through your parted lips when his tongue finds where you need him the most.

The first lick has him moaning, his tongue parting your sensitive folds and running up between them until he reaches your clit and you’re twitching beneath him. Satoru’s messy about it, sloppily slurping and licking, sucking and teasing. He’s making out with your pussy, wetly lapping at your puffy bundle and setting your nerves alight, making you squirm against the wet grass and even the downpour isn’t enough to cool you down anymore. You’re seething, whimpering, writhing in his grasp and he holds you firmly — one hand set around your thigh, the pads of his fingers digging into your plump flesh, and the other ghosting at your entrance, spreading the slick and saliva all over your pretty pussy. He could stay there.

Gojo’s deliberate when he eases his way into you, sinking his long digit in slowly and he begins to move, soon finding the rhythm that matches his oral ministrations. You’re so tight, so responsive, so delicious. He’s addicted.

“Feels good?” He asks, panting and kissing your trembling thigh, pressing his cheek to the plush of it. His cerulean blue eyes, lidded with heat and desire, search for yours and he smiles, seeing you so hazed.

He looks ethereal — with his hair down and wet, messily brushed back and with few loose strands stuck to his damp forehead. His lips are glossed with saliva and your juices, so red and swollen, you wish to kiss them, to bite them. Drops of rain are running down his cheeks, he looks like an angel crying. You want to worship him.

“S’good,” you reply, the sound barely leaving your mouth in a coherent way before you’re moaning again. The second finger slips into you and you struggle to accommodate him at first. Then, he’s back at the supper, his tongue working overtime at your swollen clit, flattening against it and twirling around, delving deeper and deeper. His hand holds onto your hip as he devours you, his fingers moving in sync, in and out, scissoring inside you, stretching you bit by bit and he curls them, searching for the spot that will send you over the edge.

“There it is,” he grins, his words muffled by the way he keeps himself nose deep into your sopping cunny. You’re arching off the ground, crying out his name, seeing stars and he’s learning your body, studying it, memorizing. He wishes to know it all and then, he hopes he’ll forget and learn it all over again.

Satoru rubs his fingers against the spongey spot inside you and your thighs tremble, close on him. He feels your muscles tensing, clamping his fingers and his name is slipping through your lips in a whiney melody that has him humming — the soft currents of vibrations go straight into your clit. He doubles the efforts, lapping at it, pressing wet kisses all over you and each time his mouth moves to find the plush flesh of your thighs, his thumb is rubbing heated circles along your folds, toying with you.

He looks up at you, watches as you come undone; all the pushes and pulls, jolts and trembles telling him that you’re close — so very close that if he only wished to, he’d push you over the edge. But he doesn’t. The pleasure stops and your chest is heaving. He swallows the moan that leaves your mouth with a wet and messy kiss, all teeth and tongue and you can taste yourself on his lips.

“I’m—so, so sorry—” he mumbles between kisses and he moves down towards the pulse on your neck. “I need to feel all of that on myself, I—” he whines, “I need you to come undone while filled with me—” His words blur against your skin, they mingle in his mouth. He’s so pussy-drunk, he can barely think. His cock is straining against his pants, aching to feel you, begging for any kind of friction and he’s close to be grinding on you. He feels like an animal in heat. Thirsty. Desperate.

You hum — whimper — and grip him suddenly, pushing him over, rolling on top of him and Satoru’s brain short circuit when the plushy weight of your ass rests on top of his aching crotch. The sight of you on him nearly makes him lose his mind — your naked, perfect body scattered so beautifully with red marks of his mouth and teeth. Every beauty mark that adorned your skin, every scar and every crease made him wonder if god worked on you himself. Your hands running up and down his chest, exploring his toned body cause his blood to boil with desire. Then you kiss him, kiss his chest, tease his nipples and he thinks he’ll implode just like that. His hips buck up, his rock-hard cock twitching, begging for any sort of friction and release and he feels the sticky precum soaking his underwear.

You move down and your fingers shake a little when you unbutton his pants. “Take your time,” he coos, rubbing the sides of your thigh despite the urge to take you then and there. Despite the need to fuck you silly, he stays gentle with you. His breath pauses and the first contact of cool air and raindrops with his cock has him moaning. And then, you wrap your fingers around him, your warm, soft palm struggling to envelop him whole, but it’s perfect to him. He’s ready to bust.

You move along his dick, thumb gliding over the slit at the top, collecting the pearls of precum and spreading them down his shaft. His veins are prominent against the pads of your hand, he’s heavy as you hold him, twitching at your touch. His abs are tensing, feet plant themselves onto the ground and you know he’s desperate. “Sweethea—haah,” he whines, his fingers dig into your thighs and you know it’ll bruise.

He looks at you and you offer him a soft smile — one that’s sincere, it’s loving and he could just melt against the green bed of nature.

And then, you move again and his mind goes blank. You stroke him again, spreading the slick all over him and then, the tip of his cock slides between your folds. You’re teasing him, not allowing him to enter just yet as you make sure your juices coat him thoroughly and he moans again. The way you roll your hips, the way your slippery pussy rubs along the side of his erection has him seeing stars. Sticky ropes of precum coat his lower belly, stretching between his skin and the tip of his cock when you’re moving. “Please, I beg yo—” he tries but words die down on his tongue when finally, finally, you sink down onto him.

It’s good, too good, it’s too much. It’s not enough.

He’s overwhelmed, his senses struggle to catch up.

There’s nothing else but you.

He reaches his hands to find purchase upon your waist, he holds onto you as you slowly nestle yourself on top of him. The sight of his cock being swallowed whole by your gummy walls for the first time is so deeply erotic, he thinks he’ll never see anything better. You’re dizzy with pleasure as you dig your nails into his skin. Satoru reaches up to cup your face, brushing soothing circles onto your cheek as he watches your features contort in discomfort — you’re new to this and he’s your first; he’s planting his feet onto the slippery grass, keeping his hips in place despite the desperate need to buck them into you. In seconds, the pain fades into nothing and your body relaxes.

He stretches you so good, so fucking good, you already feel the knots forming at the pit of your stomach. “It’s okay,” you promise, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm and kissing the heel of it. Then his hand falls back to rest on your waist; the muscles in his body ripple underneath his pale skin and he grunts lowly when you move for the first time. Your hips rolled against him and he could die like this.

“My god, you’re—” he whimpers, pulling you onto him, flush to his chest and bucking his hips upwards. His arms wrap around you, his lips find yours as he finds his pace — slow and steady first, then faster, and wetter, and deeper, “perfect,” and he kisses you, wet, sloppy, “so tight, so—“, he needs more, “I love you so much,” he whispers and you moan.

He’s leading the movements, despite being on the bottom and you let him. Your lips never leave his skin, you press your nose to the crook of his neck and your eyes are tightly shut. “I love you,” you cry out, “I lo–ve yo–“ you love him. “I love you—” you do. It’s a whisper, it’s a plea, it’s a scream. The words are shattering in your throat but you’re desperate to let them out, to let him know.

“I love you,” he echoes, his fingers digging into your flesh and he’s about to lose himself. The wet, slapping sounds of two bodies colliding bounce between the trees, it’s mingling with the melody of ecstasy and lust. He feels so good, you feel so good.

Satoru’s hips stutter, he feels his balls tightening. Your walls clench and pulsate and you bite onto his shoulder to muffle the screams when one of his hands snakes between your bodies, fingers eagerly rubbing at your throbbing, puffy clit. You’re close, you’re squirming, trying to run away, you’re so close, but he holds you. His name is all your vocabulary, he’s all your thoughts, he’s the air you breathe and the blood in your veins.

“’m s’ close,” he whines, nuzzling his nose into your wet hair, “w–where—?”

“Inside, you can com—aah,” you cannot take it any longer and Satoru moans loudly. He pulls your head to look at you, he wants to see your face. Your walls tighten as you come, pushing him out and sucking him in at the same time, milking him for all he’s worth and he feels your juices coating him in a sticky layer of filth. A thick, white ring of cream gathers at the base of his cock and he’s soon coming as well — his moves are rushed, erratic; hot torrents of seed sprouting deep inside your tight canal as he pumps it deeper, coating your insides with white, filling you to the brim and overflowing.

Your eyes are glazed with tears and his are not better. Your breaths mingle as he kisses you — slowly, messily, nearly missing your lips. His head falls back, white hair spread against the grass and you relax on him as the final stutters of his hips calm down.

Satoru has never felt as much as right now.

No infinity, no barriers.

Just him and the wet grass tickling his shoulders, his nape, his cheeks, and hips. The rain drumming gently against his skin, cold on his hot body. The wind, ghosting over him and then you.

You.

Your breath fanning his sensitive neck, your nose nuzzling somewhere beneath his jawline. Your weight resting on top of him — comfortable, relaxed, perfect. Your hands on his body, your skin pressed to his skin.

He has never felt so much.

And he loves you.

He has never loved anyone that much.

-------------------------------------------

♡ EXTRA ♡

You giggle softly and his mouth is curved into a sheepish smile. You didn’t expect this when pulling him onto the vibrant green grass, you truly didn’t see that coming but here you are — your hands buried within his hair, lathering the third round of shampoo and you massage his scalp, brushing your fingers through the once pristine white strands, now scattered in green-ish stains.

Satoru’s lips are glued to your skin, pressing gentle kisses all over your neck and chest and he doesn’t care about his hair. In fact, he’s grateful for the incident because it allowed him to have you there longer — in a hot bath that you both agreed that you needed after spending so much time in cool rain and on the wet ground. You’re on his lap, the soapy foam is running down the curves of your body and you try to wash his hair, to bring it back to its usual snowy shade and he’s sure you’ll manage to do so.

His hands run up and down your hips, trace the line of your spine and he loves his place in between your breasts. It’s warm and soft, it’s close to your heartbeat. “How is it going?” He asks, though he doesn’t care. Your fingers rubbing his scalp feel heavenly, he wishes the green is still there.

“Let’s see,” but you’re serious about it as you tug at the strands just enough to prompt him to tilt his head back and you grab the showerhead, beginning to slowly rinse the lather off. He watches you, the focus on your beautiful face, the adorable pout on your lips and the joyful glimmer in your eyes. You’re gentle with him, not a drop of shampoo or water reaches his eyes and he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. “There we go,” your face breaks into a grin, “white like new, no more green spots,” you seem proud of your achievement and he’s proud of you.

He hums in response and your eyes flicker to him; you lean in and kiss the very tip of his nose. In few moments his hair is covered in conditioner and you slowly allow yourself to sink under the surface of warm water, resting your head on your husband’s peck and nestling into the strong embrace of his arms. His lips press to the top of your head.

It’s a dream. It must be.

And if it is, he doesn’t want to wake up.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe @fortunatelyfurrygiver @lolita-h @sweetpo1son

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife pregnant!reader? Hw was reluctant to go to work because he was worried about his pregnant wife. When he was leaving he kept leaving quick pecks on her lips, but ended up pulling her back for more, which could go on for hours if one of the doesn’t finally pull away. She eventually breaks them apart so he isn't late to work. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :)))

Sure thing here you go 🤗 By the way I think I'm going to write for other teams/drivers as well... for other team principles, I'm not so sure about it! So if you have any requests about other drivers just let me know 🙌🏻 FOR NOW ENJOY THIS.

Toto was getting ready for work, his mind filled with thoughts about his pregnant wife. He knew he had to leave for work soon, but he didn't want to leave her behind. As he was packing his bag, his wife came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Toto turned to face her, a small smile spreading across his lips as he looked into her eyes. Without a word, he leaned down and planted a quick peck on her lips, but he couldn't help but linger for a few moments longer. As Toto pulled away, he saw a contented look on his wife's face. She smiled back at him, their eyes locked in unspoken understanding. He knew he had to leave for work, but he couldn't resist planting another quick kiss on her lips. Again, he planned to pull away quickly, but the feel of her soft, warm lips under his was too intoxicating. He found himself lingering again, his arm wrapping around her waist as their kiss deepened. The kiss grew more passionate, their bodies pressing closer together. Toto's hands roamed over his wife's pregnant belly, cherishing the life growing inside her. He knew he had to break the kiss soon, but he couldn't pull away just yet. When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. "You're going to be late for work," She said while panting heavily after the kiss. "It's ok, I'm the boss, remember." They're both laughing at his words as her hands slowly smooth his collar. "Seriously, go, Toto."

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her and finished packing his bag, but not before planting one last kiss on her lips. Toto watched as his wife leaned against the wall, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen from their kiss. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he looked at her. He knew he had to leave for work, but he couldn't stop thinking about her as he made his way to the car. As he sat inside the car, his mind kept wandering back to the kiss they had shared. He couldn't believe that even after all these years, kissing her still felt just as amazing as the first time.

Hours later, Toto was still thinking about his wife as he sat at a meeting. His mind kept wandering back to that last kiss, and how her lips had tasted and felt under his. He found it hard to focus on the important business they were discussing, and the reports in front of him seemed to blur together. He knew he had to get through this day and that he would see her again soon, but all he wanted to do was go home and kiss her again.

As the day wore on, Toto grew more and more restless. He found himself sneaking glances at his phone, hoping for a message from his wife. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had left something unfinished between them that morning, and he was desperate to feel her lips against his again. Finally, the day ended and he made his way back home. As he opened the front door, he immediately looked for his wife, eager to pull her into his arms and kiss her. As Toto walked through the door, he saw his wife sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, setting her phone aside. Toto crossed the room quickly, his eyes fixed on her. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, feeling her soft body against his. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, and then leaned down and found her lips with his own. As their lips met, Toto felt a wave of desire wash over him. He had missed her all day, and now that he had her in his arms again, he wanted to devour her. He deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, eagerly exploring every inch of her. His hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves and pulling her closer to him. As Toto broke the kiss and they pulled apart slightly, his wife looked up at him with a soft smile. "I missed you," she said, her voice filled with tenderness. "And I've been waiting for that kiss all day."

Toto chuckled, his hands still resting on her waist. "Have you, now?" he teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Were you thinking about me all day, Schatz?” "Of course I was," she replied, her eyes locked on his. "How could I not think about you when you left me wanting in the morning?" She pouted playfully, her bottom lip jutting out slightly. Toto chuckled again, feeling his heart swell at the expression on her face. "I'm sorry for leaving you wanting," he said, ducking his head to plant soft kisses along her jawline. "You know I couldn't help myself this morning. You're just so beautiful, especially now that you're pregnant." “Do you still want me now?” She asked quietly almost like a whisper. “I will always want you. Then, now, and forever” he said huskily.

[doraminatook]

We're About To Get Playfully Blasphemous Here (or...The Metaphorical Death and Resurrection of Me)

2023 was the year I turned 33, and in case you didn’t know, many religious scholars cite that as the age Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead.  Now, within literature there’s a trope called the Christ-like figure in which a character sacrifices themself and from that death, something happens in order to advance the plot.  Usually that something is either the “dead” character rising from the ashes and obtaining new powers (think Gandalf the Grey battling the Balrog and then coming back as Gandalf the White) or the protagonist being so moved by the death of this secondary character that they are reborn in some way (think Red Badge of Courage’s Jim Conklin (JC…get it?) whose death changes Henry’s opinion on war.)

Because I’m a storyteller and have a dark sense of humor, I began to wonder if I would somehow have a Christ-like-figure-moment within my thirty-third year of life.  (Not long after my birthday, I told my mom that I just had to make it to 34 and then I would have “beaten” Jesus; being a good Lutheran woman, she did not appreciate this joke.)

Now, I may be reaching or forcing figurative imagery into the literal world (isn’t that what artists do?), but I think I did have a “death” and consequential “resurrection”.  

I’m at a strange place in my writing career in that I am not famous (by any means) but I’m also not considered emerging.  Recently, I was told by a theater that I should “sit this contest out” and give someone else a chance but at the same time my work has not been produced enough to catch an agent’s eye.  (It doesn’t help that theatre companies have an intense fixation on world premieres.  They want to be the first one to do the show, apparently assuming that as soon as a piece gets produced once, that means it’s finished.  But that’s a rant for another day.) 

Currently I live in Milwaukee and for a long time I thought (or at least hoped) that I could maybe just make it work here; it is technically a theater town.  Add to that the fact that my whole family lives in Wisconsin, my financial situation was not ideal, and my best friend (platonic soulmate) had made it fairly clear to me that she did not wish to move away from Milwaukee.  When I was honest with myself, I knew that I wanted to get out, but there were so many things holding me back from making the jump.  

As soon as the thought of moving away entered my head, Anxiety would perk up.  Always eager to be the backseat driver, it would shout things like, “Isn’t life here good enough for you?  You’ve got a roof over your head, a job that allows you to pursue your passion, and you’re perfectly healthy.  Be grateful for what you have and stop expecting something more!” 

I attended a workshop for other playwrights from the area and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I didn’t have a lot in common with many of them.  Discussions and questions whirled around about how we find time to write, where we get inspiration, and how we format a script properly.  Some of the writers present had never even finished a full script.  I certainly am not bringing this up in order to shame anyone, but it was an eye-opening experience for me.  Was I a proverbial big fish in a little pond?

My anxiety had an opinion for that, too.  

“Wow!  Way to be egotistical, D!  You think you’re so much better than everyone here?  Get over yourself!  You’re not special.  You’re just another ‘artist’ who thinks they’ve got something special to say!”

A few weeks later I was at my cousin’s wedding and after the ceremony, he approached me to offer congratulations for all the success I’ve had…only to then immediately cut me off guard with the question, “So when are you moving to New York?”  As the groom, he was quickly called away for photographs and I never really got to answer his question.  

If this moment had been in a play, the spotlight would have hit me right then and there and I would have begun some contemplative soliloquy where I openly pondered, “New York, eh?  Maybe I should go to New York!”

Obviously, as a theatre person, the idea of moving to New York had crossed my mind; it’s the theatre capital of the US for obvious reasons.  But, at the same time, New York just didn’t feel like me.  (I have a lot of opinions on NYC, especially when it comes to the outrageous ticket prices.  When it costs a small fortune to see a Broadway show, art becomes a luxury rather than a necessity.  But that’s a rant for another day.)  It certainly seemed daunting, and every good dream should be at least a little daunting.  But New York was daunting without being exciting.  It felt like something I should do…something that was expected of me.

LA didn’t do it for me, either.  Nor Seattle.  I considered many locations, but nothing really made me sit up and take notice.  I wasn’t about to dive headfirst into debt and throw away a good thing unless it was something that truly excited me…something that was enticing enough to spark a change.  

Again, Anxiety spoke up, “Calm the fuck down, D!  New York?  Even if that is what you wanted, they’d eat you alive there!  You’re a soft midwestern girl who can’t take criticism and cries at the drop of a hat!  You really think you could handle New York or LA?  Also, the cost of living in any of those places is way more than you will ever hope to make!  Stick with Submission Helper.  Stick with the contests and the festivals.  Go back to dreaming only as big as The Milwaukee Repertory Theatre.  Sit down and shut up!”

It may have gone on like this…if not for the summer of 2023.

Close your eyes and picture it: WGA strike, Barbenheimer, The Eras Tour, OceanGate, the Grimace Birthday shake…and in the midst of it all, I was having an epiphany.  

A favorite television show of mine dropped its latest season and I eagerly pulled out the Chardonnay and the popcorn to binge it all.  The vast majority of the show takes place in London and features several actors whom I admire greatly.  Between the giggles, sobs, and various twists and turns of the emotional rollercoaster that was Season 2, something all at once occurred to me.

This is what I want.  

That’s where I want to be.  

I want to move to the United Kingdom.

Was it daunting?  Hell yeah, it was daunting.  

And it was exciting.  

It was a dream that excited me.  

It burned inside me.  

It raged.

It burned so hot that I didn’t know what to do with it.  I paced around my tiny apartment, simply stunned by the prospect of it all.  

Anxiety was in the process of drinking a quad shot espresso con panna and promptly did a spit take upon hearing this new idea.  In a frenzied panic, it bellowed, “Are you nuts?  What the hell do you think you’re doing?  YOU can’t move to the UK!  It would be so difficult!  You’d need to apply for a Visa…or something like that!  Do you even know how to apply for a Visa!”  

“No,” I metaphorically replied, “but I could learn.”

“I bet it’s super difficult!” Anxiety shot back, trembling in fear, “I bet it’s expensive and complicated and you’ll never figure it out!  I bet your sense of humor wouldn’t translate!  I bet you’d end up broke and living under a bridge and crying because you threw away this good thing you had!”

For a split second, Anxiety almost won…but somehow, prompted by the promise of this new dream, I dared to ask, “But what if it worked out?  What if I could figure it out?  What if I somehow scraped up the money and did the research and filed the paperwork and just made it work?”

If it were a play, I would have been standing center stage, staring out into the audience like some kind of dramatic hero and whispering hopefully, “Yes…what if…?”  

It has been a long road to get here, but, despite what Anxiety likes to tell me, I did figure it out.  The process has been stressful enough to induce atypical Shingles and a few anxiety attacks, but it’s happening.  It’s actually happening!

This October I’m going to grad school at the University of Essex where I’ll pursue my masters degree in Scriptwriting.  I’ll hone my skills as a playwright while learning the ins and out of writing for film, television, and radio.  I’ll take the train into London on the weekends and see every show I can at the National Theatre.  I’ll get new life experiences.  I’ll do my best to explore every inch of that beautiful island.  I’m going to do something new because it’s scary and, most importantly, it’s exciting.  

(To add to the awesomeness of this new adventure, my best friend (platonic soul mate) is moving with me and pursuing her own dreams of studying acting…also at the University of Essex.)

My “death” was not as dramatic or world-changing as Jesus’s, but it gave way to a new life for me.  The power of storytelling combined with a newfound confidence was enough to catapult me into something new, something different.    

And I know you’re wondering what show I was watching that prompted this sudden change; if you know anything about me, you’ve probably guessed it already.  

Along with seeing as much theatre as I can on my visits to London, I also plan to have surreptitious meetings at The Bandstand, feed ducks some frozen peas at St. James’s Park, and maybe help avert an apocalypse (or two).  My birthday is in January and it just so happens that Season 3 is scheduled to begin filming around that time; perhaps on my winter holiday, I’ll put myself onto a train and take myself up to Edinburgh.  I have so many thoughts on what could possibly happen next to my favorite angel and demon…but that’s a rant for another day.

(Fun fact: I say this line at least once a week...if only to myself.)

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

mafia boss special | lhs.

pairings: lee heeseung x reader

synopsis: first time meeting mafia boss, heeseung.

word count: 3k

warnings: curses, foul and offensive words.

note: here you go! replies and reblogs are well encouraged. please send me asks, i love reading it. ily and stay safe!

eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.

Heeseung heaved a heavy sigh after reading the recent text from his Mother. He clicked his phone shut then rests it over his lap, throwing his head back over the couch.

“What’s with the heavy sighs, hyung?” Jay asks, chuckling while holding the cue stick. He’s waiting for his turn.

Jake glances over his hyung before taking his shot. The clicking of the balls echoes and one easily shoots earning a subtle cheer from Sunoo. They’re currently playing pool and they’ve notice their eldest friend being in distress.

“Something wrong?” Jungwon steps closer, taking the vacant seat near Heeseung.

Heeseung opens his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. “My Mom’s been bugging me about this date with the youngest daughter Choi clan.”

Sunghoon chuckles before accepting the cue stick from Jay. It’s his turn now.

“I guess Auntie’s really eager to find you a future wife, huh?” he teasingly stated before positioning himself in a much comfortable stance to take his shot.

“Its because Hyung doesn’t seem like interested on finding someone to date.” Sunoo smirks.

“My Mom doesn’t set me on dates.” Jay looked clueless as he said those words.

His friends eyed him like he just said the most hilarious thing.

“Maybe because she knew pretty well you already have enough, dude. You need to be stopped.” Jake even playfully swat him using the cue stick making them laugh.

“Hyung all you even think of is dating! Auntie is probably done with you.” Ni-ki interrupts as the mentioned boy frowned at their comments about him.

“Hey, its not my fault that girls likes me.” he even shrugs his shoulder before showing a smug smile.

The other boys groaned at him and even shower him with side comments. Heeseung smirks watching them bicker with each other. They may be from families of mafia, but Heeseung always love the way they act around one another. One reason why he loves hanging out with them, because he feels more like himself.

“Anyways, I think you should go hyung. I mean Auntie won’t stop until you obey her for once. You know they won’t force you if you said you don’t like her.” Sunoo says.

The boys agreed, nodding their heads to the eldest. He eyed him and ends up agreeing. Well, they are practically right. He knows his Mom and her capability of being passionate on things like this.

He informed her that he agrees on meeting her which brought her joy. She sets the date and told Heeseung to meet the girl this coming Saturday in one of the fancy restaurants around the city.

“Please be nice, son. Make sure to listen to her and also try to smile more, okay?” his Mom follows closely behind him as she guides him towards the car that will drive him towards the place.

She’s been doing this for a while. Reminding him to play nice and all. Giving advices on how to woo a girl. His Mom is a little worried how he may scare any potential girls around him. He’s always been a bit nonchalant and she knows some girls cannot handle that. It’s hard to harvest emotions from him. He’s pretty good on keeping his thoughts and emotions to himself.

“I will, Mom. Stop worrying, okay?” he gently assured her and dropped a quick kiss on her forehead. She smiles warmly and caress his cheeks gently, admiring him.

“I just really want you to get to know other people. I think its time for you to develop some feelings and experience love. It’s a good thing, you know?” she sounds even more eager this time that he pulls away and ready to ride his car.

He doesn’t want to hear his Mom’s rants about being in love and affectionate towards somebody. He just couldn’t imagine himself on that state. It feels like it doesn’t suit him or nobody is capable enough to make him feel those type of emotions.

As they arrive at the place, one of their men opens the door for him and he walks out confidently.

Heeseung doesn’t really have a goal for this date. He just wants to give his Mom a chance and so she can stop from bothering her about this. A few hours sitting and talking with a girl around his age won’t probably hurt, right?

The staff by the front desk doesn’t even need to ask who he is, but instead he saw how a few of them even hurry their way to assist him towards their table.

A slight irritation occupies him when he saw that it was vacant and obviously, his date is late. He’s not a very patient person and so this is not cool for him.

Instead of saying anything, he settles down and looked over the big glass window beside him. The busy street full of cars and big buildings greets him. As the night deepens, the more lights slowly appears making it look more scenery.

“Uhh,” his eyes slowly drifted towards the newly arrived and he saw this elegant girl in a pink dress. Her hair is perfectly curled and her cheekbones are highlighted in a pink tint color.

She saw how her eyes flickers amusement, lips pursing and hands starting to fix her hair and dress. He remained emotionless and just wait for what she’s about to say next.

“Hi H-Heeseung,” she greets using her sweet voice.

He stood up making their height difference evident. She cranes her neck slightly, following his eyes.

“Stella, right?” he asks that she only answered with a quick nod.

Heeseung almost snickered a chuckle while watching the pure admiration to her eyes. It was so obvious how she’s very much excited to see him. He sighs and gently pulled the chair in front of his so she can sit down. Her ears turned red, being totally affected by his gentleman gesture.

“You’re late.” he stated.

Her face flashes embarrasment, “I’m sorry! Its because of traffic.” she quickly reasons out.

He’s not being rude. Its just happen that Heeseung’s always been straightforward. He grew up being open about his opinions and thoughts and so he’s not afraid of making comments like this. Its often mistaken as being rude and aggressive, but he care less.

He just nods and kept his stares to her eyes. His face didn’t reflect any amusement or reaction for her. He admit that she’s beautiful. Model like body and her dress probably costs so much, but he’s used to these type of girls.

She gulped and quickly roamed her eyes, feeling shy because of how intense his gaze for her.

Right on time, someone walks near his table. Heeseung's pretty sure that its one of the waiters of the restaurant.

“Goodevening, Sir and Madam.”

Heeseung's eyes automatically trailed towards the girl and his brows twitched, furrowing at the sight of you. His fingers halts from tapping at the table, mouth slightly gapping.

He noticed how you’re smiling brightly towards Stella before you turned your attention at him. He pursed his lips and kept his stare.

He expects the normal reaction he usually gets from girls, but after flashing him a beautiful smile you bowed your head like how you do for Stella. He was caught off-guard.

“I’m y/n and I will assist you for tonight.” and again you smile again.

You looked so professional and not slightly brothered about him. He almost let out a laugh. Did he just got humbled? He couldn’t believe it at all.

“We like to order.” Stella clears her throat and even switches her eyes from you then to Heeseung whose eyes still fixed at you.

“Heeseung?” she tries to call him.

He kept his eyes glued at you for a few more seconds before he finally teared it away to look at Stella. She seems a bit disappointed, but he ignores and starts to scan the menu you just placed at the table.

He kept running his gaze to the menu, mind silently reading the foods but he well damn know his attention weren’t on any of them.

Because for the very first time, someone— a girl, a very beautiful one too, just caught the attention of the snobby young heir of the Lee Clan.

“I want to reserve that table.” he lazily points the last one he occupied the other day.

The receptionist looked thrilled to see him today as she slightly spaced out in astonishing handsome face of Lee Heeseung. His expression remained placid despite his eyes scanning the whole place from time to time, hoping to take a glimpse of the person he wants to see.

“F-For tonight, Sir?” she asks, couldn’t help but to stumble through her words.

He raised his other hand and gestures one of his men over. Her eyes drifted towards the tall suited man and watch as he placed a briefcase on the desk then opened it. He heard light gasps from the staffs from a distant after seeing it filled with cash.

“For as long as it covers.” Heeseung says in a monotone before sliding his hands inside his pocket.

“S-Sir?” she seems confused. This is the very first time this happened and so she’s taken aback.

“Then let me know if it over so I can reserve it again.” he added before walking towards the table.

Staffs hurries to assist him while he silently watch the view beneath him. The city lights once again slowly putting life into the busy streets.

His head whips over to the waiter who approaches.

“Menu, Sir?”

“I just want a lemonade.”

“O-Okay.” and he bows his head, about to exit himself only to be stopped by Heeseung.

“Is Miss y/n not around tonight?”

The waiter looked confused for a while before he finally answered him.

“Its almost her shift, Sir. I’m sure she will be arriving soon.”

He nods, he can feel the unfamiliar emotion taking over his system. He can feel his blood rushing, hands wanting to fidget.

‘Is he excited?’ he wonders and he wants to smirk.

“I want her to assist me tonight.” he sounded firm.

What do you expect from the youngest son of a well known mafia family? Of course he knows his power and control over the situations like this. He’s never been this happy over the influence his family holds.

Despite the surprise to the waiter's face, there's no disagreement can be seen over him. He flashes a big smile and nods his head then informa him that you will soon assist him once you’ve arrived.

On the other hand, you just stepped inside the building. Multiple curses repeated on loop inside your mind because you’re fifteen minutes late due to traffic.

“y/n!” you jolted a bit after hearing your Manager’s voice calling out your name. You just punched your biometrics over your system to log in to work.

“I’m sorry for being late! I swear its traffic and—” her grip over you comes with eagerness and delightness.

“Thank God you are here! Quick, change to your uniform!” she smiles widely and even pat your back as she guides you over to the lockers area.

Your eyes looked totally confused as to why she didn’t scold you for running late and look so happy seeing you. Your friend by the side gave you this suspicious half smile as she waves and accept a new order she’s about to serve to the customer.

“U-Uhm,” you can’t even compose a sentence when she instructs everyone to give you time to prepare yourself.

It was a complete odd behavior but you just ignored it and decided to change into your uniforms. Its actually a good thing that she didn’t got mad, that’s what matters.

After finally fixing yourself, you stepped outside and a few staffs along with your manager waits patiently outside. You looked confuse once again. Its a totally weird scenario.

“Go to table 15. You have to assist that customer all night. Make sure to give him everything he needs or want to eat. Be kind to him!” she continuously mumbled.

“W-Wait, just table 15?” because usually you are assigned with three tables.

You are thankful for having less tables to attend to, its just odd for you. Like something’s happening and you are completely not aware of it. It makes you slightly anxious.

“Yes! Go!” she pushed you gently giving you no time to react or ask anything else.

With head slightly tilted to the side you started heading towards the said table after grabbing a menu. While walking near, you noticed a familiar figure.

You can’t be wrong. That’s the same person from the other day. Who wouldn’t know him? His family is very influential. Magazines that features big and powerful clan always covers them. Specially him. Lee Heeseung, the youngest and future heir of their clan.

Even before you can approach, he cranes his neck to face you. It caught you off-guard, but you tried to keep your cool. You are trained to do that anyway. This restaurant often have famous people so you are asked to be professional and not gagged over them.

Now this. He’s totally on another level. This is not the celebrity popular type. He’s part of a mafia clan. Mafia. Very dangerous people. They are not just feared but also very well respected. Multiple rumors about them messing up people’s life after getting on their bad side circulates the whole town making it more nervewrecking for you.

You bowed with a small smile and placed the menu in front of him. His eyes didn’t even spare it a glance, instead he kept it darted at you.

‘God, he is breathtaking.’ you mutter silently inside your head. You've seen his face over magazines and pictures, but the other day you realized none of them did justice to him. He’s even more handsome in person.

“Sir? Would you like to order now?” you asked, trying not to stutter after being attacked by his godly visuals.

He tilts his head, “What took you so long?”

Your brows narrowed, “I’m sorry?”

“Your manager said that you’re running a little late that’s why you can’t assist me yet.”

“A-Ah,” you gulped and cleared your throat. “Yes, Sir. I got caught on traffic.”

He kept silent for a while. “Sit down.” he uses his chin to point the vacant seat in front of him.

“I can’t, Sir. I’m currently working.”

He raised one of his brows, amused at how quick you just declined him.

“You’re assigned to assist only me, right?”

You nodded.

“Then I want you to sit down.”

His tone sounded so stern and a bit demanding. It irritated you a little. You’ve encountered a lot of type of people. One of them are arrogant rich ones and you will be honest, you hate them the most.

“Its not part of our work duties to sit down with our customers, Sir. If you’re not yet ready to order, I will exit myself and you can call me once—”

“I want everything.” he interrupts abruptly that pisses you a bit more.

Even before you can stop yourself, your eyebrows raised a little and jaw clenching a little. You heaved a sigh and started writing his order down. You have no idea how he will finish all of it, but its his problem.

“All right, Sir. Some of the dishes will be served a few minutes since it will need time to be prepared.”

He didn’t react or even nods.

Rich spoiled kids.

You’re about to turn around when he spoke.

“I said sit down.”

“Sir, I already—”

“Just do it while I’m still being nice.” and his piercing gaze instantly sent chills over your spine.

After feeling your chest pumping so hard out of fear, you realized that you probably fucked up so bad because of how you just behaved. Panic occured you, starting to imagine the many ways he can end your life.

With slightly shakey legs, you sat down at the chair in front of him. You stayed silent and hands placed over your lap.

Heeseung almost went crazy on the spot. He liked it when you talked back to him from a while ago, but he thinks he likes you this way even more. Obedient and pretty.

“Let’s date, y/n. I like you.” he dropped like a bomb that almost made your mouth drop to the cold floor of the restaurant.

You thought the young mafia was just playing tricks on you. Like a toy he randomly finds and trying to kill his boredom, but he was true to his words.

He kept showing up to the restaurant. Sometimes he does his work there or just read some books. Most of the times he spent his night watching you work. At first it was super uncomfortable, but eventually you got used to it.

He was also making you assist him, but just ends up asking you to sit down and talk to him. You find it totally unfair so you told him that you need to work.

“You are working. And I am paying the restaurant quite well.” he brags.

One thing about him is that he’s very straightforward. He won’t hesitate to say what’s inside his mind that you completely find amazing.

You groaned, “Mr. Lee—”

“How many times do I have to say it? Just call me Heeseung.”

You want to deny it. Even how many times your friends told you that you got the handsome mafia wrapped around your fingers, you’re denial. But now, you’re starting to see it. And you’re worried. Not because he’s a very dangerous man, but because you’re starting to like it.

“Heeseung,”

His eyes flickers excitement after hearing you say his name. For the past months he’s been after you, this is the very first time you called him by his name.

He pursed his lips, trying to fight back the smile that’s about to spread across his face.

“I need to work. It will make me feel bad that I keep sitting around and my co-workers are working hard.”

His face became relaxed, “So its not because you hate me?”

Your brows narrowed. “I don’t hate you.”

Now, a smile made its way to his lips. He could not stop it anymore.

“Okay, fine. You can do your work while I wait for you.” he says in a calm tone.

You nodded, already used to the routine.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you baby.” he casually said that made you blush so hard.

You glanced away and quickly starts doing your job. It became like that ever since. There are days that he can’t go there due to personal business, but its fine. At least thats what you want to convince yourself to feel.

You got used to his presence already that you just found yourself longing for him. Looking for him all the time.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!” you panic and starts to assist the customer after spilling the drink over him. It slips off your hand because you are spacing out by thinking of Lee Heeseung too much.

“What the hell?” the anger through his eyes are evident. The people around whips their heads to watch what’s going on.

The man stood up and darted his angry eyes towards you. Some of the staff walks near to help, but it was too late. He's so mad.

“Why does this luxury restaurant hires stupid people? Do you know who I am?” he hissed at you and you’re really scared.

“I-I’m s—”

“Sorry?! Do you fucking know how much this suit cost? It probably worth than—” his hand that was about to touch you was abruptly stopped.

Your eyes widen and the place fell silent after the newly arrived person steps in front of you, covering you from that man’s wrath. His tall figure and wide back looked protective.

“Watch your fucking tone when you talk to my woman.” and there he is, Lee Heeseung. Officially claiming you for the very first time.

permanent tag-list:

@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @13tter @candewlsy @simpforniki @classicroyalty @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @ayayiiie @aeyeree @heeseung-min @in-somnias-world @psh-pjh @hveanlyanqelic

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Can’t stop thinking about slow deep passionate lovin’ with ivy. All hot and sweaty, and all that intensity. Him kissing reader so thoroughly that it leaves both of you breathless and seeing stars. God I have a problem.

Just us

You know what you will find beneath. Also, I did spiral. 😂

Look he knows how to fuck, we all can collectively shake hands on that. In my humble opinion, the most mind-boggling fucking happens on three occasions.

One, he comes back from tour or being away from you for a while and there’s just so much pent-up need and desire. It’s messy and rushed- at least till the first mutual orgasm. There are hands everywhere because he had missed every single inch of you. Every little thing that he cherishes so much. So he needs it. It’s no longer a want. It’s a need to feel you. “Just let me…”, he would pull away breathlessly, “Let me taste it all”.

Two, he gets these random horny spells out of the blue. You joke that it’s his way of ovulating. Where he literally could fuck you multiple times a day for days. No matter the amount of times he gets to cum, he’s always left semi-hard. So you get them whiny thrusts, where he’s slipping in and out of you. Slightly nudging against your entrance, letting his cock slip out and just brush between your thighs. “Let me cum inside you again”, he would grunt against your ear, “Just this one time, baby”. His lips already moving over your collarbone, nibbling at your skin. “Ivy, we just… fuck, please”, his slow needy thrusts would have you seeing starts, “I just came, bub, let me…”, “But you’re so warm, look how nice it feels”, he would pull your thighs apart, “You’re taking me with such ease baby, your pussy wants it”, and he would bottom out, making you claw at his back as you pull him closer.

Three, he’s protective alright. He’s not possessive or overstepping. But he gets jealous. Doesn’t throw a tantrum like a toddler but fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. So it’s once again back to eager hands pushing your panties to the side, as he cages you from the back against the wall. You two aren’t too big on sex in public but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Hands where I can see them”, he grunts against you, you can hear him fiddling with his belt before he pokes his cock against your entrance. “Ivy this is…”, you whine, “Did I tell you to speak? You did your talking back there already”, he spreads your thighs apart slightly, giving himself more space. “Did you enjoy that conversation with the security?”, he presses against you, making your whole body tingle. “What did you talk about, hmm?”, Ivy thrusts his hips up at a brutal pace making you let out a shameful moan. “Humor me, baby, what did you talk about?”, he urges knowing full well that the force of his thrusts has left you speechless. “I don’t uh… Ivy”, you cry out, reaching out to hold onto his thighs, “Don’t remember”, you moan, pressing your face against the wall. “Good, because this is the only thing that should be up there in your head”, he grunts, letting his handshake over your middle and down over your clit.

The true passionate lovemaking. And hold up. Let me say this. All sex with him is from love. Even if he’s rough, he knows and respects your limits. It’s a form of sex you both like so mutual satisfaction. But the soft, deep passion is saved for late nights. Maybe after a long conversation. Just lying in bed talking about absolute nonsense. It starts with slow gentle kisses and touches, slowly turning into him pushing to hover over you. You would cup his face, bringing his lips closer to yours. It’s still passionate and full of lust but it’s way slower the way he kisses you. “I love you”, Ivy would mutter, pulling away just enough so he could see your eyes. “I love you too”, you would breathe against his lips. His fingers would brush over your thighs, softly kneading your ass. Making sure every single inch of your skin had met the love from his lips. And his forehead is pressed against yours, both of you watching each other right as he lines himself up against your walls. Your fingers wrap around his bicep as he slowly nudges his way inside you. “You’re amazing”, he praises you as you struggle to not drop his gaze, biting your lip as he stretches you out. “So gorgeous, I’m so lucky”, he muses, moving your legs around his torso, loving the feeling of you instantly squeezing him closer to you, urging him to bottom out fully. After that, it’s you two chasing each other’s moans. Ivy clasps your palms together, kissing your intertwined fingers before picking up on his thrusts.

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 23 - Threesome

Some lovely Mexican boys for day 23! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were quite a few nice things to be said about having childhood friends. They kept the best secrets, knew you like the backs of their own hands, and in some cases, more intimately than others. And that was just who Rodolfo and Alejandro were to you.

It wasn’t easy at first, oh no. Especially into your teen years when Valeria came into the picture. You welcomed the new girl into your friend circle at first. Yet her eyes for Alejandro always left you feeling odd, and you really weren’t a fan of it.

You’d confided in Rudy of course, him feeling the same. The secret of your shared feelings for Al was just that between the two of you; a secret. You never thought you’d be in a position where you’d ever tell him.

So here you were, both you and Rudy feeling a bit sheepish as you stood before Alejandro, colonel of the Mexican Special Forces. You two were the man’s right and left hands, nothing was ever kept under wraps anymore. Hence, your secret being so out in the open.

“Since childhood?” Alejandro asked, voice slightly incredulous. “How did I..miss that?”

“You and Val kinda…had a thing Al,” you said quietly. You knew the man hated having his old fling brought into things, but it was essentially the truth. “We…Rodolfo and I weren’t going to get in the way of that. What friends would we be then?”

The colonel growled quietly, but accepted the truth. “Amigo,” Rudy stepped in now, breaking his best friend’s racing thoughts. “Just because we both love you…doesn’t mean it has to be a me or Y/N situation. We can…all three…” He stops in his words and flickers his gaze between the two of you. “¿No?”

You smile fondly at Rudy; he was always eager to find a compromise, something that would work for the three of you. You turn to Alejandro, a hopeful look in your eyes. The colonel sighs but eventually smiles himself.

“I cannot deny either of you, not when you back me into a corner like this,” he chuckles. You all three share a small laugh. You’re the first to stand, emboldened by the adrenaline of having a secret let out and approach Alejandro first, kissing him square on the lips. He’s a bit shocked, but kisses you back with just as much passion. 

Rudy wraps his arms around your waist, kissing the back of your head. His kisses trail down your cheek, then neck, over your shoulder. Your kisses with Alejandro deepen, earning soft groans from the both of you. 

What you don’t see is the look Rodolfo and his best friend exchange. It’s a knowing look to be sure. They’d both had conversations of situations like this with you since they were teens. Regardless of Alejandro’s loyalty to Valeria as her partner, his mind often wandered back to you.

The next few movements are a blur, but what your slowly darkening mind registers is you and your two best friends on the floor of the room. Rudy and Alejandro each have their members out, stroking them gently while you strip yourself of your pants and underwear. Two calloused fingers trail around your hole, slick with saliva before the slip inside you to prep you.

Your mouth opens to lick and suck at Rudy’s member, the heady scent and taste all but intoxicating you. Both men are cursing for different reasons, but each curse is followed up with some sort of praise thrown your way. You can feel the pressure of Alejandro slipping his own cock inside your eager entrance, moaning around the one in your mouth at the pleasure.

Never in a million years did you think you’d end up spit-roasted on the floor of the Los Vaqueros meeting room. You thought even less that it would be by your two best friends, but you weren’t at all complaining. The two had a rhythm set and they both filled you beautifully, as if your bodies were made for each other.

You can hear the sound of both Rudy and Alejandro kissing above you. What you’d kill to see it, though with the secret now out in the open, it wasn’t like this would be the last time. God you could only hope and pray to whatever deities existed that this wasn’t the last time.

The coil of pleasure in your stomach was wound so damn tight you thought you may break. The push and pull from your two best friends and the way they were beginning to lose that perfect rhythm they’d built up told you that they weren’t far behind. Dull nails gripping at your hips and the hand in your hair may also have been a tell, but you let it slide.

“Please amor, please finish inside–” you hear Rudy plead with Alejandro. “Want to feel them moan around me.” This in turn has a long groan falling down your throat to vibrate along the man’s cock in your throat. 

“Puta madre…”Alejandro growls, hips slamming into yours impossibly faster and harder. “You hear him querida, go on and come for us.” Thankfully for the both of them, you didn’t need to be told twice.

Your peak hits and you can’t help but cry out, muffled by the member in your throat. Your boys aren’t far behind as your mind absently thinks of how nice that sounds. “Your boys”, something you’d been dreaming of since you were all children. 

You don’t remember when they both pulled out, cum leaking from your lips and now empty hole. Both of them were layering on the praise like you were some sacred being that blessed them. When water coated your throat, you began to think a little more clearly.

“Do confessions usually end in threesomes, or are we just special?”

[depressopax]

Dale Cooper NSFW headcanons

Twin Peaks fandom

Pairing: Dale Cooper x gender neutral reader Genre: Smut, headcanons Warning(s): Sexual content! Reader is gender neutral Words: 1.1K Summary: Being in a relationship with Dale Cooper would include... English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 SFW version WIP Full masterlist

Dale sure has had sex before, but still he’s pretty awkward when it comes to that part of your relationship. 

Especially the first time

He was a nervous mess, and in combination with his arousal, his flushed face and how eager he was, it wasn’t really awkward, instead you found it cute.

SERVICE TOP.

He is more submissive by nature, but still likes being on top, since it gives him a slight feeling of control.

…He does love it when you guide him, telling him what pace to go in, and have you decide positions.

He prefers to have you on your back, so he can hover over you and see your sweet face as he pounds into you

He does prefer being on top of you, but also loves it when he can lay back down and have you take care of him.

Seeing you on top of him is like a wet dream to him. He has a weakness for “being taken care of” by you.

He’s loud in bed. He’s a bit ashamed of it, since he’s usually calm, but when he sleeps with you, he can’t, nor wants to control the sounds he makes. 

You love it, though. Since Dale is very calm it’s hot to see him lose it.

…Especially when he whimpers for you.

Overstimulate or edge him, and you’ll even hear him beg for you to stop or continue, cry and whimper. 

Dale’s sexdrive is not that high, but if you have a high libido, he doesn’t really complain.

He prefers long, slow and passionate love-making sessions.

That’s why he’s not a fan of quickies.

He wants to really take his time with you and have time for foreplay and aftercare

But if you insist - or if he’s really horny - he’s down for a quickie. 

His favorite place besides the bed is probably the shower.

That way, he can have sex with you in the morning, clean up and then get ready for work. 

You’re often left with hickeys after sex. Dale is not the possessive/jealous boyfriend (at least not showing signs to be), but he enjoys leaving love marks on your beautiful skin, as to show everyone that tries flirting with you that you’re in a relationship.

He is not that kinky and prefers “vanilla sex”. 

…He’s not the one to admit it, but the thought of light bondage is hot. He would love for you to tie him in bed using one of his ties. 

Maybe even blindfold him, too…

But a big NO is anything that could hurt you. It’s a turn-off

If he’s in the mood, he also spices it up with roleplays.

He’s not good at dirty talking in bed, but if you were to sext each other or talk on the phone… Damn.

Especially if you’ve been apart for too long.

He just misses you, …and your body.

He gets off to the thought of you touching yourself to his words, and hearing your sweet moans over the phone

He does have a praising kink. He likes being praised by you, especially.

Though he doesn’t show it, he’s pretty insecure - especially in bed.

So just praise him and let him know how attractive you find him 

He does the same for you, too.

He’s not shy to tell you how good it feels to be inside of you, how good you look, and how “DAMN good” you taste.

He prefers giving oral.

Once again, he’s a service top.

He loves to have you lying down on bed, moaning his name whilst you tell him what to do.

When you receive oral from him, he usually takes the opportunity to tease you, even edge or overstimulate you, as revenge for how you treat him in bed.

He can AND will spend hours between your legs.

And boyyy he knows how to use his tongue.

Of course, he loves receiving too.

He tells you “He thinks better” when you suck his dick. 

Of course, this only sounds like a lame excuse to get oral from you - but you’re more than happy to oblige.

He is the guy to just lean back with a smile whilst enjoying your lips working on his length.

Especially after a long day at work, or when he’s exhausted. 

He’s not the person to ask you right out for heads, but instead will hint until you understand what he wants, and drops to your knees for him.

He’s not very demanding when it comes to receiving, he just appreciates the fact that you want to please him.

Dale lets you do your thing while he relaxes and looks down at you with a proud smile

…But, if you do gag a bit - he’ll legit go feral.

Dale is very slow and passionate when you have sex

Also, he definitely refers to it as “making love” lol

Because that’s what it’ll feel like.

His goal during sex is to make you feel good. 

He does care about his own pleasure, of course, but he gets off to watching you receive pleasure.

He is extra proud of his hands, knowing how good he can make you feel with them. 

He doesn’t like making a mess, so when he cums, he prefers to do so in a condom.

…Or inside you, if you insist. 

But he doesn’t mind if you make a mess. 

Sure it’s annoying to “clean up”, but at the same time he likes knowing he’s the one to make you cum like that, and THAT MUCH.

Aftercare with Dale >>>>>>>

He’s always a loving boyfriend, but especially after sex.

He’ll make sure to clean you up and get you comfortable

Will ask you if you’re alright and tell you how well you did for him.

He will run you a hot bath if you need it, while he either cleans the mess the two of you made, or even joins you, if you insist.

He massages your back and plants soft kisses all over you.

But he also wants the same treatment if you’ve been rough or dominant with him.

Man is needy af after sex, in the sweetest way possible.

Just praise him by telling him he did well and that you love him etc (or why not call him good boy?) and he’ll melt and feel so appreciated.

Dale prefers to make love to you at night, since he likes to fall asleep afterwards with you in his arms.

Currently having a Dale Cooper brainrot I NEED this man in my life ong Also dying for some Dale content. PLEASE FEED ME 🙏 GOING FERAL FOR THE GIF

[silvermarley]

Could you do a Tanijro x Reader where the reader smells like someone else instead of him and he has to make her smell like him again (a lot like another one you made)

I’ll give it my best :)) it may or may not be veeeery close to the other one but I’m gonna attempt to make a difference ^^

Foreign Scent

Aged Up!Tanjiro x Reader

Warnings: hardly any plot, marking, jealousy, a bit rough, unprotected sex

Tanjiro typically doesn’t have to worry about you being around another man. He knows you’re loyal and won’t do anything.

But as soon as he got home from a long day and noticed there was another man’s scent on you, he couldn’t control himself.

He picked you up and brought you to your shared room without a word.

“Tan, what’s going o-“ you say as you landed on the bed.

He interrupted you with a passionate kiss that never fails to leave you breathless.

After a few minutes, he pulls away. “My scent.. is gone.” he murmured.

Your confusion makes him continue. “There’s an unfamiliar scent on you. Seems like I need to make sure you smell like me for a while, hm?”

“Baby-“ you attempt to say something, but he interrupted you once again, taking off your shirt and kissing you.

He isn’t typically this needy, this harsh.

His hands grab at your now exposed skin, hastily getting rid of your bra in the process.

Tanjiro only breaks away from you to mark your skin with hickeys and love bites.

You wanted to tell him the truth, but something about him being this way was making heat rise in you rapidly.

His hands moves to play with your nipples, continuing his actions. He leaves marks down your breasts, and down your stomach.

In one movement, he takes off everything else, leaving you bare to his hungry eyes.

Even in a situation like this, he won’t do anything until he preps you. His nimble fingers rub your clit, just as he marks up your thighs as well.

You moan, completely in a daze at his eagerness.

After a little bit, his fingers leave you for a second, causing you to whine. But, it wasn’t long before his mouth latches onto it and two fingers enter you.

Your back arches into him in pleasure, as he was working wonders on your body.

Your hands go to his hair, tugging on it, trying to get even a small grip of reality.

It wasn’t long before you were cumming on his tongue and fingers.

You gasp as he laps up your juices, body convulsing at the overstimulation.

He moves up, quickly discarding his clothing. You bit your lip seeing his hard cock hit his stomach.

“You ready darling?” He asks while lining himself up.

You nod, almost enthusiastically.

He is slow to insert himself in your warm walls. But, once you gave him the okay, his thrusts got harder and faster.

Your mind becomes clouded with the lustful ecstasy. He was hitting all the right spots to make you moan louder each time.

The only thing he could think was “mine..mine..”.

He was desperate to make you smell like him again. So much so, that he couldn’t stop himself from going at what seemed like an impossible pace.

He could smell his scent mixing with yours, making him dizzy. It was too good.

Your moans only brought him closer to the edge, with you right with him.

His thrusts got sloppier and less calculated as he was about to cum.

“Fuck- C-Cumming!” You whine.

“Cum with me.. please..” He groaned.

As if right on time, you cum, making him cum as well.

He stayed in you for a bit, letting the both of you catch your breath. He pulled out of you and layed beside you, holding your face in his hands.

“I’m sorry if this was too much.. I just didn’t know how to control myself when you didn’t smell like me, but of a unknown person.” He admitted.

You let out a little chuckle. “I was going to tell you that I saw my cousin earlier- but well..”

His eyes widen as he puts his hands over his face in embarrassment.

“Oh..” is all he could muster.

You took his hands away and kissed his lips. “It’s alright though.. I liked you being jealous.” You smirked a bit.

He laughed, a bit nervously, before asking if you wanted to bathe with him.

Why would you pass that up?

——

Taglist: @im-togas-knife

Wanna join my taglist? Link is in my pinned post! <3

[kitkatscabinet]

Lay all your love on me

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x f! Reader

Summary: You've been best friends with Kyle for years, but will a night of drinking and introducing you to his teammates change that?

word count: 1.2k

A/N: unedited, I kind of hate it but wanted to get it out before I start working on all the angst.

He’s holding a beer in one hand, eyes darting between where his phone lay on the table and the door of the pub. His left leg was bouncing in anticipation, drawing an odd glance from Price. 

“Y’alright mate? Barely touched your beer.” Gaz almost didn’t hear him over the ambient background music.

“Hmm?” it took a few seconds for the words to register but when they did he finally tore his eyes from the door towards the table occupied with his teammates, only to find them all staring at him. It’s Soap that answers for him with a wicked smirk, 

“He’s fine, just waiting for his lass to arrive.”

“She’s not my lass. She’s my best friend and she’s a little anxious to meet you all so you better behave“ he sent a stern glare their way, focusing especially on the grinning Scotsman who had his hands raised in surrender. Any wisecrack is cut short by an excited yell of his name. 

He barely manages to turn and stand before he’s got an armful of you, infectious laughter already curbing his annoyance at Soap. It’s only when he realises that perhaps he’s been clutching you just a bit too long to classify as friendly does he pull away, eyes flickering over your face as if trying to memorise every minute detail after months of not seeing you in person.

You’re already blazing ahead however, eager to meet his teammates as you offer them that stunning smile of yours whilst making short work of introductions. By the time he’s returned from the bar with your favourite drink you’ve already slid into the booth next to Ghost, engaged in a passionate debate with Soap. You barely even throw Kyle a second glance apart from thanking him for your drink, before you’re sliding it across to Soap with a dead pan. 

“Drink this. I guarantee that my cocktail is ten times tastier than your shitty tap beer.” Never one to back down from a challenge, Soap makes a show of taking a sip from the straw whilst dramatically rolling his eyes. Though the second the drink hits his tongue it becomes apparent that Soap’s enjoyed the taste, something you pick up on right away with a victorious laugh. 

“You liiiiike it!” you tease, playfully smacking him on the arm before taking back your drink, “have fun drinking your shitty beer.” Kyle could do nothing but watch the interaction sourly, a light frown decorating his face. Were you flirting with Soap? 

“You know, Kyle had me convinced you guys were scary, I had to have a few drinks before I got here to calm my nerves.” You smiled sheepishly as the boys laughed, “What! You made Simon sound like the fucking terminator or something!”

He should be relieved, but for some reason Kyle can only feel irritation at how well you were getting on with the boys, especially Soap. You’re supposed to be his best friend, so why had you sidled up next to his lieutenant, why were you laughing so much at Soap’s jokes? Did you think Soap was funnier than him? 

A voice is suddenly projected through the space, stopping you mid-sentence and Gaz watches as delight fills your face. 

“Karaoke! Oh my god Kyle you have to sing with me!” You’re already on your feet, tugging on his arm impatiently, apparently, you want to be the first performer of the night. A disappointed pout rests on your face as another girl beats you to the punch. He doesn’t want to upset you but Kyle knows he has not had anywhere near enough to drink to get up on a stage and sing for an entire pub, especially not his jeering teammates. 

Watching as your face falls even further into devastation at his refusal he tries not to wince, promising to take you to a karaoke place next time the two of you go out. 

“Awww, but I wanted to sing tonight. It’ll be fun!” As if sensing you were getting nowhere with him you suddenly turned to Soap, eyes bright once more and a question on your lips. You barely get the words out before Gaz is suddenly standing, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the stage. It isn’t until the previous ‘performer’ nears the end of her song that it truly sinks in what he’s done, but you had let out a delighted shriek at his acquiescence and he hadn’t liked the look on Soap’s face when you’d almost asked the Scotsman. 

You’re an excited whirlwind of movement when it’s finally your turn, pulling him on stage by hand and shoving a mic in his face. He’s given no consideration over song choice and it’s clear to everyone watching that you are in charge. The music picks up and Kyle feels something akin to dread as he recognises the introduction of your favourite song. You’d made him sit through Mamma Mia enough times that he could sing the soundtrack in his sleep. 

“I wasn’t jealous before we met, now every woman I see is a potential threat” You're smiling at him, moving close enough that he can smell your perfume as you grab his hand to twirl him. As the first verse nears its end Kyle struggles to pull his eyes from you, a lump building in his throat as his turn to sing draws nearer. 

“It was like shooting a sitting duck, a little small talk a smile and baby I was stuck.” Somehow he managed to get through his verse without stuttering, shoulders loosening as he saw how much fun you were having. His eyes never once leave your face, the words falling from his mouth without the need for subtitles. 

“Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me.” As you continued to sing Kyle could almost allow himself to believe that you truly were singing to him. Everything that wasn’t you faded into obscurity, the crowd didn’t exist, nothing did outside of you. Blinding smile that’s focused entirely on him. 

By the time the song ends Kyle is running on adrenaline and what could only be described as delusion filled confidence. As the last words fall from your lips and the crowd cheers, a particular Scottish voice ringing out above the others, Kyle finally lets himself move. Dropping the microphone he reaches out with both hands, one gently clutching your cheek and the other clasping the back of your neck as he closed the distance. You let out an adorably surprised squeak before your eyes fluttered close, lips curving into a giddy smile as you kissed him back. 

The audience cheers grow even louder but neither of you care, even as you pull away. Resting his forehead against yours Kyle is at a loss for words, but you seemingly aren’t. “Is that why you’ve been glaring at Soap like he killed your puppy all night?” It takes a few seconds for your words to process but once they do Gaz lets out an incredulous squawk, only to be silenced by you leaning in to press your lips against his once more. His right hand briefly leaving the warmth of your cheek in order to flip off the jeers coming from the corner he knew his teammates to be located.

[jmliebert]

☆ slytherin trio headcannons ( you x ominis x sebastian) ☆

some quiet school days that've been gathering in my head recently

☆

The coolest trio in Hogwarts at the moment, an aura of mystery surrounds you three, captivating the curiosity of the whole school. Some whisper about your alleged connection to dark magic, though no one dares to confront you directly. Some are a little bit intimidated, and some are intrigued.

Ominis, blind from birth, heir to the Gaunt family

Sebastian, a frequent visitor to the restricted section

And you, a new fifth-year

☆

You mostly spend your days in the undercroft and library with the boys. You practice new spells because Ominis and Sebastian love to find the new ones. You also study together and have passionate (!) book debates. Since you started your Hogwarts journey late, Sebastian insists there’s a list of must-reads you’ve yet to conquer, and believe me, he’s very eager about it.

“Oh, how come you haven’t read it yet?”

Since you are a little bit behind on Hogwarts drama, your friends are here to help, aren’t they? And that’s where Ominis really shines. He claims that he’s “disgusted” by all the gossip, but paradoxically, he seems to know everything—every twist and turn. Sebastian, often oblivious (but as always very eager!), pales in comparison to Ominis in that field, and I think it’s funny.

While talking, you three wouldn’t survive without some healthy bickering and sarcasm, I think. Always trying to get more power over one another. Someone who don't know you might think you are fighting, but, of course, they are wrong. And when the time comes, Sebastian and Ominis are always by your side, ready to help you with whatever you need, even the dirtiest of things (typical slytherins if you ask me). When you tell them a secret, expect them to keep it to their grave. They're truly an epitome of loyalty, and I love them for that. ride or die

Also, expect a lot of letters and notes from them. They like to leave you little scraps of paper here and there (Ominis is very good at this, I must admit). Sebastian likes to annotate some books for you. When you are away, expect five-pages long letters sent to you from both of them, where they tell you about interesting things they found in some books, about their days, and talk trash about each other, of course. they can't live without you now

☆ sebastian romance option ☆

It’s quite noticeable from the start. When he sees you for the first time, his eyes widen, he can’t stop looking ever since. You have great effect on him, truly. He stares at you, his posture screaming self-confident, and a little smile that could send you to heaven right here and there. He’s trying to think of ways to spend time together. He’s testing you, and you never fail him. When he sees you with others, he gets angry inside and is weirdly silent; he just can’t deal with his emotions sometimes. He jokingly flirts a lot and secretly thinks you are the most beautiful when you are duelling him (plus points if you are winning).

☆ ominis romance option☆

He’s more shy about it, and by contrast to Sebastian. Ominis' relationship with you grows slowly. He has to trust you first, but when he has, he shows you his gentler side. He initiates conversations with you, is very curious about your life, but is always considerate and doesn’t push it. He smiles softly when he hears your voice, and he gets easily influenced by you. Notice the smallest details and is secretly dreaming about cozy home with you in it.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about sebastian and ominis ♡here♡

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

i need a mark lee drabble so bad like hes soo attractive 🫡🫡

I highkey owe yall a mark fic so even though this was submitted after closing i'll indulge lol.

Hes a little drabble from a WIP im supposed to be working on lmaoooo. I have no idea when it will be done, but nothings set in stone so if you wanna see certain elements in this fic lmk and ill put em to the side once i get to writing this.

Baby, I'm a rockstar Mark x reader sneak peak

“You only joined to get back at me!” Mark insists, his tone a mix of frustration and accusation.

“Hmm, not quite. I also joined to sleep with Jeno,” you reply, shrugging nonchalantly as you lean against the wall, trying to mask the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Mark’s band, Limitless, had recently lost its lead singer, Yuta, who had been signed to a major label, effectively sidelining the rest of the group. The sudden vacancy left the members feeling tense and unsure of their future as a band.

Mark posted about the opening along with the audition details, you felt an irresistible pull to be there. It was a chance to reclaim some of the passion you once shared with music—just as much as it was an opportunity to confront Mark again.

Your relationship with him had ended on shaky terms; he had chosen the band over you, pouring himself into rehearsals and gigs, and leaving little room for anything else. You often wondered if he had ever truly cared, or if you had just been a distraction from his ambitions. Now, it was hard to resist throwing barbs his way whenever possible, letting him know exactly how you felt about his choices.

Mark crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised in skepticism. “Right, because you couldn’t possibly be interested in the music.”

You can’t help but smirk. “Oh, please. I live for music. But let’s be real; having a shot at a date with Jeno is a nice bonus, too. Just imagine how awkward that’ll make it for you when you see us together.”

His face twists in annoyance, but you can’t quite tell if he’s more irritated by your boldness or the idea of you moving on without him. You relish in the tension, eager to remind him of everything he lost. After all, he left you for the band, and now you were back, ready to disrupt his world just like he had disrupted yours.

“You're childish! You're wasting my time. I know you don’t really care about this,” Mark snaps, exasperation etched across his face.

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” you retort, arching an eyebrow. A smirk creeps onto your lips as you continue, “Your band members agree. They voted me in, remember?” You watch as he clenches his jaw, trying to reign in his frustration. “And the last time I checked, you needed a singer—and now you’ve got one.”

“You—” Mark starts, but then he stops mid-sentence, clearly grappling with his emotions.

“Huh? What’s that?” you prompt, leaning in slightly, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Exactly.”

For a moment, the air crackles with tension. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the part of him that wants to lash out versus the part that knows you’re right. It’s almost satisfying to watch him struggle, to see the realization that his band’s fate now rests in your hands. The smile on your face widens, fueled by the thrill of the challenge and the satisfaction of reclaiming your voice—both in music and in this ongoing rivalry.

“Let me catch you slip up, I’ll give you hell” He spits, shoulder-checking you on his way out of the practice room.

Oh you were going to have so much fun fucking with him.