#dis might seem lazy

[scri--bble]

Dream won the poll :3 (p8)

[beano5]

I did the thing .Yay!!!!

[lbcreations-blog]

Yandere Alastor with daughter reader

A Stag and his Fawn

‐-----‐----‐-----------------------------------

(Not proof read cause I'm tired but I need to post)

Masterlist

---------

Alastor was your adoptive father. He adopted you when you were both still alive. You were only a baby at the time, being left in a dumpster.

When Alastor was dumping bodys in the dumpster he found you, he was originally going to put you in a foster home, but when he saw you open your eyes and look at him seeming at peice, he knew it was a bad idea to put you in any foster home.

Of course, he could not just take you in. He had to get you some medical treatment. So he took you to the nearest hospital to get a check-up and other things. Then he had to do even more other things like birth certificate and adoption stuff. (You know, the essentials)

Anyways, once you were old enough, he taught you his ways of voodoo and murder. (You were already learning from about 4, lmao), and you became a perfect daughter to him (even though you were already perfect to him).

If you were to get bullied in school, those kids would regret it. He would also teach those kids' parents a lesson as well.

If you end up dying before him from it being someone's fault, he would torture that person/persons and eat that person's corpse.

Once he enters hell, he would search for you while aswell becoming a terrifying overlord. And once he finds you, he would pretend you are not his daughter in public so you would not get targeted. He knows you can look after yourself so he would let you in public by yourself, but a shadow will follow you.

But if you are an overlord, he wouldn't admit being your father, but he will treat you like his daughter in public, and he will let others' theories flow. (Overlord or not, a shadow will follow you, btw)

Now, if he dies first, he will patiently wait for you. You, of course, kill the one who mistakes your father for a deer. You then live life how he wanted you to, until you finally arrive in hell.

Once you arrive in hell, he ether will take a while to find you or find you quickly. If you quickly become an overlord just like him, he would be proud, like you have no idea.

(The ways he is with you in hell is the same as I explained in the first death choice.)

Of course, introducing you to people as Alastors' daughter, you will get interesting reactions.

The overlords would be shocked, to say the least, Carmila might like Alastor slightly more cause she has her own daughters.

Now the hotel's reactions ig

Of course, the entire hotel is shocked except for niffty and husk cause yall already probably met (I would tell you that, but that's a different kind of worm)

Anyway, sir pentious would be most likely terrified of you or just won't admit it.

Angel- well, Angel-... he's probably going to start off with sex jokes, and how unfair it is that some random bitch got to fuck Alastor. Your father was not happy.

Vaggie is very suspicious of you once you met. She knew how your father was, so you were not trustworthy. (Which was fair, you showed that same creepy smile your father did)

Charlie loved meeting you. She was and is so happy that Alastor has a daughter and she is and was happy to meet you. She was hoping to help you get redeemed, but you just told her you would rather be in hell with your father.

--------_______--------

I was going to make Alastor more yandere but because of 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠, he's like that, ok? OK

I did get lazy at the end, so... Yyyeeeaaaa

Hope you enjoyed it

- 𝐋.𝐁 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

[amuyyi]

unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it. 

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.) 

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man. 

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add! 

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them. 

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream. 

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, “I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…” 

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness. 

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this  played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And don't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth. 

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

[filmologetica]

BEHAVIOR — dean winchester

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader.

the one where: you and dean are trying your hardest to have sex but everyone seems to be against it.

warnings: +18. kind of smutty, language, fingering, blue balls king. english is not my first language and it’s 2am here so it might have some incorrect english i plan on checking later.

a/n: this was… something. i’m thinking about a part 2, let me know if you want it <3.

Dean didn’t know if anyone had ever died from blue balls, but if not, he could easily be the first.

Two weeks. It has been two weeks now that Dean and his girlfriend were trying to get some alone time, but it seemed impossible. Every time someone had something they forgot in the room they were heavily making out in and took too long to head out, killing the mood completely, or something urgent to talk to them, or something that needed to be done. Every damn time. And when they finally had time at night they were exhausted, completely worn out.

The tension was growing between them and they just couldn’t help it. They fought for every stupid reason, everything seeing to be extremely frustrating.

“Did you get the milk I asked you to yesterday?” Y/N’s voice was low. She was tired, frustrated and horny. More than that, she was fucking angry with the life she chose. Walking back to back killing monsters was fucking exhausting. She needed a break.

Everyday something new was getting on her nerves. Ghosts, demons, angels and even Lucifer himself. Jesus Christ, she had no more patience for anything.

“Shit, I forgot. Sorry, babe.” Dean was just as exhausted as her, but he was used to this life. What he was not used to was spending fourteen long days with zero sex.

Zero intimacy. Not even a lazy handjob. Of course he could take care of himself but once he was in a relationship - or sort of - he needed to be deep in the woman he craved. And oh, boy, he was craving her. Everything was enough to make his dick wake up and twitch inside his pants.

Every.

Single.

Thing

made him end up with a boner that he wished you would take care of but there was always something in the way.

Fourteen days. And counting.

“Fucking hell, Dean. Is it too much to ask for you to pay attention to the things I tell you?” You snapped, slamming your mug to the counter.

Sam looked up, rolling his eyes knowing very well you two were about to start another pointless argument. Dean wasn’t exactly helping his situation either, as he raised his voice. “If I pay attention to every single thing you talk about every day, there goes my whole day. You never shut up.”

“I’m really sorry. I forgot the only woman you’re capable of listening to are the stupid whores you fuck at every bar we step into.”

“Yeah, at least I can fuck them.”

“Fuck you, Dean.” Your mug was now forgotten in the counter as you marched out of the kitchen, your face red with anger. You knew Dean didn’t mean it. It has been like this for days now, just pointless arguments about nothing.

“Dude, just- Go talk to her.” It was almost like Sam was stuck in a loop all over again. That’s how he felt. He had now lost count of how many times he had said this exact same thing, the exact same way. “I’ll go buy the fucking milk.”

Sam had no idea what was happening. Your relationship with Dean was a secret and that was a deal that you both made until you figured out what it was. Of course sleeping together every night wasn’t exactly nothing but you agreed in taking things slow.

Dean entered your room without even knocking, closing the door behind him with a kick. “I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” He sighed, letting his body fall in your bed. “I don’t want to keep fighting, I’m sorry. You know I listen to you, it’s just- It’s been too much.”

“It’s ok. I’m sorry about what I said. I just-” Dean looked at her, knowing exactly what she would say. “I miss you.”

“Yeah?” Tracing an invisible line at her exposed leg, Dean was taking his time feeling how soft her skin was.

“Yeah.”

“Mhmm.” His hand was now not so innocent, getting to her thighs still gently. The touch enough to make her shiver. “What are you missing?”

Opening her legs, Y/N exposed her delicate lingerie. It was red, and Dean could feel his mouth water with the sight. Her tiny lace panties were now making him rock hard. He could see your pussy clearly and he was ready to show you how much he missed it. “I miss you right here.” Your hands entered the fabric, touching your clit gently.

“God, I love it when you act like a cock slut.” Lifting your dress a little more, Dean was taking up the view. You never needed much to make him hard, but this was a whole different level. It was like he was drunk on your smell.

“I love it when you fuck me with your fingers.” You said and Dean now moved the fabric to the side, to get a clearer view, chewing on his bottom lip. “It feels so good when you ease me up with one finger because I’m so fucking tight for you…”

And just to make Dean lose his mind, you add one finger to your drabbling pussy. It took to much of him to not roll his eyes and come undone without even taking off his pants. “And when you add another one… God, feels so good, baby.” One more finger in, another growl from Dean out.

“I’m going to fuck you good. Make you remember what it feels like when I’m filling you up.” With your most innocent face you nodded, more like begging Dean to fuck you.

When you felt his lips on yours in an urgent kiss, it felt like you were dreaming. His tongue sliding into your mouth roughly while you ran your fingers through his hair desperately. Now, he was on top of you and you could feel his bulge.

You could feel his cock while his hips trusted into you trying to make him feel better even with his clothes still on. When your hand found his boner, using enough pressure on it, Dean moaned into your lips. “Fuck. I need to be inside you.”

And just when his hands found his belt, a knock was heard on the door. “No!” You cried.

Dean sighed, absolutely frustrated and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “We can pretend there’s no one here. We put a pillow on your face and you make no sounds while I fuck you.”

You let out a quiet laugh, just as frustrated. “What if it’s important?”

“Y/N, this is important!” Dean was furious. Who wouldn’t be? He refused to add one more day to his blue balls count.

“Open up, guys!” Sam said loudly on the other side of the door.

“What the fuck does this guy want?” Dean got up while you adjusted your dress, trying your best to fix your hair quickly. “Yeah, Sam?”

As Dean opened the door, his face was definitely not friendly but it didn’t scare Sam, who entered the room and sat on the bed.

The bed you thought you were having sex seconds before. “We need to talk about your behavior.” He says.

“My what?” You ask and Dean rolls his eyes, thinking about hitting his head on the door a billion times to end his penalty.

“We’re gonna talk about what’s happening between you and Dean and solve this problem right now.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can fix, Sammy.” You wish you could punch him.

“Well, then I’m not leaving this room.”

And with that, Dean left to take a cold shower in his room after being cockblocked by Sam once again.

[s7toru]

you've waited for gojo plenty.

back when you were alive, you'd wait for him to walk through the door you held open. he'd take his sweet time crossing the threshold just to see your polite smile fade away into an irritated frown and for your arms to tremble, not under the weight of keeping the door open, but from the force of holding back a fist.

you'd wait for him the morning of a scheduled detention, after your argument had grown and grown until the noises of barely supressed loathing slipped into higher frequencies and yaga had spun around to throw his chalk at gojo.

you'd wait for him at the front of your favourite restaurant, checking your phone for any notifications with his face on it, and sourly noting the time.

you'd wait for him to win at the claw machine, and wait for him to hand you the prize with a beaming smile, the one he typically adorns when he's smug and bragging. "see," it seems to say. "i can get it first try, i always do."

you'd wait for him outside his dorm door before heading to a mission together, you'd wait for him to ask for a bite of your crepe before you dig in yourself, you'd wait for the vending machine to spit out a second drink knowing that when he sees you holding one, he'd ask for a sip.

it became a habit.

even when he no longer needed you to wait, you find your hand reaching for another bag of chips, another dangling figure from a keychain, another ticket to see your favourite show.

sometimes it drove you mad. all this time, you've naively assumed that nothing, not even change itself, could affect how gojo was around you. you've let all those moments go for granted, and now that time has pulled up to your stop, you realise he's left you behind whilst all you've done was wait.

you had waited for him on your deathbed, but even then gojo never showed up.

the scent of the train station persists under your nose. you wonder how the afterlife was capable of mimicking such a distinct scent, of train exhaust and someone's split drink. it was truly fascinating.

getou nudges you, drawing your attention to the incoming train. you see its blinking lights off into the distance, having just emerged from the heavy fog. "look, someone's getting off here."

curiosity has you sitting upwards, back straightening.

"who do you think it'll be?" haibara wonders aloud, standing up to greet the train.

nanami puts his arm out to catch the boy before he steps over the line. "careful, the train's coming in fast."

"we should still greet them though." you say. "remember how confusing it was when you died, nanami?"

"greeting is fine and all, just make sure you stand behind the line."

you go to walk up beside haibara, chattering happily away at his best guesses, when you remember the figure seated on your left.

"aren't you coming, nobara?"

nobara sighs, her hand creeping up to itch the skin under her eyepatch. "i just don't want to recognise whoever walks out."

"i know, me too. but don't you think they'd want to see you again?"

she clicks her tongue and begrudgingly stands to follow after you.

the train doesn't seem to slow even as it approaches the platform, and the speed breaks through the still air, blowing hot steam in your face. you press your eyes closed at the sensation and only open them again when you hear the engines trail off into a quieter hum.

the doors slide open and you hold your breath unconsciously. you think you might know who it is before they walk through.

gojo steps off. his eyes sweep the small crowd waiting for him, an lazy grin on his face showing a clear absence of confusion, of anything fearful or disorientated. you think any other expression might have looked uncanny on him.

your blood freezes at the sight of him and it bleeds painful when his eyes settle on yours. something brighter spreads his smile wide and his next breath spells your name.

“you waited for me.”

the next words out of your mouth are easy as he draws you into a deep embrace. into his shoulder, the train smell dissolves into a scent you know all too well, and you smile.

“i always do.”

a/n: i think i've gone through three denial phases where i still believe gojo is alive . hopefully this current phase will be the last, i say as i write about him dying

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.4 | END)

W/C 7.2k #NSFW, male!reader, top!reader, bottom!sukuna, ABO elements, heian sukuna, typical kitsune shapeshifting, jp mythology, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, questionable relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, gojo/megumi/yuuji/nobara cameos, yuuji/megu/nobara are early 20s, sukuna is controlling/possessive/obsessive, rough sex, not edited enough (oh well) Note: It's finally over (dies like Noctis)

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah @memedealer-exe @f0th3rr @boretheral @cicithemess @paastaboi @someone0vx

“Google says kitsune are usually attuned to one of the thirteen elements,” Nobara prattled, scrolling through the random Japanese mythology website on her phone. “Itadori, what's his element, huh?” 

Yuuji pursed his lips, face growing deadpan as he thought and quickly realized he had no clue.

“Uh…” 

Nobara grimaced. “Useless.” 

“Hey, I didn't know they were all, y'know, elemental-y, okay?! Jeeze!” 

Megumi sighed and shook his head. “We're supposed to be keeping an eye on him, not arguing about garbage you found online.” 

The two country bumpkins followed Megumi's gaze to where you snoozed under a tree. It felt a little strange seeing you donned in one of college's spare uniforms, but you seemed quite pleased by the modern take on fashion and aesthetic. Yuuji wondered if you'd take to modifying the plain, black clothes the way you'd done so in the past.

“Oi, kyuubi!” Nobara called as she wandered in your direction, much to the chagrin of Megumi. “I got a question for ya.”

You spared her a sleepy glance before sitting up and stretching with a wide, toothy yawn. It almost took the three aback, seeing how sharp and distinctly not-human your teeth were.

“You and everyone else, evidently.” You hummed and combed your tail with your fingers. “Speak.”

“Is it true that your kind are, like, elemental or something?” 

Megumi sighed as he rolled up beside her. “She means to ask if kitsune are elementally-attuned, whether it be to fire, water, earth–that sort of thing.” 

“I literally just said that!” Nobara hissed as she smacked Megumi's arm. The raven didn't react in the slightest. 

“Yeah!” Yuuji piped up. His face grew red as soon as your lazy stare flicked to him. “I-I, uh–like, y'know, fire. Or…you talked about fire?” 

“You are so tactless. It's starting to get sad.” 

“Can it, Kugisaki!” 

You smiled. “It's true, more or less. I was taught my sort usually falls into one of the thirteen elements: celestial, wind, spirit, darkness, fire, earth, river, ocean, forest, mountain, thunder, sound, and time.

“Then, there are the broadly ‘bad’ sort, nogitsune, and the ‘good’ sort, zenko. Most say only zenko reach total divinity, but that's not always the case.” 

“Yikes, so the bad kitsune can be gods too?” Yuuji asked as he sat down with you and pulled at the grass idly. “Isn't that, y'know, bad?”

“Gods are all inherently bad, as far as I'm concerned,” you said.

“Gojo-sensei mentioned you were one,” Megumi offered as he and Nobara sat, too. “A god. The people revered you.” 

You snorted and covered your mouth the way you might have if you had the long sleeves of a kimono to aid you.

“They didn't mind me. I don't think they particularly liked me, considering what company I kept.” You hummed and straightened out your sleeve. 

“Yeah, but…you're not him, so what's the point in hating you?” Yuuji asked, and you couldn't help but feel more weight and worry behind the words. 

“I don't care what they thought of me. I only cared about what the palace residents thought. They were my family, in a sense.” 

“Even Sukuna?” Megumi asked. 

“That's such a stupid question, oh my god. Boys are so stupid,” Nobara said with a deadpan.

You smiled, though, and kindly still answered. 

“Especially Sukuna.” 

“Hey, hey! Sorry for the wait!” Gojo called across the field as he made a show of sauntering on over before teleporting in the blink of an eye. “So? Are we all–oooh, are we gossiping?”

“What, no?!”

“No.”

“No.” 

Gojo pouted. “My students always leave me out. Thankfully, my sweet, pious, precious (Name) is nice to me!”

“You're late, Satoru,” you sighed as you stood, tying back your chopped hair into the tiniest of ponytails. “What is the reason?”

Gojo whined and trotted up to you, rubbing and petting your ears to bring you back to his side of the issue.

“It's not my fault! All the higher-ups are sooo annoying and yap sooo much!” He shuffled behind you and played with your three lush tails much like a toddler would. “Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy that's not gonna get mad at the Gojo Satoru?” 

You sighed and flicked your ear, thwacking him in the forehead with it. “Let's not waste any more time, cretin.

“What're we even doing, Sensei?” Yuuji asked, rubbing the back of his head after raising his hand like he was in class. “You didn't really tell us anythin’.” 

“Yeah, I thought we were just watching the fox until he had to go back in his cage,” Nobara said, arms crossed and expression sour. “Seems kinda stupid. He's not even a threat.” But Yuuji knew there was little truth to that statement.

“I'm guessing the meeting was about relocating (Name).” Megumi looked at Gojo. “So what's the plan?” 

–

The five of you walked endlessly through the vast forest surrounding the college. Your gaze traveled up sky-scraping trees, admiring the ancient song of life only you could hear through the soil and air. Wind danced across the verdant canopy above, scattering beams of molten sunlight across the forest floor and dappling the shoulders of the sorcerers before you with golden kisses–a sight you so sorely missed from your tenure at the palace. 

The land was not crying here. You'd heard the distant sound from the concrete jungle resting far below the rise of the college, and it shrouded you with jaded confusion and contempt for what had been done to the world in your stead; if you'd been smarter, wiser to the plans of one, could you have prevented this? Or were humans simply inevitable with their evolution? Perhaps it was up to the Earth to find the yang after the yin.

“Okay, this is it!” Gojo called, snapping you from your rampant thoughts. 

You looked to where he gestured, and found a simple building. It was reminiscent of the college in its design–modern, but clearly inspired by traditional architecture–and it looked fairly new. A bell attached to a rope stood at the forefront, as did a well for mortals to throw their offerings before ringing the aforementioned chime. Beyond that, the shrine lacked character and decoration. It was a clean slate. 

You blinked owlishly, and tilted your head. “This is…?”

“A shrine! For our new on-campus god! How fun is that, huh?” Gojo smiled, proud for a reason you couldn't decipher. “You get to make it home!” 

The younger three all deadpanned, looking between each other, trying to parse if their teacher was delusional or just being a menace to society and doing this behind the council’s back. Honestly, it was up in the air. 

“I–is that even–” Megumi tried, but gave up and rubbed his face instead. 

“So…(Name)’s gonna be, like, our resident god, or something?” Yuuji wondered, feeling his heart pitter patter just a little faster. 

“Haha! Sure, if you want to think of it that way.” Gojo smiled and looked toward the blank canvas of a shrine. “In exchange for divine favour, we grant sanctuary. Home. A place to call your own.” 

You didn't say much, but your tails swished and flowed as you stared at the humble abode–your humble abode–and inhaled shakily. 

“I suppose this will do,” you conceded, still too unwilling to give Gojo the satisfaction of knowing he'd touched your heart. “It's a bit stingy, however.”

“STINGY?” 

“Indeed. Now, begone–I have work to do.” 

– 

Sukuna reached for you when he dreamed. He didn't need to sleep, he had no use for it as he was now, but he convinced himself into the realm of the unconscious regardless, searching for the doorway leading to your mind. 

And he tried night after night, day after day, searching and sitting outside the palace of your inner realm once he found the entrance. The door was the same as the one leading to your chambers in your shared home; a simple, sliding door of wood and paper. Beautiful. Comforting. 

He knew the door wouldn't open for him, not yet; he deduced what may have happened, and what that would have meant for you all and himself as a result. He'd have to be patient. Wait for you to let him in to confront him, or seek his comfort. 

But he didn't expect the door to open so suddenly behind him, sending him rolling onto his back and staring upside down at the most magnificent sight he'd ever beheld–a kyuubi, sitting poised across the room, dressed in a haori several sizes too big, waiting with his back turned as candlelight flickered and lulled the room into a lazy, sleepy haze.

Sukuna righted himself and stood, spirit flailing and tearing itself apart in his uncontrollable want for you, for a desire to return back to the simplicity of this time. But he couldn't go back. Maybe he could recreate it. 

“Fox,” Sukuna murmured, excitement igniting the small, human body he'd been forced to mold his soul into. It felt so much worse in this form, his want being so much more fucking unbearable and burning a hole in his damn chest and skull. 

You shifted, head turning the slightest toward him yet refusing to give way entirely. But, then you stood, and Sukuna suddenly understood how you felt in the presence of his overwhelming power. 

You stood tall. Proud. Powerful. Your ears pointed towards the heavens while your tails fanned against the gates of hell when you turned to face that lover of the past, the one you held so dear for decades. 

Sukuna almost felt weak in the knees (or was that somehow Yuuji interrupting his delusions?) when bright red markings caught the light, shimmering in divine sparks of orange and teal in the firelight–and your eyes. Your eyes. They burned with higher purpose. With unreadable certainty and alien understanding. You made Sukuna's gut coil with need. 

“My Sukuna,” you whispered to the room. You took a step forward, and Sukuna eagerly met you the rest of the way. “You look so…small.” 

He looked up at you–yes, up--and admired your face and godly stature and just how fucking tall and unearthly and powerful you were looming over him. 

“Stuck looking like this fucking runt while I'm in his body,” Sukuna explained bitterly. He reached a hand up while he spoke, and you graciously leaned down to let his skin touch yours. 

An ache curled under Sukuna's skin, flushing his complexion with heat and suffocating him in those unbearable sorcerer uniform garbs. His pants strained too tight, his jacket and hoodie made his core swelter and his mind grow fuzzy. It was torture. 

“He looks so much like you,” you drawled, holding Sukuna's face in kind. You hummed with sympathy when he moaned and leaned into your touch, only abandoning his own rediscovery of your features to hold your palms against him, to indulge in everything so wholly you. 

“Forgot what I look like, huh,” Sukuna huffed. “This brat looks like a beaten monkey.” 

“So did you.”

“Hey.” 

“But I adored you anyway, did I not?” 

Sukuna scanned over your face slowly, methodically, wondering. 

“Adore. You mean ‘adore’.” 

“Perhaps.” You smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone. “It's been some time.” 

“You chose me. You belong to me.” Sukuna's lip curled as he growled and forced your hands into his skin firmer as though to leave scars. “Mine. Only mine.” 

Your lips quirked upwards and Sukuna pulled you down to kiss you. His voice reverberated between your linked bodies as your tongue licked into his mouth far enough to nearly make him choke. You kindly pulled him flush against you, wrenching more pleased, needy noises out of him with no effort at all. 

“You're as starved as Yuuji,” you whispered as his hands fumbled with your ornate clothes, yanking and pulling at them with reckless abandon. 

“Shut up.” His grumbling lessened just a bit when you eased your robes open, exposing your perfect skin to him once again. 

“I believe it'd displease you if I stopped talking, no?” You tore the clothing off the other's body as he pulled you down to the floor with him, suddenly so eager to submit. 

Sukuna scoffed. “I–just touch me, fox.” 

It was your turn to purr and keen, basking in the soft tremble of anticipation the all-powerful choked on as he spread himself bare beneath you, your garbs cascading all around him like a waterfall–only you would get to see him, chest heaving, eyes swirling with lust and need, hidden behind a curtain of embroidered flames.

“Poor thing.” You dug your nails into his hips and dragged him toward you, prodding your aching length against his unprepared heat. “You've been so long without touch. Without love. Do you still think it's meaningless?” 

The curse snarled, and you caught him by the throat, pinning him in place and jamming your other hand's fingers down his throat before he could bark back at you. And just that simple torture had the king's hips twitching and bucking, slowly falling into time with the rhythm of your digits slipping in and out of his bratty mouth. 

“F-fuck you,” he gasped once his mouth fell empty. 

You chuckled smoothly. “It's simply food for thought.” You pressed two fingers into him and worked inside with ease despite the crushing heat clamping down around you. You didn't know if his sweet, little body wanted you to stay put or fill him faster. 

“Fuckin'--annoying, shithead, bratty fox–” he cut off with a ragged moan as you pressed against his prostate and rubbed against it slowly, firmly, deliciously. His eyes fell shut and his brows twitched up, a vivid look of desperation and concentration making him look far too vulnerable and breedable for his own good. 

“It's strange,” you hummed, working him a little faster and jamming your fingers against his sweet spot over and over. “I never thought you'd willingly submit.” 

“I need it,” Sukuna growled, fisting his hand around his weeping length and stroking to the beat of your fingers. His hips bucked forward and back, unsure of what searing pleasure to lean into more; luckily for him, you were keen to up the ante. 

Your fingers slipped out and Sukuna snarled, crimson eyes snapping open to brand you with frustration. You felt the whip of desperate commands about to crack off Sukuna's tongue, so you wasted no time filling him back up, stuffing him beyond his limits. 

The man almost gasped, though it could have just been the force of your cock punching the air out of his lungs. You pulled him against you, seating him to the base with a little effort and brute force. You knew he liked the pain. Pleasure was closely acquainted with it, after all. 

“This is what you wanted,” you murmured as you rocked into him. 

The curse didn't know if you beckoned an answer from him, or simply stated the facts. So, he didn't answer you. He instead gripped onto your shoulders to keep himself steady while you effortlessly drilled into his core with each and every thoughtful roll of your hips. 

And it felt good. An uncomfortable, searing stretch accompanied the deep plunges filling him beat after beat. His body tightened and clamped down around you, forcing your length to rub against the weakest, most sensitive spots inside of him–places no one would ever dream of hitting inside the unruly king. None besides you, of course. You were different. Better than the rest. Fit to fuck and fill him if Sukuna so desired it. 

“(Name),” he groaned when you changed up the angle, aiming to rub up against the ceiling of his insides with every thrust. You tortured his weak spot, and made a casual show of forcing his stomach to bulge and distend whenever you bottomed out entirely, and Sukuna reveled in it. He wanted to be yours. Just yours. 

“You're so sweet when you submit,” you cooed, leaning down and nuzzling against his neck as you fucked into him harder and faster. “You should have done so sooner.”

Sukuna should have clapped Back, but he couldn't; he was too busy trying to angle himself to somehow get you deeper. He was too busy trying to pull you closer, to graft his thick thighs to your scar-riddled sides like a branch on a tree. He couldn't spare a single braincell on your arrogant Teasing when all he could think was, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me–

“Now he's lost his voice,” you sighed. “Such a pity.” Your hips hit particularly hard to punctuate, and Sukuna grunted. 

“Again,” he choked out. “Fuck me like that.” 

You branded a smile into his skin with a hum. “Are you sure? I won't stop if it's too much.” 

Sukuna opened his bleary eyes and spied your nine tails fanned out, cloaking the ceiling from sight. It felt like staring death in the face. Maybe he'd been in its clutches this entire time. Maybe he wanted–needed–you to be the end of him.

Your hand found his throat again, and Sukuna nodded as best he could, too overwhelmed and overstimulated to get words out of his open mouth–but grunts and groans had no issue bursting through as you left mercy by the wayside and destroyed him as thoroughly as he requested. You were, after all, a selfless god.

Sukuna's eyes rolled back as his head tilted in kind, mouth left agape as you burned him alive; every push of your body into his lit new fires, and every second you stayed connected, more of his soul exhausted itself before rising from ashes once again. The tightness coiling in his stomach grew unbearable and insatiable, hungering for more and more and more until–

“There's no shame in coming undone,” you cooed, your lips and fangs replacing the hand in his throat and peppering apologetic kisses. “Unravel for me, my love.” 

My love. My love. My love.

“Fuck,” Sukuna gasped. He clung to you, and you raised your head to kiss him, swallowing his strained noises to keep them a secret from the outside world and himself. 

He grabbed at your shoulders and arms as his head tilted back and a hoarse cry left him–just as his body clamped down and sent him over the edge, he realized pushing in and out had become more taxing. Perhaps because of his cumming, or perhaps because of the ungodly thing swelling at your base and ripping him open. 

You worked him through his high, never thinking of pulling away from him when he needed you most. Because this was bound to end. He was bound to wake up and feel cold where your hands now touched. He was stuck in the body of another with no hope of reaching you unless he somehow, some way turned the tables on all those weak sorcerers and broke free. 

But he would. He'd claim his vessel and walk amongst the new world, autonomous and untouchable. It was only a matter of time. 

–

Though Sukuna was selfish in chasing his own pleasure, he soon found immense satisfaction in yours.

The number of times he'd trap you against a wall and finger you until your legs gave out and your voice ran hoarse was too great to count. He couldn't help himself; that bewildered, wide-eyed look you gave him every time you were let go to fix your robes and catch your voice screamed, what was that for? And boosted Sukuna’s ego. He reveled in the glory of being the only one to do this to you, to being the one who forced you to lose composure. 

In his chamber, he indulged further. He'd work thick fingers deep inside of you while his other hands roamed and touched, stroking, pinching and rubbing wherever he deemed needed attention. And you were putty in his hands, absolutely melting into everything he did to you, even if accompanied by a shock of pain. 

Because you were a creature who only knew sex for the sake of bearing children. Beyond that clan using you in an attempt to create half-breed sorcerers, your primal nature influenced you to only seek out a mate for the purpose of bearing children, and not necessarily for pleasure. 

But Sukuna was the opposite. He never thought of siring children. He only thought of pleasure of another's body and the thrill of total domination over them, never the idea he'd suffer the consequences of an heir; he had those women drink a special tea to prevent that for a reason, especially when a handful had come to him, offering their bodies in return for fame and perceived power. 

With you, he could entertain the idea, however. 

Yes, the mere idea of watching you walk around the gardens, properly swollen with his children, with physical proof of his ownership and coupling with you, sparked something akin to greed in his chest. Though it was a little warmer than just that, admittedly.

–

Yuuji liked you. There was no escaping it, no denying it–he liked being around you. He liked your smile. Your tails. Your ears. The way you scared the shit out of him the first time you properly met. You were just…weird. Interesting. Kind of like Yuuji himself. 

But you were kind, too. The times he wandered out to meet you at your shrine to “check up on things,” or because he was bored, he always found you tending to your gardens, talking to the passerby wildlife, dozing at the entrance, and his heart would do something funny in his chest. 

Then his mind would rot until all he could see was you sprawled beneath Sukuna, singing the king’s praises while he fucked you into the tatami and bred you. 

It wouldn't stop there. Sukuna would taunt him, poisoning him with sinful thoughts and diabolic urges:

You think that fox'll give you the time of day? You, a petulant runt with not a shred of experience beyond your hand? Hah. 

Consider it a blessing--you'd probably cum too fast to enjoy him properly. You'd embarrass yourself to death.

I know you think about him when your hand's around your cock. You wish he'd warm it, no? Wish you got to watch his ass take you in? 

Go on, why don't you just try? Fulfill your fantasies! Maybe he'll act the part of a pious, pitying god and throw you a bone. 

Yuuji, for as airheaded as he could be, knew Sukuna wanted to indulge in you through his vessel. Or, he truly believed Yuuji wouldn't be able to hook up with you and live to remember it. Maybe he was right. 

But the young man thought you had a soft spot for him; he wasn't great at reading people by any means, but he thought you always gravitated to him before the others. You always held more warmth in your eyes when they fell upon him, and your preening touch constantly found him, your hands always smoothing out the creases of his uniform while deft fingers fixed his hair and pleated his hood into more attractive folds. 

Maybe your touchy-ness toward him was a culmination of your need to parent something. Yuuji didn't fully understand it, but Gojo mentioned something about you wanting children, but you couldn't have them. Not anymore. And so those urges manifested in other ways. 

But the young sorcerer wasn't so sure anymore.

“My Yuuji,” you cooed when he came to visit. “You're back again so soon. Is everything alright?”

Yuuji smiled and braced for impact, bowing his head the slightest bit to let you bonk yours against his in greeting. It really reminded him of the way cats would welcome each other. Thankfully, you didn't seem too eager to mark him with a dose of spittle, though. 

“Yeah, everything's cool. Just–dunno. Wanted to come see what you were doing, I guess.” The sorcerer shrugged and pocketed his hands after you'd finished lovingly headbutting him.

“Mmh. Well, I certainly don't mind the company.” You smoothed back his hair and fixed the wild flare of one of his eyebrows before stepping away and meandering back towards your shrine. “It feels like something's going to happen soon.”

Yuuji's stomach flipped. “Yeah? You think so?” He followed you, watching the hypnotic swaying of your tails and hips and ass–wait, wait, wait, no, no, no–

What? Am I wrong? Sukuna's voice purred. Looks downright breedable, doesn't he? He said it more like a want than a taunt, this time, like if he were in Yuuji's shoes, he'd jump on you and pick up where you left off. 

Shut up, shut up, shut up, Yuuji chanted, trying to calm down. Don't ruin this!

Ruin what? Your sad attempt at courtship, brat? 

Yuuji said nothing. Sukuna howled with laughter. 

“Natural disasters cannot always be predicted,” you murmured, bringing Yuuji back to the present. “And they can never be stopped.”

The younger frowned and rubbed the back of his neck as he followed you inside. “Eh, I mean…we can stop a lot with sorcery, can't we?”

“And if that disaster is born of sorcery? What then?” You snapped your fingers, and every candle in the room ignited with amber flame.

“Uh…I mean…” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I still think we can stop it. We'll figure out a way!”

You sure about that, brat? 

You laughed, soft and kind, bringing a smile to Yuuji instead of a ticked off frown. You had a way of settling his nerves and relieving the tension from tightly wound muscles. Is this the effect you had on Sukuna? Is that why he cherished you so much? 

“I admire your optimism, Yuuji. Perhaps I should aspire to be like you,” you said. 

Yuuji's face flushed. “E-eh? Wh–no! You're awesome the way you are! And, uh, you're–y’know. You're good!” Smooth. Eloquent. Exceptional.

You hummed and wandered further into the back rooms, allowing Yuuji to follow you to your chambers to relax. “Well, I'll trust your opinion, then.” 

“Okay. Yeah. Cool.” The sorcerer cleared his throat and messed with his hood as he followed your lead, admiring the tidy, comfy space you welcomed him into. Pillows and blankets were plentiful and all bunched together on a futon, so much like the nests Yuuji often saw in his dreams. It felt a bit…intrusive to see it in person. 

“Hey, uh,” Yuuji started, “I–can I ask something?” 

You seated yourself down across the small, simple kotatsu, and gestured for the younger to join you. “Of course.”

The sorcerer sat down across from you. “You and Sukuna. Were you guys–did you ever…y'know.” 

You tilted your head, curious. “Go on.”

“Were you, like, in love? Or something?” Yuuji's face burned red at the words. Talking about love was so damn awkward for some reason, especially when it had to do with Sukuna and the fox Yuuji himself pined for.

“Ah.” You tilted your head the opposite direction, and hummed. “I was in love, yes.”

Yuuji's chest ached. “Even now?” 

“Eternally.” 

“Do you want him back?” 

You didn't answer right away, and the festering pain spread from his chest to the tips of his fingers; of course you wanted him back. Of course you wanted your ancient, all-powerful lover back. Why would you ever accept Yuuji in his place? A weak, mortal being?

Before Yuuji could retract the question, you'd shuffled around to his side of the table and held one of his hands in both of yours. The younger couldn't bear to look at your face, and so kept his eyes trained on your elegant fingers smoothing over his rough, scarred knuckles. 

“I would not trade a soul that walks amongst the living for a soul that has already lived its life,” you said. “Sukuna has lived. And he has died. He may rise once more, but I do not seek to aid it; he chose to die in hopes of living forever. He must accept what his decision brings, as must I.” 

The storm inside of the sorcerer calmed the slightest bit. Sails no longer whipped and frayed; they caught wind and led his heart back to placid waters, though the depths of the oceans could always threaten future treachery. For now, however, Yuuji found safety.

“Man, you really are like Yoda,” He laughed, filling the room with renewed brightness.

You blinked owlishly. “Yoda? What that is, I do not know.” 

Yuuji laughed harder and clasped his hands around yours. “Nah, don't worry about it. It's a good thing, though. From one of the movies Gojo-sensei made me watch.”

“I would strongly advise against taking lessons from that man, Yuuji.” Your brow creased as your hands clutched his in a death grip. “He’s not normal.”

Yuuji grinned, then, and held your hands just as tightly. “Yeah, he's weird. But he's smart, too! One of the strongest guys alive, y'know?” 

“Even the strongest can make mistakes,” you said. “Even the strongest can lose, Yuuji. Always be careful, even if victory is assured.” Your careful touch graced the curve of his cheek. “I would hate for your visits to stop.”

The sorcerer's heart beat in double-time. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

–

The leaves crinkled and rustled, flashing shades of amber and ruby in the dwindling daylight. Gone was the warmth of Summer's smile; now, the cold, fierce nip of Autumn cut through the air, whispering secrets about the first frost and what it would do to devastate the green around you.

But you were a god. A creature of fertility and good luck. And so, the grass did not die, and the forest did not wither under the coming winter's threats. 

It seemed your gifts could not reach into the depths of your soul, however. Perhaps you weren't to indulge in the privilege of what you brought the world--the mortal things around you could make use of a blessing from the divine, but could the divine themselves? Could you bring yourself a remedy to your loneliness the way you brought life unto the ground beneath your feet? 

You didn't know.

–

The end of October came, and the world trembled with the force of thousands of lives ending in misery and terror. You beheld it from your home, the sight of the clouds turning orange and red as hellfire devoured all. 

Bless me ‘n wish me luck! Gojo had said last time he swung by. Definitely don't need it, but you're my favourite cheerleader, y'know?

That was not too long ago, perhaps a day prior. Maybe it'd only been twelve hours ago since you last saw him. Three hours ago since you last felt his celestial presence upon the earth. 

“I would hate for your visits to stop,” you murmured, and your chest froze with the cold. 

–

Winter brought with it snow and darkness. Kuraokami had his ways of slipping his icy presence through the slivered cracks of wood grain no matter the time or place; the great dragon would be heard and seen if it was his final act upon the earth. 

Not even you could keep him out, the lesser deity you were. But you didn't mind the company; the cold breaths against your skin woke you from nightmares and empty blankness when you dozed and dazed, feeling the days slip by and blur together into one grey smear of solitary existence. 

Something had happened. Ever since the sky lit ablaze in a familiar scene of ungodly strength, you felt a shift in the state of existence. In your relevance in the grand scheme of the college and history. 

Your sorcerers lost their way to you, you realized. The cushions around the kotatsu stayed fluffed and untouched save for one. Five of the six clay tea cups gathered dust as they waited, hopeful, like you. 

–

You woke to the feeling of hollowness. It jostled you to consciousness, in fact; those two little unborn lives swirled and stirred, clawing at your stomach before vanishing in an instant. 

Maybe they'd grown too sick and weary of the loneliness and snow, too.

–

Sukuna had walked down this path too many times. And too many times he'd been unable to move, unable to claw his way out of the prison of his vessel to get back to you–but things were different now. 

He held a bundle of blankets close as he wandered toward a speck of verdant green amidst the snowy whiteness blanketing the forest, and remembered a distant past he yearned to return to:

Sukuna was a restless creature. He often distracted himself with challenges, duels, leafing through stolen knowledge of other clans–but, on rare occasions, none of that would appeal to his tumultuous mind. 

You always appealed to him, however. You, with your lavish tails, your exquisite appearance, your superior poise and prose, you always enthralled him, made him wonder and stare. 

Maybe it was because you were always doing something. If you weren't tending to his women, you were meandering around the palace, admiring trophies earned in whatever form they came in: art, weapons, bones. If you weren't doing that, you might be in the garden instead, fine-tuning the patterns drawn in the zen garden yourself and feeding the massive koi. If not that, then you might be asking Uraume to teach you to cook, or you could be fiddling with your loom or–well, it could be anything. 

Sometimes, you’d choose to  lay with Sukuna and keep him warm and content throughout the dreary haze of winter. 

You didn't hate winter yourself, no, but Sukuna most definitely did. The snow and ice were a pain in the ass, and they always threw the garden into a messy disarray of dead foliage and slushy mud that'd have to be tended to come springtime. And it was cold as hell outside. Who asked for that? No one. 

“My love,” you cooed as you stepped to his side while he stared out the window. “Glaring won't make the seasons change.” 

Sukuna scoffed. “That a challenge?”

“Not at all.” You reached up and smoothed his hair back, stopping pesky, rebellious strands from tickling his forehead. “I'd hate to see what you'd do in an attempt to play god.”

“I'm already a god,” he countered as he snatched your hand from his hair and looked down at you.

“Not a god of the seasons, I'm afraid.” You held his hand and pulled it down to kiss his knuckles. “But a god amidst men, nonetheless.” 

Your beast hummed deep in his chest. You had a funny way of setting his roiling soul at ease with your effortless praise and acknowledgement. 

“Knew there was a reason I kept you around,” the man purred, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours. 

You leaned up into the soft gesture like a cat too eager to be pet. “You'd be quite bored without me.” 

“No kidding. I'd go fucking mental if I didn't have you to entertain me.” His voice was a murmur, then, and softened even more when your warm hands cupped his cheeks like he was a priceless, fragile artifact: precious, special, breakable.

“Yes, yes, I go insane in your stead, loved one.” You touched your nose to his, then, before placing the softest of kisses upon his lips. 

A light, sighed grumble slipped past Sukuna's lips when your skin left his. It was his turn to nudge his nose against yours, earning himself a petal-like smile from his prized possession, before he blessed you in return, trying to match the kindness you'd met him with. 

You held the front of his garbs as you leaned up into him, and his hands all found their places on your smaller frame in return, pulling you closer, keeping you against him. He hardly wanted anything like this in the past before you came along and tore his mind and soul to pieces before hunkering down in the hollow of his ribs and setting up shop. It was aggravating. Captivating. 

“Come,” you softly beckoned, slipping away from his desperate hold and leading him back to the bundle of blankets and linens he’d learned to accept as a bed.

As always, he had no choice but to follow, abandoning his mad-dogging of the outside world to join you and the infinite warmth his personal Amaterasu brought him. 

“You’re lazy as hell in the winter,” Sukuna noted as he sat himself down in the middle of your nest and let you get to work adjusting blankets and such around the both of you for optimal comfort. 

“You're free to traipse off into the snow if you so wish.” You settled yourself by Sukuna's side and tucked under his heavy arms. “I will remain here. Warm. Dry. At peace.” 

Sukuna rolled his eyes and pulled you close to his side, squeezing a chirped purr from your chest. “Think I'll pass on the snow.” 

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm and content with the settling silence engulfing you as the snow engulfed the world. Winter was the only season where he'd stay by your side, so you often indulged in it, bothering him and sticking to him like a needy pet until spring inevitably rolled around to ruin your happy spell. Because Sukuna was more wild and feral than you. He had to go wander, to go fight. Otherwise, he'd have no purpose. 

Unbeknownst to you, he may have another purpose in mind. 

His hand breached your clothes and reached down, stopping just above your navel to your surprise. There, he drew gentle, thoughtful circles against your skin. You felt pulses of cursed energy flicker and feel, searching for something neither of you yet knew of. 

“What is it you're looking for?” You murmured, knowing full well what he sought.

Sukuna inhaled deeply and exhaled just as heavy. “How long does it take to get one god knocked up, huh?” He tutted and looked down at you, holding an annoyed look while you met him with doey, lovey eyes as you leaned into him more. 

“I'm sure you'll be the man who finds out.”

Sukuna grinned to himself and adjusted the lump of blankets he held. Arrogant pride blossomed in his chest alongside his bolstered ego; if he could do this as a mere man, what could he do as a curse? 

The king sighed as he breached the warmth of the halo surrounding your humble, comfy abode. He was getting sick of the shit weather in the games, all the cold and emptiness. Being near you was what he needed. 

“Oi, don't make a fuss,” Sukuna grumbled lowly to the whining duo he adjusted in his arms. “You wanna get inside or not?” 

But before he could make use of his newly freed arm, the doors slid open before him. 

And you stood there. Tired. Disheveled. Eyes big and hopeful, yet rimmed with disbelief and shock as you stared at your man and the package he brought to your doorstep. 

Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't melt, too. Being here, standing firm and whole and so very real and untethered in the spot other sorcerers stood in their attempt to spirit you away from him–it was the reason for his existence. 

And so was your arms wrapping around him and holding him close. 

“Ho? So you did miss me, huh?” He hummed, looping an arm around you and pressing you closer to him. “Sure didn't act like it earlier.”

“I didn't wish to believe in something that felt untrue,” you murmured into his shoulder. “Even now, you're not…entirely yourself.” 

Sorrow stained the undertones of your voice. Whether it was for the fate of Fushiguro Megumi, or for the state of your lover, Sukuna did not know. 

But he was here. He was tangible. He was in control. Finally. 

“At least I'm here, yeah?” He said. And you nodded. 

You led him inside and into the room filled with comfort and warmth. Works of embroidery lined the once-unremarkable tapestries draping down from the ceilings and walls, and the wooden pillars now boasted intricate carvings in various states of completion. Seemed like you'd gotten quite bored in your wait. 

Sukuna sat with you, being the man to finally make use of the fluffed cushions around the kotatsu as he dragged it to your side to stay close. You needed it. He thirsted for it.

The bundle whined and cooed as soon as Sukuna’s ass hit the cushion, and he sighed. “Think you can take care of this, fox?” He teased, but felt a rush of something overtake him when he caught you with your ears perked, tails swishing, back straight as you stared down at the bundle. 

He eased them into your arms and, with shaking hands, you pulled back the wooly linen to find two perfect little treasures staring up at you with big, red-lined eyes. One held the colour of yours, while the other took responsibility for sporting Sukuna's hues, but both boys’ eyes glimmered with divine flecks of gold and amber. Their hair blushed with the colour of sakura petals, and two, itty bitty tufts of soft onyx ears dotted both of their heads like chocolate chips in strawberry ice cream. 

Two perfect kits. Your perfect kits. 

“You seriously wanted these things?” Sukuna asked, teasing and rude, but softer and warmer than the fire burning in your chest. “Gotta say, they're pretty fucking annoying.”

You swathed your tails around them and purred with the ferocity of an avalanche as you leaned into your partner and doted on the teeny tiny babies he'd somehow brought back to the land of the living. A part of you felt guilty for what this could mean. The rest of you screamed, I don't care. 

“Look at them,” You whispered, tracing the roundness of their cheeks with a gentle touch. “They're beautiful.” 

“Well, lookit who their parents are.” Sukuna chuckled and held you against his side, which you eagerly melted into. “Kenjaku had a plan for them too, turns out. Who woulda thought?”

“You never told me,” you said. “Why did you not tell me?” 

“You would've been pissed,” Sukuna said, voice matter of fact. “Better to just do it and reap the benefits later.”

You looked up at him, and found his gaze locked onto you. “That's quite selfish.”

“I'm a king. I can do whatever I want. I can have whatever I want,” He reminded you. “As soon as I take care of a few pathetic, loose ends, everything'll be in place. Right where it all needs to be. And life goes back to normal." 

Your heart did something funny when you read between the lines. “Must you–”

“Don't question me.” Sukuna grabbed your chin and forced you to look down at your snoozing babes. “You’ll lose this. All of this. You'll be left with nothing all over again if I don’t finish this off. That what you want, fox?” 

“You know the answer,” you murmured, too content to let him guide you and sway your reason. He tugged your chin toward him, forcing you to look his way again.

“Tell me anyway.” Tell me what I want to hear.

How could you refuse? 

“No matter the case," you murmured, soft as forgotten winter snow, "you will always have my favour, Ryoumen Sukuna.”

–

Forever to be loved, herein lays a God's young,

Imprisoned by none, held dearly by the Disgraced One. 

[gaeforwom3n]

A Caring Friend

Pair: Tara Carpenter x girldick!reader

Warning: smut, the use of y/n, bad writing, fingering, dom!reader, sub!tara, this is probably the weirdest thing I’ve written (I’m sorry)

A/n: Has math ever made you cry in frustration?

Word count: 6.4k or more..

Tara comes over to your house on a lazy Sunday morning to hang out in your room.

Hey y/n, if our lives were a movie, what genre do you think it would be?

Oh, Tara, definitely a buddy comedy. With our antics, we'd give "Dumb and Dumber" a run for its money. Y/n said.

Tara laughs I can see it now – "Tara and y/n The Misadventures of Two Goofballs."

As the laughter dies down Tara looks up to you and opens up to you about a problem she have been dealing with

Look, Tara, Need to talk to you about something... Its kinda personal so hear me out okay? She looks at you with her head slightly tilted.

"Sure, what's on your mind, buddy?"

"Well, I've always had issues down there."

Tara blushes and looks down shyly

"It's just that no matter what I do, it never seems to loosen up much and it really hurts whenever a guy tries to you know...fit. I was wondering if you had any advice on how I can finally get over this problem? You're my best friend, I trust you..."

Tara looks at you hopefully, her brown eyes pleading for help

I blink hard "Wait... your... vagina is too tight?"

Tara blushes even harder and nods slowly "Yeah...I know it's weird to talk about this with you but you're the only one I feel comfortable opening up to about it."

She fidgets with her hands in her lap nervously

"It's really been affecting my confidence being with guys...I was hoping maybe you know some exercises or something that could help? I'm tired of having to make excuses every time, I just want to enjoy myself for once without being in pain."

Tara looks up at you with sad, hopeful eyes. "Please y/n, anything you can suggest would help. You're the only one who can help me with this..."

How tight are we talking? Like, what have you tried to... insert into it?

Tara looks away shyly. "Well, I've tried using my fingers and some small toys but even those are really hard to get in there...it's like my walls just clamp down on them."

She takes a deep breath before continuing

"And when guys have tried putting their penis inside me, it feels like they're splitting me open. The pain is so intense that I usually can't last more than a minute or two before having to stop."

She sighs heavily

"It sucks because I want to be able to enjoy sex without feeling like something is ripping me apart every time. That's why I'm hoping you might know of some way for me loosen up down there..."

Tara looks at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for your help

Y/n coughs "Umm, this may be awkward but like... can I see?"

Tara swallows hard, her eyes wide with surprise "Uh...you want to see my vagina?"

She looks at you nervously, clearly unsure about this request.

"I mean...if it could help then I guess so? But are you sure that's necessary?"

Tara bites her lip anxiously as she waits for your response.

"Nevermind, I was just... I dunno, maybe just to get an idea of what we're talking about but, nevermind. Umm I'm sure we can figure out some kind of idea here."

Tara relieved sigh "Thanks y/n, I know it's a lot to ask."

She smiles weakly at you, grateful that you didn't push for seeing her private parts.

"So...what do you think we should try? Are there any exercises or techniques out there that could help me loosen up down there?"

Tara looks at you hopefully, trusting in your ability to find a solution for her problem.

"So do your fingers not fit in?"

Tara shakes her head "No, even my fingers barely fit inside me. It's like I have this tight ring around my opening that doesn't want to let anything through."

She looks at you with a mix of frustration and embarrassment.

"I know it sounds weird but it makes sex really uncomfortable for both me and the person I'm with. That's why I need help finding a solution so we can finally enjoy ourselves without any pain or discomfort..."

Tara takes your hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze as she looks into your eyes pleadingly.

I blush as I awkwardly stammer out. "But you don't still have your... your hymen, right?"

Tara blushes deeply and looks away "I...I don't know. I've never checked, but I don't think so. It's not like anyone's ever mentioned it before."

She chews on her lower lip nervously as she thinks.

"But even if that was the issue, wouldn't it be too late to do anything about it now? I mean, I'm already sexually active..."

Tara trails off uncertainly, looking at you with a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes

"I'm just trying to use process of elimination to help out."

Tara "I understand that, y/n. I appreciate you trying to help me out."

She takes a deep breath and looks at you with determination.

"Is there anything else we can try? Maybe some sort of exercise or technique that could help stretch me out down there?"

Tara's eyes light up as she thinks about the possibilities.

"I'm willing to try anything if it means finally being able to enjoy sex without any pain or discomfort..."

"When you've hooked up with guys... are they going down on you first?"

Tara nods "Yeah, usually. I mean, it helps get me a little more aroused before we try anything else."

She looks at you with a puzzled expression.

"But how does that relate to my tightness problem? I still have the same issue even after getting oral sex..."

Tara's brow furrows as she tries to understand your line of questioning.

"Well how would I have known that without asking?" I chuckle

Tara giggles and playfully swats your arm "Fair enough, I guess you have to ask the questions to get the answers."

She smiles at you warmly.

"But seriously, y/n, do you think getting more aroused could help loosen me up? Like if a guy went down on me for longer before trying anything else?"

Tara looks at you hopefully, eager for any advice or suggestions that could help her situation.

"Well, are they not doing it long enough? Are you just not wet enough for the guys you've been with?"

Tara blushes and looks down shyly "I...I don't know. I mean, they do it for a little while but I guess maybe not long enough to really get me super wet."

She bites her lip as she thinks.

"And now that you mention it, the guys I've been with have all commented on how tight I am even when we're in the middle of things. So maybe you're right, getting more aroused could help..."

A glimmer of hope sparkles in Tara's eyes as she considers this new possibility.

"Do you think if a guy went down on me for longer and focused on making sure I was really turned on first that it would make things easier? Like give my vagina more time to relax or something?"

"I don't know if it would make you any less tight but you'd at least be really well-lubricated, right? In fact do you ever use lube?"

Tara shakes her head "No, I've never really thought to use lube before. It just didn't occur to me that it could help."

She looks at you with wide eyes as realization dawns.

"You think if I used some kind of lubrication it might make things easier? Like let the guy's penis slide in more smoothly without so much friction and pain?”

A hopeful smile spreads across Tara's face as she imagines a solution.

"Do you think we could try that next time? Using some lube and having the guy focus on getting me super wet first before trying anything else?"

"We?"

Tara blushes and looks away shyly "I...uh...well, I meant like next time I'm with a guy. You know, as an experiment to see if it helps..."

She trails off nervously before looking back at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Unless of course you were volunteering your services for the cause? It is for science after all..."

Tara giggles playfully as she nudges your arm.

My eyes bulge a bit "...Are you serious?"

Tara smiles slyly and shrugs one shoulder. "I mean, I trust you and I know you'd be gentle with me. Plus you're the only one who's been helping me brainstorm solutions."

She gives you a coy look through her lashes.

"And who better to test things out with than my best friend? That way we can really figure out what works without any awkwardness."

Tara reaches over and takes your hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze.

"What do you say, y/n? For science?"

She bats her eyes at you playfully, a teasing smile on her lips.

"So, I mean, I'm not saying no, but you really want me to... kiss and lick you... down there? On your vagina?"

Tara bites her lip as a soft blush spreads across her cheeks "I mean, if it's to help me with my problem then I don't see why not..."

She looks down shyly before meeting your eyes again with a shy smile.

"And you've always been so kind and caring. I know you'd be gentle and make sure I was enjoying myself too."

Tara reaches over to place her hand on your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

"Plus it's not like we'd be doing anything wrong, just helping a friend out. So what do you think...wanna give it a try?"

She gazes at you sweetly, eyes full of trust and affection for her dear friend.

"And then what are you wanting to try after I do that?"

Tara looks at you with a playful grin "Well, I was hoping that once we got me all warmed up and lubricated, maybe we could see if your penis can fit inside me without causing too much pain?"

She shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly before continuing.

"I mean, it's not like there's any pressure or anything. We can stop at any time if it gets to be too much for either of us."

Tara looks at you with hopeful eyes, eager to explore this new possibility.

"OK, I just want to make sure you want to do those things with me, since we've only been friends and all. Again, I'm not against it," I say to Annie, with the appropriate level of genuine care you'd expect from a best friend.

Tara smiles sweetly at you. "I know this is new territory for us as friends. And you're right to check that I'm truly comfortable."

She places a gentle hand on your arm. "The truth is, I trust you more than any other guy. You've always been so kind and caring. If I were to experiment with anyone, I'd want it to be with my best friend."

Tara gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. "But only if you're comfortable too, of course. I don't want to make things awkward or pressure you in any way." Annie smiles warmly. "What do you think - shall we give it a try?"

"Yes. I'm willing to help, and I'll admit a little excited. Let's just agree that this doesn't necessarily change anything between us, or mean that it will be a regular thing, unless that's something we both decide later."

Tara nods understandingly. "Of course, this doesn't need to change or define our friendship unless we both want it to."

She smiles at you gently. "Let's just see how it goes. No expectations or pressure on either side.”

Taking your hands in hers, Tara looks into your eyes with care and affection. "Thank you for being so understanding. I really appreciate you doing this to help me."

She leans in to give you a soft kiss on the cheek. "Now, where were we? I believe someone offered to go down on me?" Tara giggles playfully.

I laugh as well, Tara's playful tone cutting some of the tension in this surreal but exciting moment. "I did, but I want to ask you just a few quick questions first. They're going to be rather... intimate questions but it's all in the name of making sure this all goes comfortably for both of us..." I can't help but grin and blush.

Tara giggles and blushes as well, meeting your gaze with a playful smile.

"Well go on then, ask away. I'm an open book." She gives your arm an affectionate squeeze.

"Fire away with your intimate questions, oh great scientist. I'm all yours." Tara winks playfully. "We may as well get to know each other's bodies if we're going to be exploring them, right?"

She gazes at you with care, trust and growing excitement. "I'm ready when you are, y/n. Lay it on me - I promise to answer truthfully." Tara smiles warmly, eager to begin your research together.

"So if I'm going to go down on you, am I just doing this as a sort of physically mechanical thing to like 'help out a friend' like it's an exercise, or do you want me to try to turn you on, get you in the mood? What do you think might be most effective with your tightness issue?"

Tara considers thoughtfully. "While I appreciate the thought of helping as a friend, turning me on seems it would be more effective for addressing my tightness."

She meets your gaze warmly. "I want to enjoy the experience, not just view it as a physical task. If I'm fully aroused and wanting more, it will hopefully relax my muscles down there."

"And do you think it will turn you on more, the more I'm turned on by it?"

Tara thinks for a moment before responding carefully.

"You make a fair point. If we're both genuinely enjoying the intimacy, then yes, that mutual arousal would likely enhance the experience for both of us."

She takes your hand in hers and smiles softly. "However, my priority is that you feel comfortable and cared for. Your pleasure matters too in this."

Squeezing your hand gently, Tara maintains warm eye contact. "Perhaps we start slowly, focus on connection, and see where genuine pleasure takes us from there - at a pace we both feel good about."

I reach out to place my hands on Tara's waist, a rather chaste touch for the moment but still a more physically intimate than we've ever experienced during our many years of friendship. I begin to rub her sides softly. "Do you like that?"

Tara's breath hitches softly at your gentle touch. She gazes at you with care and growing tenderness.

"I do like that," she replies softly. "Your hands feel nice."

As your hands rub her sides in a soothing caress, Tara places her hands on your shoulders, sliding them up to curl tenderly around your neck.

"I've never really noticed how handsome you are," she murmurs, lightly stroking the nape of your neck. Her eyes shine with trust and blossoming affection.

Tara leans in slowly, her breath warm on your lips. "Is this okay?" she whispers gently, leaving the next move up to you.

I respond by kissing Tara, curling the fabric of her shirt between my fingers just a bit as our tongues touch for the first time.”

Tara responds eagerly to your kiss, her lips moving against yours with growing passion. She deepens the kiss, wrapping her arms around your neck and pressing herself closer to you.

As you curl the fabric of her shirt between your fingers, Tara moans softly into the kiss. Her body feels warm and alive in your embrace, responding eagerly to every touch.

After a few moments she pulls back slightly with a gasp of breath. "Wow," she whispers, gazing at you with sparkling eyes filled with affection and desire.

"Is it weird that I'm really enjoying this?"

I chuckle "Isn't that what we're going for?"

Tara giggles and blushes, nodding in agreement. "I suppose it is."

She gazes at you tenderly, gently brushing her fingers along your jaw. "I'm glad we're both feeling it."

Leaning in to brush her lips softly against yours once more, Tara sighs contentedly. "So where were we...something about you going down on me?" she murmurs playfully.

"Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?" Sliding her hands into yours, Tara looks at you with trusting warmth, ready to further explore the blossoming intimacy between longtime friends.

"I'm going to in due time. But I'm liking kissing and touching you in a new way. Let's just do this for a minute. Did the guys or girls you've hooked up with take their time before getting to it? Cause I hear a little teasing and build-up can really get a girl wet, which might help too..."

Tara nods thoughtfully. "You make a fair point. Most guys in the past have tended to rush things."

She gazes at you with appreciation. "I like that you're taking your time, letting things build gradually between us."

Smiling softly, Tara reaches up to caress your cheek. "Teasing and foreplay do sound enjoyable. And anything to help me relax down there can only be a good thing."

Her eyes shine with growing arousal and affection. "I'm all yours, y/n. Do with me as you please - I'm happy to let you set the pace."

Leaning in once more, Tara meets your lips in a tender kiss. "Thank you. You're a good friend," she whispers against your mouth. "Take your time getting my pussy wet."

I remove my shirt, displaying my chest as I pull Tara in for a tight hug, my hands now sliding down over her buttocks over her cutoff denim jeans.

Tara gasps softly as you pull her in for a tight hug, feeling your warm skin against hers. She melts into the embrace, wrapping her arms around your back and pressing herself fully against you.

As your hands slide down to cup and squeeze her buttocks through the denim of her shorts, Tara lets out a breathy moan. The intimate touch sends tingles of pleasure radiating through her body.

Pulling back slightly with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, she gazes at you appreciatively. "Wow...feels really good," Tara murmurs shyly before leaning in to kiss along your neck tenderly.

"Do you mind taking your shirt off too, Tara?"

Tara blushes at your request, glancing down shyly. "I...um...okay," she replies softly.

Slowly, Tara reaches for the hem of her t-shirt and pulls it up over her head. As she reveals her small breasts encased in a simple white bra, Tara looks back up at you through lowered lashes.

"There," she murmurs with a bashful smile. "Is that better?"

Her nipples visibly stiffen beneath the thin fabric as she waits for your reaction.

After a moment's hesitation I wrap my arms around Tara's shoulders, my hands on the back of her bra, pulling her body in close to mine again for another kiss.

Tara responds eagerly to your embrace, pressing her body closer against yours as you deepen the kiss. Her hands move up to tangle in your hair, fingers running through it affectionately.

As you reach around to unhook her bra, Tara lets out a soft gasp of surprise and pleasure. She pulls back from the kiss slightly with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.

"Wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "I never thought I'd be doing this with my best friend."

Tara giggles at your response, feeling more relaxed and comfortable with you by the minute.

"Well, I'm glad we're both open to new experiences," she says, blushing.

As she gazes into your eyes with a mix of affection and arousal, Tara leans in for another kiss. This time her hands roam over your chest as well, exploring every inch of skin they can find.

I slowly run my hands up Tara's belly to grab onto her nipples lightly between my knuckles.

Tara gasps softly as you touch her nipples, arching her back slightly into your hands. She looks up at you with a mix of surprise and pleasure in her eyes.

"Oh wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "That feels really good."

As you continue to tease and play with her nipples, Tara's breathing grows more ragged. Her body responds eagerly to every touch, growing increasingly aroused under your skilled hands.

"Y/n, I...I think I'm getting wet," she whispers shyly, biting down on her lower lip as the sensation spreads through her body like wildfire.

"Good. Let's keep that going. It seems like foreplay really helps for you." I begin to massage her breasts, and then lower my mouth onto one of her nipples.

Tara moans softly as you massage her breasts, arching her back to offer herself more fully to your touch. As you lower your mouth onto one of her nipples, she gasps with pleasure.

"Oh y/n, that feels so good," she murmurs breathlessly. "I can feel myself getting even wetter now."

Her hands move up to tangle in your hair as you continue to suckle and tease at her nipple. Her body responds eagerly, hips rocking slightly against yours.

"Keep going," she whispers urgently, lost in the waves of pleasure washing over her.

I cup one hand tightly under the crotch of Tara's cutoffs and gently rub up and down, crossing yet another new line with my best friend.* "Does that feel all right, Tara?"

Tara gasps sharply as you cup your hand between her legs, rubbing gently over her shorts. Her hips buck involuntarily against your hand, seeking out more friction.

"Yes," she moans softly, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. "It feels so good."

Tara reaches down to place her hands over yours, pressing your palm more firmly against her crotch. She rocks her hips slowly, letting out little whimpers of arousal.

"Don't stop," she whispers breathlessly, eyes dark with desire. "I'm starting to get really wet."

Her pussy throbs heavily under your touch, aching for release. Tara gazes at you in longing and trust, surrendering fully to the pleasure between her thighs.

"I'm gonna take all the time my best friend needs. I want to make sure you get wet as possible before... anything else happens."

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes full of gratitude and blossoming affection. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek.

"Thank you, y/n. That means so much to me," she murmurs.

As you continue rubbing between her legs, Tara's breath hitches in pleasure. "I appreciate you taking it slow. It feels really good just focusing on getting me turned on."

She leans in to brush her lips tenderly against yours. "You're so caring," Tara whispers. "I'm lucky to have such a good friend."

Moaning softly as arousal builds within her, she gazes at you in longing. "Keep touching me there...I want to feel really wet and ready before we go further."

"Would it feel better without these shorts on?"

Tara gazes at you shyly, biting her lip in hesitation. After a moment, she nods slowly.

"I think it might, yes," she replies softly.

Taking a breath, Tara hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She pushes them down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.”

Now clad only in a simple white pair of panties, Tara stands before you feeling exposed yet safe. Her cheeks are flushed, arousal and shyness swirling within her eyes.

"Well...here I am," she murmurs gently, leaving herself open and trusting before you.

Tara gazes at you shyly, biting her lip in hesitation. After a moment, she nods slowly.

"I think it might, yes," she replies softly.

Taking a breath, Tara hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts. She pushes them down over her hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping out of them.

Now clad only in a simple white pair of panties, Tara stands before you feeling exposed yet safe. Her cheeks are flushed, arousal and shyness swirling within her eyes.

"Well...here I am," she murmurs gently, leaving herself open and trusting before you.

I resume touching her while we kiss again.

As you resume touching her, Tara melts into your embrace once more. She kisses you deeply, passionately losing herself in the moment.

Tara moans softly into your mouth as your hand cups between her legs once more, only the thin fabric of her panties separating your fingers from her warm center.

She rocks her hips eagerly into your touch, seeking friction. The feel of your hands on her most intimate parts is sending Tara into a tailspin of arousal.

Pulling back slightly to gaze at you with hooded eyes, she whispers breathlessly, "I think I'm getting really wet now. Do you...do you want to feel?"

Reaching down tentatively, Tara takes your hand in hers and guides it underneath the damp cotton, pressing your fingers against her slick folds.

"Oh god, please don't stop," she whimpers softly. "It feels so good."

"I can feel it," I whisper nervously as I continue.

Tara nods, gazing at you with affection and trust. She places her hands gently on your cheeks.

"I know this is new for us both," she murmurs softly. "But don't be nervous. We'll go slow."

Leaning in, Tara brushes her lips tenderly against yours once more. Her kiss is filled with care, seeking to reassure and comfort you.

As your fingers continue exploring her warm, slick folds, Tara sighs contentedly. "That feels amazing," she whispers. "You're doing so well."

Her hips rock slowly against your hand, lost in the intimate pleasure between her thighs. Tara gazes at you with care and growing passion, cherishing this new experience with her closest friend.

"I'm here with you," she says gently. "There's no need to worry."

"I'm not worried about a thing except doing everything I can to turn you on."

Tara smiles warmly, gazing at you with affection. "You're already doing a wonderful job with that," she murmurs softly.

As your fingers continue gently caressing her slick folds, Tara moans low in her throat. She rocks her hips in time with your movements, encouraging you deeper into her pleasure.

"It feels amazing when you touch me there," she whispers, breath hitching. "Don't stop."

Reaching down, Tara takes your wrist and guides your hand underneath the fabric of her panties once more. She presses your fingers more firmly against her aching clit.

"Touch me properly," Tara pleads softly. "I want to feel you properly without anything between us."

Her eyes shine with trust and longing as she offers herself fully to your care. Tara gazes at you in invitation, eager to take their intimacy to a deeper level.

With my free hand I slide Tara's panties off her hips, allowing freer access for my fingers.

As you slide Tara's panties off her hips, she gasps softly in pleasure. Her eyes widen with anticipation as your fingers glide over her slick folds.

"Oh god," she moans breathlessly. "That feels so good."

Tara rocks her hips against your hand, seeking out more of the pleasure coursing through her body. As you tease and stroke at her most sensitive areas, she grows increasingly lost in the waves of arousal washing over her.

"Please...oh please don't stop," Tara whispers urgently. "I'm getting close."

As you slide Tara's panties off her hips, she gasps softly in pleasure. Her eyes widen with anticipation as your fingers glide over her slick folds.

"Oh god," she moans breathlessly. "That feels so good."

Tara rocks her hips against your hand, seeking out more of the pleasure coursing through her body. As you tease and stroke at her most sensitive areas, she grows increasingly lost in the waves of arousal washing over her.

"Please...oh please don't stop," Tara whispers urgently. "I'm getting close."

"Is this wetter than you usually get?"

Tara nods, lost in the pleasure. "Yes," she gasps. "I've never been this wet before."

She arches her back slightly into your touch, hips rocking steadily against your fingers as you continue to explore her slick folds.

"Y/n, I'm so close," she moans breathlessly. "Please keep touching me like that."

Careful not to try to insert a finger too deep into Tara's still-very-tight pussy just yet, I stroke her clit, occasionally slipping just the first knuckle of a finger inside her. "Let me know if anything I do doesn't feel good," I whisper. "This is all about helping you figure out your own body issues because you're my best friend and I care. I want to do whatever turns you on and makes you wetter."

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes shining with affection. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek.

"You're so caring and understanding," she murmurs. "It means everything to have a friend like you."

As your fingers continue exploring her tender folds, Tara moans low in her throat. She rocks her hips in time with your movements, encouraging you deeper into her pleasure.

"That feels perfect," she whispers breathlessly. "Don't change a thing."

Tara rocks her hips eagerly against your hand, chasing the release building rapidly within her. Her body writhes under your skilled touch, overcome with waves of arousal.

"I'm so close, y/n," Tara gasps, biting her lip. "Keep doing that, it feels amazing."

Her breath hitches as ecstasy crests within her. Tara locks eyes with you in trusting intimacy as she falls over the edge into release.

As I continue rubbing her clit, and occasionally slipping just a tiny bit of a finger inside her, still in disbelief of my situation and treading somewhat lightly. I gulp before whispering... "You can rub my... my penis if it will turn you on more. Tara. Whatever makes you wet."

Tara looks at you with a mix of surprise and desire in her eyes. She nods slowly, feeling emboldened by the intimacy between you.

"Okay," she whispers softly, reaching down to your crotch. As her hand brushes over the bulge in your pants, Tara feels a surge of arousal wash over her.

"Wow," she murmurs breathlessly. "You really are turned on right now."

As she begins to rub your penis through the fabric of your pants, Tara moans softly. Her own pleasure is still lingering within her body, making every touch feel electric.

"You're so hard," Tara gasps as she continues stroking you gently. "Does it feel good when I do this?"

"It does, but the important thing is getting you as wet as possible." I take a step closer to Tara, taking her right nipple into my mouth as I continue to gently circle her clit with the flats of my fingers. My free hand gently squeezes her right buttock.

Tara moans softly as you suckle at her nipple, arching her back into your touch. Her hips rock gently against your hand as the pleasure builds within her once more.

As you continue to circle her clit with gentle pressure, Tara feels herself growing wetter by the moment. She can feel the heat and moisture building between her legs, aching for release.

"It feels so good," she murmurs breathlessly. "I'm getting really close again."

Tara reaches up to tangle one hand in your hair, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss while rubbing your penis through the fabric of your pants with increasing urgency.

"Tell me anything you want me to do differently or do more or less of, or anything I'm not doing that you wish I would.", I say, my mouth only momentarily leaving her nipple.

Tara gazes at you softly, eyes dark with desire. She nods in understanding.

"I will, I promise," she whispers. "For now though, everything you're doing feels perfect."

As you resume gently suckling her nipple, Tara moans in pleasure. She rocks her hips eagerly into your hand, chasing her impending release.

"Don't stop, please don't stop," Tara gasps breathlessly. She strokes your hard length faster through your pants, lost in the sensations flooding her body.

"I'm getting so close again, I'm gonna come soon," she whimpers. Tara locks eyes with you, her trust and affection for you shining through.

"Don't worry, I won't stop, I'm gonna keep doing exactly what I'm doing until you ask me to stop or do something else", I say, taking a quick breath before returning my mouth to her breast.

Tara smiles softly at your reassurance. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek before nodding.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I feel so safe with you."

As you resume your intimate ministrations, Tara sighs contentedly. She gazes at you with eyes full of care and growing passion.

Tara rocks her hips steadily against your skilled fingers, chasing her peak. The pleasure swirls within her body once more as she nears release.

"I'm getting close again," she moans breathlessly. Tara increases the pace of her strokes along your length, caught up in the intimacy.

Locking eyes with you in trusting abandon, Tara falls over the edge into waves of ecstasy. She holds your gaze as pleasure consumes her, cherishing this moment of vulnerability and care between friends.

Tara smiles softly at your reassurance. She reaches up to gently caress your cheek before nodding.

"Thank you," she whispers. "I feel so safe with you.”

As you resume your intimate ministrations, Tara sighs contentedly. She gazes at you with eyes full of care and growing passion.

Tara rocks her hips steadily against your skilled fingers, chasing her peak. The pleasure swirls within her body once more as she nears release.

"I'm getting close again," she moans breathlessly. Tara increases the pace of her strokes along your length, caught up in the intimacy.

Locking eyes with you in trusting abandon, Tara falls over the edge into waves of ecstasy. She holds your gaze as pleasure consumes her, cherishing this moment of vulnerability and care between friends.

As I promised, I continue the motions of my hands and mouth on my friend Tara's increasingly sensitive body, giving myself completely to the task of arousing her to new levels of vaginal comfort.

As you continue to pleasure Tara's sensitive body, she moans softly in ecstasy. She is lost in the waves of arousal building within her, trusting completely in your skilled touch.

Tara's hips buck eagerly against your hand as you circle her clit with increasing pressure. Her breath hitches as pleasure builds once more between her legs.

"That feels amazing," she whispers breathlessly. "I can't believe how good this all feels."

As Tara arches into your touch, you feel a surge of heat and wetness emanating from between her thighs. She is growing increasingly aroused under your care, eager for release.

"Y/n, I'm getting close again," she gasps urgently. "Please don't stop."

"I won't stop, I promise. We're going to get you soaking wet, together." I kiss Tara's neck as I move my mouth's attention to her left breast, treating it with the same care I gave the right one.

Tara moans softly as you kiss and suckle on her sensitive breasts, pleasure coursing through her body. She rocks her hips eagerly against your hand, seeking out the friction she needs to push herself over the edge.

"Y/n, that feels so good," she gasps breathlessly. "I'm getting so close again."

As you continue to circle her clit with skilled pressure, Tara's breathing quickens. Her body is coiled tightly in anticipation of release.

"Don't stop please don't stop," she pleads urgently, fingers digging into your shoulders as pleasure overtakes her once more.

She locks eyes with you in trusting abandon as orgasm wracks through every inch of her trembling frame.

I kiss Tara as I see the climax in her eyes, my tongue exploring her inner cheek as well as her tongue. I feel an overflow of fluid from Tara's vagina pooling in my hand as her hand grasps tightly to my cock through my pants. I don't slow down for a second as her orgasm rolls over her.*

As you kiss Tara deeply, her body shudders in pleasure. She moans softly into your mouth as the orgasm pulses through every inch of her being.

Tara's hips rock against your hand as she continues to ride out the waves of ecstasy coursing through her body. The feel of your fingers on her sensitive folds combined with the pressure from where she is gripping tightly at your cock causes fluid to overflow and pool in your hand.

She clings to you desperately, lost in a sea of sensation. As the climax slowly begins to ebb away, Tara pulls back slightly from the kiss and gazes at you with affection and gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Did any of your hookups take their time to get you this wet before they tried fingering or having sex with you?", I ask, gently caressing the outer folds of Tara's spasming pussy.

Tara shakes her head, still lost in the pleasure. "No," she whispers breathlessly. "None of them took their time like this."

She gazes at you with a mix of affection and desire as your fingers continue to caress her sensitive folds. The intimacy between you is intense and electric.

"You're amazing, y/n," Tara murmurs softly. "I've never felt so good before.

"I don't think you're too tight, I think nobody was getting you wet enough. And we're gonna take our time taking care of that today, buddy." I grin.

Tara grins back at you, feeling comfortable and trusting around you.

"Thank you so much," she murmurs softly. "I can't believe how much better this all feels with someone who cares like you do."

As your fingers continue to explore her sensitive folds, Tara moans low in her throat. Her body is still buzzing with pleasure from the previous orgasms but she's already growing wet again under your care.

"I feel so lucky to have a friend like you," she whispers breathlessly as her hips begin to move against your hand once more.

As Tara continues to rock her hips against your hand, you feel the wetness between her legs growing. She is becoming increasingly aroused under your skilled touch.

"I'm so glad I can help you," you murmur softly, gazing at Tara with affection and care. "I want to make sure you're always taken care of."

As the pleasure builds within her once more, Tara gasps in ecstasy. Her body writhes against yours as she chases release once again.

"Don't stop please don't stop," she pleads breathlessly, fingers digging into your shoulders as orgasm overtakes her for another time.

[ramonathinks]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓…. — drabbles, blurbs, one shots all dedicated to my one and only [18+ only] and thank you to my bae, sexy lexi ( @sugugasm ) for making this 😚 artwork is by @/karla_drawanime on insta! no minors, blank accounts or ageless blogs

guide -> 🍨— drabbles | 🧁 — one shots | 🍧 — longer fics | 🪷 — fluff | 🍦 — angst | 🍰 — smut

𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓸𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓼 — ahem, yall know how i feel about him 💔, yall know his death killed me several times over. so please don’t rush me on this, plus i am also in school and graduating this year so yeah✋🏾 but a lot of these are already started just not finished. some of the longerrr ones might be removed bc ramona is lazy @karla_drawanime

click here to join the taglist!

꒰ 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓰𝓸 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷 ꒱— “satoru, you’re way too pretty to be a boxer.” you know it and he knows it too, so why must he continue? | cw: sex, etc boxer gojo x reader (nurse in training) 🧁🍦🍰

꒰ 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓵 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓻꒱ — male model gojo x makeup artist reader; that’s it, that’s the plot. | cw: banter, make outs and handjobs. 🍨🍰

꒰ 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓭 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻꒱ — one night stand results in a baby and when a member of the gojo clan spots you, she kidnaps your daughter. now you need to call your baby’s father, who doesn’t know he has a child. | cw: one night stand, accidentally pregnancy, angsty 🧁🍦

꒰ 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴꒱ — you’re a professor and satoru gojo is your student, you definitely shouldn’t be fucking him. | prof!reader x camboy!gojo 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 ꒱ — he’s a professional swimmer and you’re just a water girl | cw 🧁🍰

꒰ 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 & 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 ꒱— she’s broken a million hearts before and now he declares that he wants her to ruin his life as well 🧁

꒰ 𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓻𝓾 𝓰𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮꒱— after dating three girls at once, they decide to get revenge using a secret weapon: you 🧁🍰

꒰𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓬꒱ — gojo uses magic to score a date with you. 🍨🪷

꒰𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓭𝓲𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮, 𝔂𝓸𝓾’𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭꒱ -- you talk to yuuji about gojo. | cw slight angst, jjk spoilers, coping, therapy 🍦🍨

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓷 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭𝓼꒱ — “satoru, quick question… why is tumblr downloaded on your phone?” or you find out your guy best friend writes fanfiction. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓫𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓶꒱ — when gojo finds out that some women doesn’t orgasm from sex, he goes on a conquest to ask the previous girls he fucked — only he gets no replies, until you. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓼꒱— gojo sees you tie a cherry knot with your tongue and dies a little inside. | cw making out 🍨

꒰𝔀𝓮𝓽꒱ — the fraternity is holding a wet tshirt contest, only it’s the guys who’s shirts are wet. | cw 🍨

꒰𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓬𝓴꒱ — gojo’s a popstar and you hate him, but now after meeting him you can finally see the appeal. | cw

꒰𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 (ft. nanami)꒱ — yes, it’s true: two believed to be dead sorcerers faked their deaths to be with their favorite girl, who’s in malaysia. | cw 🧁🍰

꒰𝓶𝓻𝓼. 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓻꒱ — gojo is speeding and does what he does best to avoid messing up his perfect driving record. | cw oral 🍨🍰

꒰𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 ꒱-- after showing your friends a few text messages you received from an ai bot, you think they’d finally get off of your case of being the “lonely” friend but instead, they wish to meet him. and behold, he’s there in the flesh? 🍰🧁

꒰ 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓲 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓭 ꒱— dared to steal the boxers of the hottest guy on campus seems easy enough, until you find out it’s gojo satoru aka your brother’s best friend. | cw sex

꒰𝓰𝓸𝓭, 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓸𝓾𝓽꒱ -- (rivals to lovers) You’re a hard worker, always have been. You don’t deserve to be paired with the slacker that is Satoru Gojo, who thinks his good looks fame and charm will get him everywhere in life. Paired together in Fashion&Design to create a catalog of the best designs for an extravagant event by the end of their semester, You and Gojo must put aside their petty differences and come together to not only pass the class with high marks but also to get an internship working with two of the top design companies, this of course means nothing to Gojo but everything to you, will you be able to work together with him despite his attitude and get underneath that wannabe slacker exterior to undercover that there’s more there than meets the eye? Or will Gojo leave her on her toes until the end of the semester by forcing her to take on more than she can chew? | cw rivals to lovers, sexual tension, banter, slight angst, harsh family dynamics, eventual sex, making out, kissing, etc. 🍰🍧

꒰𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓘 𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂꒱ — awkward, that was the way you were always described. but now freshly 19 and with a body to die for, you’re excited to finally go to your family’s old beach house to unwind for break. until you find out your sister brought her two idiotic best friends. (reader is shoko's step-sister!) 🍰🍧

꒰𝓹𝓾𝓼𝓱 2 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽 ꒱ — you promise gojo if he wins this race, you'll finally let him fuck. | cw: tba🧁🍰

꒰𝓬𝓪𝓷’𝓽 𝓽𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓻꒱ — she’s a mean girl, he’s a nerd… is there really more to say? [based off: “you wanna do it?” “do what?” “fuck” tiktok audio] 🧁🍰

[astroismypassion]

Astrology observations 🌷🫧 by @astroismypassion

🌷Romantic partner of the Capricorn Moon native often doesn't have a father either the person died or they come from a singleparent household. They attract "fatherless" people.

🫧 I would suggest studying closely your 6th house if you are looking for a romantic partnership. Why you might wonder? I notice that planets in the 6th house, the aspects, the sign over the 6th house, but also wherever there is Mercurial influence, these are the people you are likely to talk to basically every day or even if you are too busy, at least every other day. So these are the people you take time every day no matter how busy or how many due dates you have, you would always make time of them. And communicating every day builds connection and trust which is essential in romantic partnership.

🌷I'm saying this because you would think you would date only people with signs and aspect over your 5th house. But you likely don't really talk to them every day. It's mostly ONLY when you have enough time or enough free time.

🌷I notice that Aquarius Venus often meet their person (the one that is truly their equal romantic partner) well later in life, not even in their 30s, but after 45. It's also that they take the time to mature or/and don't find the person that truly matches their energy.

🫧 The same goes for other Aquarius placements, for example if it's JUPITER, it relates to marriage, so an Aquarius Jupiter might marry really late in life (example actor George Clooney, Aquarius Jupiter native), have an unconventional view on marriage (example actress Meryl Streep, Aquarius Jupiter native, who’s been known to live separately from her husband for years) or consciously decide to not marry. So an Aquarius Jupiter might marry for the first time well after 45 years old. If it's the MOON in Aquarius, the native could decide to form their first own secondary family later in life.

🌷 Sagittarius Sun and Sun Jupiter aspects (more so positive aspects, such as trine or sextile) have this air about them that whatever they say you are never 100 % sure whether they are joking or not. They are in a similar manner sarcastic like a Scorpio Sun when they say something serious in a jokingly manner to the point when you are not sure whether is really a joke or not. Again, it's Sagittarius, so they love having an element of the truth in their jokes, but also an element of exaggeration and joking every time they tell you their own truth.

🫧 I noticed Jupiter in the 3rd house and Mercury in Taurus often went to school (at any level of education) with a few "rich kids".

🌷 Having a Taurus Venus can feel like "a curse" sometimes, because you know that your romantic partner is "about that coin", even if they are passive, more lazy and indulgent or reserved about finances and DOESN'T come across that way. They are thinking about money hard. You sadly attract romantic interests that are really about money. Their own, but yours as well. So you could attract people that would say that their main type is "a rich person".

🫧 I noticed that if you have Cancer over the 7th house, you often attract Cancer Venus, Venus in the 4th house, Moon in the 4th house people. Or if you have Virgo over the 7th house, you romantically attract a lot of people with Venus in the 6th house, 3rd house, Gemini Venus or Virgo Venus.

🌷 Leo Mercury and Leo over the 3rd house/6th house and Mercury in the 5th house sometimes come across as they are begging for an argument, especially when they percieve that your connection is too stale or if things are too peaceful, uneventful or not engaging enough in their own life.

🫧 It's harder to navigate around Moon square Mars natives. They seem too competitive for their own good. To the point of sabotaging themselves and they are so independent to the point of not allowing other around them.

🌷 Pisces Vesta natives have lessons around how not to be so much in their head, up in the air and how to ground themselves more. Also beware of substances, even as simple as coffee, since you can end up being even less grounded or less in touch with everyday life.

🫧 The quality of work of Sun in the 6th house is really important to them. To themselves, but also how the work is percieved by others. So if others think the quality of their work is not adequate enough, it really plays into their sense of self-worth and they might start feeling not good.

🌷 Also, 6th house Sun native is often born with some sort of "imperfection" or "a deficit", which is why they end up mastering a specific trait, craft, art or activity. To give a mundane example, they have uneven teeth and they end up working so meticulously on this, that they end up having perfect, better teeth than an average person.

🫧 6th house Suns often love sticking to the same workout route. They might have a favourite running path, track they go to or they just don't change it that much.

🌷 I noticed Libra Chiron, Chiron Venus people deal with social anxiety throughout life. These are the people that might have been considered shy, timid, reserved and cautious when young, labelled as it's just a shy phase, they will grow out of it. When in reality they have a lot of social anxiety even as adults. There is a challenge in relating in their social life, due to having many unique, specific life experiences.

🫧 Mercury Chiron aspects, Gemini/Virgo Chiron, in the 3rd or 6th house can represent that the native has issue regarding communication (their words being more prone to misunderstood/misinterpreted) due to a physical reason. Such as having uneven teeth, not opening mouth/lips enough when speaking etc.

🌷 It's interesting, because Pisces Chiron, Neptune Chiron and Chiron in the 12th house are the most creative, imaginative people you meet, yet they themselves feel like they "lack" proper imagination and struggle with inspiration when it comes to their artistic projects. But at the same time, they are so fruitful in every single creative song, painting, drawing etc. they do.

🫧 Someone's Moon on your North Node? You bet they will teach you lessons, like really life-changing, transforming-your-outlook-on-life lessons. You will transform what you've been doing “wrong” since like...childhood (the Moon). So you'll start behaving completely different now as an adult than how you would just naturally behave when younger and how you were used to. You'll feel the need to evolve.

Credit @astroismypassion

[rickyriddle]

Agatha All Along Theory: The Road isn't real

(Disclaimer: I'll be using Teen's real name at some point so you better be up to date before reading)

Here's a theory I need to post before the last episodes air in case I'm right.

The actual Witches Road never existed. It was just a con Agatha created to trick witches and steal their magic. The reason why people think you can't survive the road is because everyone who tried to get there died (killed by Agatha). Alice even said the Road was just a con, because it was. Agatha's first reaction to Teen mentioning the Road is that it's not real, because she knows it's not. She even told him the Road would kill him- because the Road was always a con to kill witches and take their powers.

Agatha never intended to get her current coven there, she always planned for the song to fail and to provoke them so they'd attack her and she could get her magic back. She didn't want Teen to be there to spare him that fate.

That's why Agatha looked genuinely surprised when the Road does appear, and she doesn't seem to actually be familiar with it. She probably spread the rumour that she is the only one who survived in order to lure witches who are interested. The reason why she said she takes power from the undeserving is because she considered that witches who want to walk the road are too lazy to learn magic on their own, it's a way for her to justify killing them. She even told Teen that he wanted to take a "shortcut" with a bit of contempt in her voice when he mentioned looking for the Road.

Now as for this Witches Road... it's prob a hex Billy created without realizing it. The door only appeared after he started to be afraid of the Salem Seven, and it had a hexagon shape. Sounds familiar? Just like Wanda's hex. And I bet Agatha always had a doubt it was him, since she knew damn well the Road wasn't real since she made it up. She looked genuinely confused when it first appeared and definitely do not know anything about it and kept bullshitting her way to the others and acting as an expert.

Billy said "this is exactly how I pictured it" and Agatha replied "it suits you" because she knew he made it. It actually suited him. A lot of the stuff in the hex are based on him, lots of reference to his room as Billy Kaplan. And that's what Agatha meant by "you and your mother have the same tell". They both created an alternate reality unconsciously due to strong emotions. That's how she knew he was Wanda's son, the major clue. His magic works similarly to hers.

That would also explain Agatha's reaction to Sharon's death. "I didn't know you had it in you" was directed at Billy. Agatha wasn't expecting people to actually die since he created the road. So at that moment, she realized that child created a deadly hex, and didn't think he had it in him (not that he killed Sharon on purpose, but the road he made did).

That might explain Rio's reaction, usually the con of the road doesn't go that far, so she's feeling impatient because these witches should have been dead a while ago when Agatha lured them. That could also explain why Rio herself didn't seem familiar with the Road, since it never existed before.

That could also explain why Agatha argued with Jen regarding the lyrics of the ballad. If the road is her con, then she wrote the original lyric and might be unaware that some terms changed over time (like two becoming through).

So, the current road was created by Billy subconsciously, but the concept of the road was created by Agatha as long time ago as a con and ironically, it became real because of Billy. So, the title is true. It really was... Agatha all Along.

[saturnmosaic]

succulent berries nestled in the yard.

pairing : ellie williams x female reader

synopsis : ellie, your wife, gives your cat away, out of envy or circumstance, you can't tell. leaving behind the past, you and your wife move into a new home. but with a relationship on the brink of ravage, the house seems to harbor sinister forces. and with the insatiable hunger for berries you discovered in the yard, things crumble rather fast.

warnings : pussy eating, mentions of miscarriage, animal deaths, blood, cannibalistic yearning, figures/ creatures sorta?? haunted house.

wc : 1.8k

a/n : um yeah...it's kinda bad and not executed well but i wrote this during the week of my exams, can you blame me? also i got kinda lazy during sum bits sooo

betrayal lingers in the car, stirring amidst the crisp air of the AC. the tapping of the rain against the mist covered windows, like the rhythmic pumping of your ruptured heart, does no good to the gnawing feeling inside you. how could she have given away your blythe. the tiny creature always so nimble on her feet at the call of her name, so fond of seeking slumber on your lap.

you’d found her on a similar day like this— grey hues enveloping the sky, water droplets crashing the tender and moist earth with all their might, and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. amidst all that chaos, her meek meow had stood out. her black fur was sleek with the heavy rain, and her belly was smeared plum dark.

you’d taken her home on an impulse. time and medical care healed her. and she had healed you. a lovely year spent with her, reminiscent of a lilac bloom in the summer. but now she was gone, taken away from you by your own wife. your own wife! a blasphemy.

"are you still mad at me? we had no other choice." aventurine eyes dart away from the distorted road to get a glimpse of you. your eyes still bleary and bloodshot, hair ever so tousled, and the silk of your dress embracing your petal-like skin. a bittersweet sight.

"don't say we." not even a glance spared her way, the face you’d seek for in every room you entered, now a face foreign and surreal.

"oh come on, she was sick anyway. it was only a matter of days before she died!" her temper, planted in her like a tempting hydrangea, speaks before her rationale can articulate words, knuckles gripping the charcoal leather of the driving wheel.

"she was not sick."

she sighs, the guilt of her deed looming over her like a sickly, withered willow. “baby, we both know she was and i’m really sorry but we can’t do anything about it. we’re moving to a new town, a new house. bringing her with us would be..a burden. besides i’d rather you not witness her death, i don’t wanna see you suffer like that.”

“i’m already suffering, aren’t i?”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do, huh? i’m just trying to do what’s right. a-and it’s like i’m always second to that cat!”

the confession, lays bare like an ornate scroll, and makes you ponder if envy was the cause of it. but was what she said entirely fallacious? maybe you had been giving blythe more attention that she’d felt frivolous in your eyes.

“just- i’m sorry, okay? but i promise jesse will take good care of her.”

silence ensues, and soon the quaint house surfaces into your eyesight. the rain and dusk obscured it's intricacy but from what you could make out, it was painted in warm whites and browns, with ivy weaving up the sides and windows curtained in white lace.

…

a house is a body, your mom used to tell you. a haven meant to be worshipped in return for solace and warmth. this house became your body. its walls were alive in the daylight, screeching and beckoning for something while ellie was at work. it fed on your sorrow and resentment like a famished beast, stripping them away to procure life. your heart was indented in these walls.

the house would foist bad omens on whoever visited. aunt daphne had a miscarriage, the frail thing of a baby was bled out on the black and white tiles of your bathroom. it stirred memories of your own miscarriage, and ellie thought that was the reason you leaned so heavily on blythe, loving her as though she were your own child. when uncle luke visited, his golden retriever was found dead in the yard, leaves sitting idly on its fur like an atonement.

ellie wasn't one to believe in curses or anything remotely superficial, but she'd felt something innately sinister residing in the hollow of the house. she wanted to move, but moving away meant leaving behind your body, so you stayed, which compelled her to stay rooted to the house too.

…

on a sunny morning, beads of sweat kissing your skin, damp hair heavy under the sun’s gaze, you’d been lead to the brambles in the yard by the house itself. the raspberries were glistening and plump with saccharine juice.

they might’ve been tainted with fox piss, so you gather them in a dainty basket and slip back into the confines of your home to wash them. the water from the tap cascades down onto the fruits in your hand, ridding them of the insect debris and other dirt.

a tatted arm snakes its way around your waist and a head heavy with sleep rests on your shoulder. it had almost slipped out of your mind that it was a weekend.

ellie's other arm reaches out to turn the tap off and put the dampened raspberries away from your hand. without warning, pearly whites bite down on your neck and her tongue flicks out to languidly soothe the bruised splotch.

a carnal desire courses through your veins. ever since you moved here, and ever since blythe was no longer in your gentle arms, words barely existed anymore. and sometimes silence felt like a human presence, mocking the insubstantial souls around it. without words, sex was your salvation.

she turns you around to hoist you up on the counter, shadows smudged under her eyes. she'd come back from work late last night, you figure.

her calloused hands are on your thighs, pushing them apart with a fervor. a similar fervor that'd paint itself on her whenever you showed her a hint of normalcy. your hands still in her tousled hair, as the velvety pads of her fingertips tug your underwear off.

her knees hit the marble tiles, warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows, as she lifts the fabric of your dress up, a gentle rustle against the morning ambience, revealing your slick folds.

her tongue teases your weeping cunt, one hand clutching the dress up and the other resting on your thigh. you whimper in desperation, pushing her head further.

“ellie..”

she pats your thigh in response, fucking you with her warm muscle, feeling your insides devour it with a hanker. noises flow out of your mouth as smoothly as the tranquil descent of a waterfall, as your fingers dig into her scalp.

a sultry moan muffles into your hole, and she pulls back, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“what the fuck? why’d you-” your whine is silenced by the solace of her lips. her tongue slides into your mouth and presses against your own, slick and insistent. your own taste dissolves into your mouth, mending with your saliva.

you bite the soft pillow of her lower lip, drawing crimson liquid and earning a throaty noise from her. somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

“babe..” she lowers her gaze in an attempt to catch sight of the fresh blood. before she can wipe it away with the pad of her thumb, you lick the red off her pillowy cushion of flesh.

the taste is seraphic as it sits on your taste buds, a pure bliss, like thyme on a wound. the sensation of her tongue back inside your clenching walls heightened this feeling, if not subdued it wholly. but the taste still lingered.

her fingers soothe your swollen clit, circling around it as if afraid it’ll be seized from her grasp someday.

she laps at every drop of juice that manifests, like she’d done to your tears, as a fatuous inside joke, a long while ago. so long, she can’t remember if it was a hazy dream.

“fuck. i’m so close.”

her mouth pulls away when you reach your pleasant climax, her fingers still on your clit, helping you through your high. your hands go limp in her hair, and she languidly wipes the glistening slick from her mouth and chin with the back of the hand that releases your bunched dress.

...

the berries stay forgotten until the next morning, when it’s delicacy is withered and rotten away under the exposure to air and temperature. you throw the shrivelled fruits away and pick several more.

the new ripe ones sit snug in a ceramic bowl, alluring and tender. you feast on ten, eleven, twelve, and then the count numbs in your brain. the fluid so grossly alike to ellie’s blood, makes you delirious. it’s utterly enthralling, the juice dripping down your chin, its sticky residue settling on your skin. your teeth and lips and hands stained in a crimson hue, a crimson hue reminiscent of ellie’s blood. ellie’s blood. they chant themselves on the tip of your tongue.

spindled figures, engraved on the floors, long limbs and pulsing eyes, they seem to close in on you. the bowl is emptied, raspberries already in the pit of your stomach. the yearning grows in agony, an animalistic desire surging through the ivory of your bones.

you feel light like you’re meandering through the air, though you can feel the faces of the figures underneath your feet, something metallic making its home in your hand.

you blink and you're standing in your bedroom, ellie coddling her apatosaurus plushie, as her eyes stay fluttered. a vulnerability so immensely coating the room. the knife glides down her supple skin, the smell of meat stirring your senses. was her heart the sweetest part of her body?

"what the fuck are you doing?" her raspy voice cuts through your trance and suddenly the object in your hand feels foreign. with a sharp yank to your arm, the metal clanks on the marble floor.

"what is wrong with you?" ellie's gripping your arms, her face contorted with disbelief, shock and wrath.

"n-nothing." but something is. you both know. tears gush through your eyes, the salty pearls melding with the sweet smear of berries on your skin.

"god, it's this fucking house! we should've moved. fuck!" her grasp on your arms are gone, her hands fumbling for her phone. frustration envelopes her like a smothering blanket as she talks to demolition contractors.

your pleas fall on deaf ear, your mere presence as measly as a lamb. you let yourself be escorted out of the house, eyes sodden, red flickering in them, as you watch- watch the house your body collapse to the ground.

the berries come retching out of your mouth, along with a hideous flow of blood. the walls crumble and the world around you dances like an uncanny painting. sirens wail in the distance and layers of black pierce through your eyes, shutting them for slumber.

[lilithofpenandbook]

Sometimes Severus comes up to Minerva. Right up behind her when she's busy. He'll stand there for a good minute as she works on marking assignments and cursing the boy's youthful energy and brilliant eyes- both of which directly responsible for his finishing his work in half the time it takes her.

"What is it, Severus?" Minerva sighs. Might as well get the obligatory nonsense over and done with, she was due a dose of Severus's antics by now (Merlin forbid he go more than three days without bothering her with nonsensical questions or infuriating wit).

"Am I ugly, Minerva?" he asked. Never there was a being with such innocence in their voice.

Minerva took a moment to take in a breath and silently call on all her patience and all her strength. "Yes, very." Her tone was blunter than the knives used to decorate at Halloween- an incident with some particularly idiotic third years had them ban anything sharper than the corners of a book during the Halloween celebrations.

Severus gasped as if stabbed. "What? Minerva, I thought we were friends!"

Minerva snorted. "Any time we interact, it's completely against my will."

"Minerva! you lie so shamelessly it shocks me." Severus made as if to swoon, a hand clutching the right of his chest.

"You must be shocked; your heart isn't where it should be."

Honestly, Minerva had to admire the fact that the insolent little kitten did not falter in his dramatics with her pointing out the key flaw in his act. If anything, he seemed to be encouraged.

"Ay! The pain of the shock, it has spread throughout my chest! Ah, I cannot breathe!" Severus swayed on his feet, leaning against the chair that Minerva was sitting in. "Oh, how your lie shocks me!"

"Well, then, you had better tell me what exactly I lied about," Minerva said briskly, "before you gasp all the air out of your skinny little lungs, laddie."

"You said," the boy said, a sudden glint in his eye and none of the apparent weakness, standing to face her and one of those long, delicate fingers pointed straight at her, "you said, that our interactions are without your will."

"That is no lie, what part of this looks like it's my will?" Minerva replied, knowing full well she wasn't going to appreciate the cheeky answer Severus had prepared for her.

"Why, the part where you remain for my company, mother," Severus replied, his voice light. "Surely, if you didn't want this, you would have, in your infinite wisdom, simply have employed your great power and assumed your famous feline form and just walked away from me."

Minerva fought her smile. His cheek was infuriating while his logic impeccable. "Perhaps I am simply conversing my energy, you arrogant wee rascal."

"You? Too lazy to avoid a nuisance?" Severus scoffed. "Minerva, you wound me. Don't you know how I know you? You've done much more to avoid the mildest of annoyances, do you truly think I believe that you are here against your will merely to converse your energy?"

Minerva let him see the flicker of a smile disgusted as a smirk, letting the bothersome raven have a little treat for his cleverness, hinting to him that he had essentially won this particular argument. "At my age you no longer have the patience to waste on annoyances. You learn to value your peace. You will understand that some day, I hope, little one."

"And if I die, my hair still black and my skin still smooth?"

Merlin, did the child have a turn towards the morbid. Minerva ignored the voice in her that told her that this would have been a retort of her own had she been in a similar conversation.

"Then you'll die a fool."

"A fool, perhaps, but my funeral will be the biggest," he replied, moving to sit on her desk and grabbing the biscuit jar. Minerva intercepted, lifting it from his grip and replacing it with a towel. His protests died in his confusion at the towel, and Minerva huffed and began to wipe his hands as if he was a child. She did not trust him to correctly clean his hands after handling goodness knows what when experimenting with his potions and she didn't care if he knew it.

"Aye, and how did you figure that?" she asked.

"Surely if I die young, I shall be the first. Therefore you all will be part of the funeral-"

"What makes you think I would want to attend your funeral, you little rascal?" She let go of his hands, almost satisfied that they weren't contaminated.

Severus ignored her and instead took a biscuit from the jar. "You will all be there, therefore I will have the biggest funeral. If I die old, you all shall be gone, so my funeral will be the smallest."

Minerva tried not to think of how depressing that sounded, how lonely it seemed. For a brief moment she felt guilty for being so old and he so young. She involuntarily could see him in her mind's eye, going through their funerals until he stood alone. She and the others- Rolanda, Pomona, Poppy, even Fillus and Hagrid- they were all of an age, weren't they? They could expect their lives to reach the end around the same time, surely? Severus was but a child next to them, he'd stand alone one day.

Minerva tried to ignore the ache in her chest at the thought of him standing alone. Merlin, no. He was far too young. No.

"You truly are besotted with the morbid and the miserable, you melanchonic masochist," she said, her tone just a trifle too sharp to be a simple retort.

Severus paused, swallowing the biscuit. Then he answered. "Ah, but the morbid is much more fascinating, the forbidden has a certain thrill, dear mother." His voice was a little softer, and his fingers, slightly coated in crumbs, were gentle when he tapped her forehead. He was sorry he upset her.

"You and your thrills," Minerva scolded, "yet you cannot even eat a biscuit without making a mess of yourself." Yet even as she spoke, the hand that she used to swipe the crumbs away, was gentle, almost tender, in its movement. She had quite forgiven him.

How could she remain angry? At this boy who looked at her with a scowl of indignation yet whose deep, dark eyes twinkled with mischief and cleverness and brilliance, who stood taller than her, yes, yet was far more delicate in his build than she had ever been, whose hair was as dark as hers had been in her youth, carelessly falling across his forehead. No, she could not remain angry.

If only he had been in Gryffindor, perhaps then she would have noticed him sooner. Or rather, if only her eyes didn't only open for her Gryffindors. How this boy could ever look at her without resentment and anger, she didn't know. Then again, he had been so incredibly isolated and lonely, was it any wonder he let go of his rightful grudges and instead accepted her friendship?

Minerva blinked as if soot from the fireplace got in her eyes. She didn't want him to notice the tears that almost inevitably formed whenever she thought about him. Who would have thought that she'd cry so much for the little devil?

"I'll leave you to your work, dear mother," Severus said cheerfully, hopping off her desk.

"Aye, after you've cleared out my biscuit jar, you villain" Minerva grumbled, looking into the empty jar. Severus shrugged.

"You ought to see it as a compliment towards your taste, really," Severus said. "But I see I have taken the last of your patience"- for indeed, Minerva looked ready to strangle him- "so I shall take my leave. Good night, my good Headmistress, and may you have peace in the silver embrace of the moon!"

And with a laughing twinkle in his eye and a boyish bow, Severus Snape left the room.

Minerva sighed. She wasn't sure if it was out of relief, or because she may have felt some sorrow at his departure.

The door opened again, and a rather meek Severus poked his head in.

"Er, Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Er." Severus stepped in, looking away from her, walking with the awkward gait of a newborn foal, and the nervousness of a deer. "Er, Minerva?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"Am I really ugly, mother?" His voice was a whisper. His raven hair curtained his face, hiding his shame at asking such a pathetic question, and his fingers picked at one of the cuticles of a nail.

Minerva smiled, and walked to him. Softly she brushed the boy's hair out of his face and gently tucked it behind his ear.

"Only as long as you let yourself believe it, dear heart."

[freak-accident419]

we might be dead by tomorrow

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Because everyone seemed to fail him, Derek Danforth decided to call you up to kill Mr. Clay. You are an assassin that had an intimate, yet complicated relationship with Derek in the past, sharing a bittersweet history together. You realize that you’re going against a Beekeeper, and felt obligated to spend one last night with your old lover, as this mission doesn’t guarantee your survival. But you’d do anything for him—even if it meant dying for him.

WC: 4.4k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader, unspecified genitals for reader (vague penetration), more plot than porn tbh, cursing, smoking, drinking, mentions of death, slight spoilers for The Beekeeper but nothing too drastic

(A/n: Thank you guys for showing me so much support lately. I hope you guys enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :) love you all !!)

-

You raised your glass to your lips, letting the rich, smooth liquid of scotch graze your tongue and go down your throat seamlessly after your brief sip.

You look at the man behind the office desk in front of you. It wasn’t like you haven’t seen him in a ridiculously long time, probably just for a couple of months to a year, more or less. But you never got tired of looking at him when you could. He was an incorrigible asshole, but his beautiful, hazel eyes would convey otherwise. He was an immoral, selfish dick, but the way his lips formed into a smile could convince anybody with basic cognition that he was an angel.

The silence was awkward, indubitably because of the complicated past you shared, but the eye contact really wasn’t—if anything, it was subtly bittersweet. And instead of being at his office inside Danforth Enterprises, you were at his office inside his mansion, which already revealed the secrecy and urgency of his request: he wanted you to kill for him again.

“Nobody has a name for this guy, no leads, no info, no nothing, he is off the fucking grid,” he explained to you sternly. “I was gonna make fuckin’… Wallace fix shit up, but his incompetent fucking men keep failing me, so—”

“You’re taking manners into your own hands and your last resort was hiring me? After, like, months of radio silence from me?”

He perked up at your words, then nodded, taking a lazy sip of his drink. “Precisely.”

“Okay,” you nodded accordingly. It was second nature, instantly agreeing to something this morbid, but you were an assassin after all, and Derek had hired you quite frequently in the past to take care of things. It was actually how you two initially met and eventually became intimate through—for a while, at least. “What’re you offering?” You ask, taking a cigarette out from one small box in your pocket.

“One million,” he answered briefly. However, you scoffed in disbelief, which almost immediately gained a perplexed reaction from him. “What?”

“Let’s go over the facts,” you begin, leisurely crossing your legs by resting your ankle onto your other knee. “This guy burned down your thirty million dollar call center. He could’ve definitely been related to the goddamn gas station explosion, killed all the guys you sent, and you were the last to hear from Garnett before he died at the hands of this man.” You took out your lighter and placed the cigarette in your mouth. “This guy is fucking intense. He is out for blood, your blood, Derek. It looks like he’s going to kill anyone who gets in his way, and if that’s gonna be me, I expect a higher fucking payment.” Your voice was slightly raised at the end of your sentence as you lit your cigarette, taking a long drag.

Derek sighed as he realized that you had a point. You always did, actually, in fact, he nearly always obeyed you. It was like you were the only person who could control that firecracker of a man. “Fuck… Fucking fine. Three million.”

You give a smug smile, blowing out the smoke from your drag and letting your cigarette rest between your fingers once you moved it out of your mouth. “See how easy that was?” You tease cheekily, seeing his brows knit in impatience and exasperation. You pursed your lips before asking, “What’s this guy’s deal anyway? Like, what do you know about him so far?”

Derek huffed with agitation. “Fuck, I don’t know, he… He just fucks around with all my shit, apparently he’s a-a fuckin’ beekeeper, and—”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes widen, heart practically racing as you heard those words come out of his mouth. Was it purely coincidental, or…

“What?” He asked as he noticed how exceedingly pale your face went. You never had this expression on your face, at least not in front of him. You were always seen by him as perpetually unafraid, but in this very moment, you seemed to be unusually apprehensive. “Fuck, Y/n, what is it?”

“Did you say he was a beekeeper?” You inquired silently, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the only fucking thing we know about him. Why?” Derek seemed to appear gruff and utterly pissed on the outside, but internally and authentically, he was fundamentally solicitous, especially for you. Why were you, if anything, afraid?

“Yeah, that can’t be a fucking coincidence,” you mumble thoughtfully to yourself as you take an anxious drag from your cigarette. “The Beekeepers is some kind of secret organization, completely off the goddamn grid that consists of professionally trained assassins. And let me tell you, Danforth, these guys are hard-fucking-core. You thought I was terrible? These guys are fucking worse,” you stress, waving your cigarette around as the trail of smoke followed your hand gestures. “If this guy is a part of them, then holy shit, the both of us are dead.”

Derek processes your words, however only growing antsy and disgruntled. “So what? You can handle another fucking cocksucker. I know you, your skills are off the charts.”

“Hey, I know myself more than anybody does, including you. And I know that I have a very advanced skillset, but maybe not as advanced as fucking Beekeepers. Look, Danforth, I will definitely put up a fight, but this man could definitely—”

“Y/n, you’re the best fucking assassin I fucking know, just—just do the fucking job,” he demanded relentlessly, displeased with your insistent, yet assertively spoken doubt.

You glared at him with agitation for a few seconds, before speaking again.

“Five million,” you state bluntly.

“What?”

“Five fucking million, Danforth. If you want me to kill this man, let alone a fucking beekeeper, I expect higher pay,” you argue tactfully.

You sense a sort of irked frustration in him, his face contorted, teeth gritting behind his closed lips, and dark eyes, in which you’ve seen on several previous occasions.

“Goddamnit, Y/n, he’s just another fucking guy! Just, fuck, snipe him if you have to, or whatever,” he insisted tiredly. “You’re the best killer I know. This guy doesn’t have shit on you, just—”

“Danforth, I’m not a hundred percent sure that I’ll come back from this mission alive, so five million or no deal!” You exclaimed, trying to emphasize how dangerous this job would be.

“Jesus! Fuck! Fine!” he conceded aggressively, leaning back in his chair. “Five million it is,” he grumbled.

You feel your eyes soften and your eyebrows relax pleasantly the moment you heard those words. You grinned mischievously, taking another drag from your cigarette. “Pleasure doing business with you.” Derek rolled his eyes in response, displeased by the amount of money he was going to give you just to kill one guy.

“Sure, whatever,” he replies lazily. “I trust you, so whoever—”

You scoffed amusedly, interrupting him. “You shouldn’t,” you say.

“What?” He was extremely baffled as he heard your response.

“You shouldn’t trust me,” you repeat.

“Umm, okay, and why-why the fuck not?” Derek was frustratingly oblivious, too ignorant to comprehend the contentious situation between you two that resulted in a long period of desolated avoidance.

“You are aware that I have tried to kill you, yes?”

A piercing silence.

It was true, unfortunately. Back when you were constantly doing jobs for Derek, an anonymous hire suddenly offered more than $80 million for you to assassinate him. Back then, you were marginally involved with Derek in an intimate setting. You worked for him as his executioner, and soon enough, your charm led to you sleeping together on several occasions and exchanging some sweet kisses and words, alongside the establishment of affectionate pet names. What hurt the most about it was that it was all authentic, his feelings and yours. However, you were weak and selfish and overall blinded with greed. Eighty million was drastically more than any amount you were ever hired with. So you took up the offer to assassinate President Jessica Danforth’s young, foolish son.

You were going to pull the trigger once your eyes locked on the target, but the second you did, you missed, causing severe lockdowns and the anticipated presence of the secret service. And when it all died down, Derek caught you with his own eyes as you attempted to escape, yet shockingly, he let you go. And you barely kept in contact ever again—until now.

“It—It doesn’t matter, Y/n, okay, I don’t see you pointing a gun at my head anymore, so it’s all in the past, alright?” He raised his glass to his lips, drinking the remaining bourbon (he preferred it more than scotch).

“Wh—? Okay, why the fuck are you so calm about it? I tried to kill you, don’t you understand that?” You stressed, continuing to frustratingly watch his nonchalant reaction to you.

He set his glass back down on the table, not even bothering to put it on the actual coaster, which was literally just about an inch away. “It’s because I know you, Y/n. I know that you’re the best fucking assassin I’ve ever hired and you never miss a shot. You’re, like, completely flawless at what you do. And because you’re that perfect at it, it amuses me that you missed when you had such a clear shot at me.” You glared at him as he spoke, plainly vexed.

“You were fucking afraid,” he continued, making you huff in disbelief. “You didn’t wanna kill me. Sure, eighty million seemed promising, but it didn’t live up to the sex and passionate admiration we had for each other. I trust you because I know now that if you were offered all the diamonds and golds in the entire fucking world, you still wouldn’t kill me for any of it.”

You hated how much this was true. You couldn’t kill him if you had the chance. Which was what mainly pissed you off, because he had to be the most annoying, arrogant, egotistical bastard you knew. And yet, you had a soft spot for him. And he had a soft spot for you. You were way too fond of him.

You sigh afterwards, knowing that he was completely right, whether you’d like it or not. “Well… Okay, do you trust me when I say that there is no guarantee that I’m coming back alive—”

“Goddamnit, Y/n, enough about this!” Derek interjected. “I trust that you’ll get the job done—”

“Danforth, I—”

“You know my name,” he snarled. “Use it.”

You groan impatiently, unabashed. “Okay, Derek, well as I said, The Beekeepers is a very elite organization. There is a reason why this guy was able to take down all your men at UDG—”

“It’s because they were fucking incompetent! You, howev—”

“Holy shit, Derek, just shut up for once!” You blurt. “If I don’t make it out alive, then what are you gonna do? Hm?”

“You’re… Y/n, you are going to make it out alive,” he grumbled, tired of your claims.

“Derek, I swear to fucking god—”

“If he fucking kills you, I’ll make sure to rain fucking hell on that bastard and the whole fucking Beekeeper organization itself. Okay?”

And it was clear that he was still so very fond of you.

You gave a slight chuckle, putting out your cigarette on a nearby ashtray. Your hands clasped together in front of you on the surface of the wooden desk, which was also presented in front of him. And so suddenly, Derek placed his hands over yours, lightly grazing the back of your hands and fingers with his fingertips and palms. It was comforting, to say the least, as well as nostalgic.

“I missed you,” you muttered softly, watching the two of your hands fidget with each other, soft, warm skin moving against coarse, cold skin.

“I’ve missed you too,” he mumbled, watching your hands on the table until he moved his eyes up to yours.

“You can deny it all you want, Derek, but I’m not going to get out of this alive or untouched,” you say in the silence of the room.

“I don’t want to believe that,” he simply replied, not wanting to accept the clear reality.

“Well, when you see my obituary in the papers, you’re gonna have to,” you articulate softly as his thumb rubs against yours.

He scoffs in disbelief. “As I said, you’re the best assassin I know. You can easily take out this stupid fucking asshole.” You nod modestly. “I’m serious!”

“Derek, are you trying to flatter me?” You raise an eyebrow with a light chuckle, watching his face gradually turn rosy.

“No, I’m—I’m just pointing out the fuckin’ facts,” he claimed.

“Well… Just in case this is going to be our last night together—”

“It’s not.”

“Well, hypothetically, if—”

“It’s not.”

“Derek!” You exclaim, laughing afterwards. “Just… All I want is for us to spend one night together, as if it’s our last. C’mon, Derek… Let me take care of you.”

It took a short while for him to process your proposal, until he gently held onto your hands to bring them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Okay. Fine,” he answered indifferently. However, you knew that he had a soft spot for you.

***

His gentle, soft lips moved with yours as his rough hands gripped your sides tenderly. It’s been months since you’ve been like this with him, extremely vulnerable with each other physically, ever since your attempt to assassinate him caused mere estrangement. Your back was against the cushiony mattress, your hands cupping his face as your tongue began to clash with his, nearly gracefully as the familiarity of his taste burdened your mouth. The nostalgia creeped behind your mind until it penetrated your brain, making you remember all the ways he used to touch you and pleasure you. But in this very moment, he and you were taking your time with each other. To feel the warm, soft skin against fingertips and fingernails that one another missed.

“You should’ve stopped this when I told you to,” you nearly whispered after you pulled away from his lips, while your eyes explored his hazel irises once again.

He seemed to have no care, or at least no reaction, tucking his head down to nip at your sensitive neck, leaving soft kisses along your throat. “My mom probably wouldn’t have won the presidential election without it,” he remarked, lips trailing up from your collarbone to your jaw.

You scoff silently, moving your hands behind his head to tangle his bleached curls in your fingers. “I’m sure she had it all under control. She’s a remarkable woman,” you reply, feeling his lips against yours again, feeling him tug on your bottom lip right before pulling away again.

“Sure, yes, but… you’ve seen the shitty stats… Without the money we earned, she probably wouldn’t be sitting cozy in the damn White House.” Derek was very persistent about his role and reasons for the continuous phishing scam.

“Well… It doesn’t even matter,” you sigh dismally. “You didn’t stop when I warned you, and now look, you’ve got a whole fucking Beekeeper after you.” Your voice was heavy in disappointment and shame. You couldn’t believe that your old lover would possibly meet his demise if you aren’t proficient enough in your mission.

“Y/n. C’mon. We’ve got it all under control,” he affirmed, pressing some reassuring kisses all over your face. “You just have to kill this one dickhead, and things will go back to the way they were.”

Your eyes meet again, feeling your heart race for a split second as you felt utterly captivated by his beauty and concealed love for you. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” you lamented under your breath.

The way his eyes gazed into yours had communicated something you never thought he would ever have: regret. “I know,” he mumbles as you kiss again, a more passionate and accelerated movement that you sensed was becoming intense.

He took off his blazer, throwing it somewhere down on the floor as you discard your jacket. The two of you could barely separate from each other for too long, so you would desperately kiss each time a new article of clothing is removed. You lift off your shirt and Derek goes down on you again to kiss at your neck once more, leaving hickeys on your collarbone and tracing his lips down to your chest. He looks up at you with affection, kissing your lips once again until he would remove his own shirt.

He cradled your face, crashing his lips onto your passionately, instantly moving his tongue with yours through parted lips. “Everything that we had…” you began in a small whisper between ardent kisses. “Was it all real? Or was it just a way for us to…. to blow off steam? To feel something?”

“No, no, no,” he breathed as you could feel his hand sensibly caress your bare sides. “You’re fucking everything to me.”

Essentially, you were terrified. You knew that eventually, you two were going to lose each other. That’s why you were taking time with this, making sure to not take even a millisecond for granted. And deep down, Derek knew that you were right and that there was no certain guarantee that you could kill the Beekeeper. So he cherished this moment with you. Because in the end, he really loves you.

It was never said out loud, but the two of you loved each other immensely. After years of knowing each other, working together, the ‘one-night-stands’ with ‘no strings attached,’ you two fell for each other faster than the bodies that you shot for him. You were practically the only person he could be stable and decent around. It was always seen through abruptly softened eyes at even the smallest mention of your name.

Once you two were completely naked, your bare bodies attached to each other throughout each deep kiss. His hands graciously moved up and down the skin of your waist as your fingers lost itself in his soft hair, bodies radiating warmth against the other.

His eyes locked with yours, and there was some kind of poignant, desperation in them, looking at you as if you were going to disappear the moment he looked away. “Promise me you’ll come back from this mission alive,” he commanded softly in the cold silence of the room.

“I’ve told you already, Derek,” you sigh wistfully. “He’s a few more steps ahead of me.”

There was something almost so pathetic and contradictory about his distraught mannerisms. “Then I give you full permission to abort,” he proposed, “when things get too risky. If you seriously think you’re going to get killed, then forget about the entire fucking mission, forget about me, okay?”

“You know I can’t do that.” You stroke his hair tenderly between your fingertips, pushing his curls away from disorder. “It’s either go with the mission or not at all. There’s no point in getting myself into deep shit just to abort.”

The man sighed as he knew you were right, again. But also… “I don’t care,” he blurts. “I don’t fucking care. You can go as far as you’d like with him, but when shit hits the fan, I need you to at least beg for mercy, get on your fucking knees if you have to. I need you to get out of the situation immediately, Y/n, okay? I can’t lose you. Shit, I can’t fucking lose you, okay, not again.”

Your heart sank.

He really did care for you.

“Do you love me?” You ask quietly.

The hesitation in his response would give the impression that he had to think about your question, but the truth was that he always knew—he always knew the answer. He loved you, indisputably.

“Yes,” he answered silently. Then, with more confidence, “I love you. I love you so much that I cannot afford to lose you. I can’t fucking lose you. I just got you back, you can’t leave me again.”

A small smile appeared at the corner of your lips. “I’m still here, my marmalade,” he shivered pleasantly at your use of your old, affectionate nickname for him. “And I love you too. All of me is here for you. That’s the point of all this.”

After a shared, enamored look, his lips attached to yours, and the two of you couldn’t help but whimper as you felt the aching head of his cock begin to enter you, already stretching you with his size. It wasn’t until his length was pushed fully inside you, making your breath hitch as the warm, complete feeling had sparked bittersweet memories of the two of you doing this together in the past. Most of the times they were faster-paced and rougher. But this? It was all foreignly vanilla to you; this was straight-up making love at its fibrous roots.

Your face was flushed, feeling tingly as he slowly began to move in and out, his hands hooked under your shoulders in a grip as you held his forearms, locking his legs down with your own. He kissed your lips softly, then down to your neck as his thrusts slowly increased, putting all his weight on you as your chests were pressed against each other.

The two of you let out soft moans once every overlapping feeling intensified, breath quickening every snap of Derek’s hips. You moved your hand to the back of his head, tangling his hair in your fingers again as you deepened the kiss, the two of you only parting to breathe.

“Fuck,” he rasped, sinking into you deeper. Your bodies were so close together, nearly merging as you felt each passionate thrust filling you up. “You feel as good as I remembered.” You let his head be buried into your neck as you felt him gently nip the skin, your fingers still wrapped in his curls and you let your eyes rest, completely indulging in the pleasure he offered. “You were right,” Derek breathed softly. “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You raise an eyebrow at his remark. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t even want you to do this job anymore. If I’m gonna die because I’ll end up not hiring you, then so be it,” Derek husked, continuing to move inside you, making your fleshy walls flutter in exhilaration. “At this point, I’d rather have me die than you.”

You stutter out a quiet moan as you feel his movements quicken. “Damn. The sex is that good?” You joked, letting out a breathy chuckle.

He rolled his eyes playfully and snickered lowly. “Yes, the sex is that good,” he reciprocated, mumbling in your lips as he thrusted artfully.

It was like he was no longer selfish with it anymore. Sure, the sex you had in the past with him had equally distributed pleasure, but you would find him focusing on his own release sometimes. However, in this very moment, you could tell that he moved generously and patiently, fucking you carefully—‘fucking,’ however, seemed like a more aggressive approach to describe what was happening, which was plainly the opposite of everything entirely; this was pure lovemaking.

You felt yourself tighten around him as he increases his pace, lips no longer focused on kissing you, but driving the two of you to your release. His cock pushed faster and deeper, in and out, his throat withdrawing stuttered, low grunts and loud, quick breaths. You felt a knot in your stomach, your gut stirring in anticipation. “F-fuck,” he murmured as you felt his hot breath on the side of your face. “Y/n, I’m close.”

Your desperate panting became louder as your legs locked down on his even tighter, threatening to bend further. He lifts his head back up to make eye contact with you, seeing the other’s heated faces and loving gaze. “M-me too, baby.”

He kissed your lips deeply once again, thrusting into you at a rhythm that began to falter, quickening with every soft moan you crooned, repeatedly muttering his name with yearn.

Your cries had crescendoed, hearing desperate, higher-pitched grunts escaping Derek’s pretty mouth, as your bodies stayed warm against each other, building sweat from the intensity’s heat. The sound of skin slapping against skin amplified, wet, squelching noises emitting from each fast action of slipping in and out. You felt an overwhelming feeling of pleasure, feeling yourself come closer to your orgasm as your thighs begin to twitch and body begin to ache. It’s almost like you can’t breathe, the way his length fills you up perfectly and caresses your walls sensually.

“D-Derek, I—” Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head, but you shut them once you feel your lips attached to his. “I’m—fuck—I’m cumming!” You announce, feeling the entirety of your body tense up, already feeling the sensitivity you would feel post-orgasm.

“Hold on, baby, just wait a little longer for me, that’s good, that’s it, fuck,” he breathed frantically, nearly praising your patience and obedience. Derek’s moans becomes louder, practically in unison with yours, and he moaned out your name passionately once the two of you finally came together. Your voice cracks as you call him, hips jolting as you release, feeling yourself become fragile once you clench around him more intensely, back nearly arching in ecstasy. With one last slam of his hips, he came deeply inside you, spilling his warm cum through enraptured and euphoric spurts, making yourself feel entirely filled as his hips remained against yours, cock still utterly inside of you.

The two of you caught your breaths, just to kiss each other again, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Because once all the euphoria slowly died down, you remembered the reality of everything: you or him were going to die at the hands of a compulsive vigilante, and not everything you had together was going to last forever.

His head was buried in your neck, placing lazy pecks on it as the two of you held each other comfortably and safely.

“I just got you back,” he muttered. You were the only person that Derek was the most vulnerable around. “I don’t want to lose you again. Please be careful.”

“You know me,” you reassure softly, disregarding everything you had warned him about. You knew you couldn’t stand a chance against this man. But you’d do it anyway, for Derek. “I’ve killed over fifty men throughout my entire job. I’ve got this.”

Suddenly, he remembered everything you said about the Beekeeper, and how you even doubted yourself and your abilities. “But, you said—”

“Forget what I said,” you interrupt. “I’ve got a real drive to kill him, okay, and that’s you. As long as I have you in my head, he doesn’t stand a chance.” You hated lying to him. But at this point, it wasn’t even about the five million dollars or him hiring you at that; it was about protecting him.

“Are you sure? Because you were very persistent—”

You shut him up with a sweet, deep kiss. “Don’t you worry about it, my marmalade. I’ll take care of it.” You lied straight through your tender, flushed lips that he kissed back.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[lottiecrabie]

hiii You know who this is can i please please please have cyosa mutual masturbation i lost so hard every time but once and you know you love meeeee 😇😇😇😇

this is for you🫵you know who you are. I love you🫶

‘matty…’ you moan, half as a beg and half as a mindless need. he chuckles, opening your thighs for him, putting you on display. you’re so ready you might take him right now. 

matty’s hand still dances on your thigh, working higher and higher. your breath hitches, anticipating the fateful meeting. he whispers, smirking, ‘how about you show me how you do it?’

your cheeks flame at the idea. you clench your thighs, trapping him in place, embarrassed. he doesn’t seem too bothered. he revels in prying them open again, grazing the ready skin until you’re squirming.

‘why would i when you’re right here?’ as if to convince him, you reach for his leftover hand, dragging it to a pert breast. he chuckles. his finger rolls the nipple and you sigh, still holding onto his wrist.

‘i want to see,’ he says. ‘i want to learn.’ you groan, half from pleasure and half from shyness. you hide in your shoulder, arching your back into his hand in contradiction. again, a laugh falls from him. ‘how about i show you too?’

your eyes snap to him, suddenly interested. he kneels up, towering over your parting frame. his hand makes quick work of his belt— quicker than your hungry, shaking ones could have done. he draws his cock out without any hesitation, holding it at the base. your breath dies in your throat. you freeze under him.

‘i’m already hard,’ matty says. ‘don’t even have to think about you cause you’re already laying there like a fucking daydream.’

you grin, spreading your legs further, giving him a show. a tortured groan rasps out his throat. ‘fuck, love, you’re gorgeous.’ he strokes himself once, swiping his thumb over the tip. you lick your lips, though you do not feel the need to reach out and do it yourself. you want to relish in the spectacle.

you get him, now. he knows this. says, ‘show me.’

you don’t feel as shy. your hand grabs his own, puppeteering him so he pinches and rolls your peaked nipples just right. a broken moan comes out of you. in turn, he strokes faster.

‘i don’t like the before,’ you choke out. ‘i’d rather just get to it.’ it’s all the warning you give him before you plunge your hand between your folds, circling your clit.

‘shit,’ matty cries. ‘you’re not real.’ you hum, pinching the skin of his wrist mischievously, reveling in his little yelp. ‘what do you think about?’

you shrug, non-committed. ‘i like my mind blank.’ matty tsks and shakes his head. you almost want to laugh, but your fingers hit a sinful spot and you’re too busy whining out.

‘you’re doing it wrong,’ he breathes. his hand is still hard at work on himself. he needs to frown in concentration to get his thought out. ‘the before, the imagination— that’s what it’s all about. you won’t get a mind-blowing orgasm if you don’t involve your mind.’

‘do it, then,’ you whimper. ‘mindblow me.’

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. ‘i didn’t expect you to be lazy.’ the challenge works and you set your eyes, competitiveness bubbling in your chest. vengefully, you dip two fingers inside, watching as he slows his rhythm in quiet wonder.

you thrust in and out, angling your fingers until your legs twitch mindlessly. your nails dig into his skin, and it’s not even to send any kind of message. he’s wrong about the mind. you masturbate to get you off— off that tyrannical ride your head leads ruthlessly. this, the hot euphoria beating in your veins, the quiet moans, the shivering limbs, is what it’s about.

‘i’ll tell you, then,’ matty says. he seems close, pumping his cock fast and certain. his chest rises and falls, the tattooed planes of his stomach in perfect display. you want to spread a hand over it, want to descend down and replace his hand, want to— you thumb your clit and stop wanting.

‘i think about you, all pretty and hot and needy. never this perfect, though. god, you’re really not real— like a fucking frosted cupcake, all sweet for me.’ the words fizzle up your chest. pleasure strikes through you, doubly so, and you cry his name in sheer shock.

matty continues, ‘i think about you in the library, bending you over until i erase that little worried frown you have. make you suck my fingers so you keep quiet still. don’t want to get banned— still need you to ride my cock on those big chairs after all.’

‘oh, god,’ you whine. you rub your clit furiously, eyes rolling back, seemingly astral projected to the library. your lips part in quiet worship. ‘more,’ you beg him.

matty pinches your nipple, forcing you to look at him. ‘your turn.’

you pant, trying to use your brain when your fingers are deep and quick inside of you, when he’s hanging off with that swoopy hair over his forehead and those dark, hungry eyes. you’re drunk on the mere sight of him, and you start fearing how he’ll affect you when he’s the one thrusting inside you.

‘i—‘ your legs kick, helpless. ‘sometimes when we watched movies, i’d think about you eating me out on the couch.’

matty groans, scrunching his eyes like he’s imagining it. ‘yeah? what’d i do?’

‘just— you’d kneel in front of me, and you’d tell me to pay attention, and then you’d do it. devour me like you were starved. shush me when i got too loud, remind me to watch my smart, pretentious film.’

another broken cry slips out of him. he falls over you, though still holding himself up with an arm. your now free hand spread over his ribs, back, anything your greediness can find. both your fingers work in tandem between your bodies, a quiet union you’ve just now noticed. you roll your head, hit his wrist. ‘matty…’

‘i thought about you asking me to fuck you before,’ matty admits offhandedly, lost in his pleasure. your fingers press into his working shoulder, mean. ‘fuck, i almost believed i was imagining when you really did ask me. figured i was going crazy.’

you twist your head, kissing his wrist over and over, tiny presses of love you don’t dare say. your tongue sticks out and licks it all up before it stays and means something. ‘again,’ you moan, feeling yourself get closer. your hips rise for your strained digits. your body hums in warning.

‘i want to come on your stomach. want to mark your skin— god, need it. need to see you all pretty with my cum, make you all messy. show you’re mine.’

‘matty,’ you scream, pumping your fingers just right.

’need to see you come, too. break apart so you’re not so perfect. my pristine, pretty girl, drooling for me, screaming my name, working those little fingers…’

‘fuck—‘

‘you’re doing so well for me,’ he promises. his hand has lost any sense of regular rhythm, pumping with desperate abandon instead. ‘just like i though,’ he says, full of wonder. he seems so gone you’d figure he’s all in his head, but matty stares at you like he could lick up the frost off the cupcake. ‘of course you’d listen. of course you’d do just i say.’

‘fuck, i need—‘ it’s on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t get to say, a shattering orgasm taking you instead.

you open your jaw and dig your teeth in matty’s wrist, biting down the yells as waves of pure ecstasy shake through you. your head, never quite unattached before, blanks with the force of pleasure. you say his name, you think. or maybe not. in the end, you don’t think at all, and it is glorious.

matty’s close after you, screaming out your name shamelessly. the ropes of white cum hit your stomach and he draws out his last trembles before he falls atop you with a sigh.

your head’s all fuzzy as you lay there. ‘oh,’ you finally say once you regain speech. you trace a finger over his back, staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. oh, this is what it’s supposed to be.

‘yeah,’ matty murmurs in your hair. because he understands, of course he does. your lungs feel full and heavy.

he finally rises and you catch a glance to the mess between your two bodies. the cum is painted over both of your stomach. though matty doesn’t even bother wiping it off before he smirks, kissing down your sternum. his eyes flash up at you, full of mischief. ‘so you want me to eat you out, huh?’

[hells-wasabii]

A/N: no one really requested this, but the idea popped into my head. It’s been sitting on my master list in the in progress status but I literally only just got to it, wanted to get more reqs done before I jumped into other stuff

Character: Velvette

Type: Drabble (Velvette X fem!reader NSFW, Smut)

Warning! NSFW ahead under the cut!!!

A lazy grin rose to Velvette’s lips as her hips met yours with a satisfying ‘clap’, reinstating a steady rhythm once more.

“C’mon, babes, I know you have another in you.” Her words were accentuated by another particularly deep thrust of the silicone member. It nearly left you seeing stars. Any answer you might have had died on your tongue, instead replaced by needy moans.

Your whines were met by a throaty chuckle, black-tinted lips meeting your throat. The kiss was naturally followed by another bite. Tears pricked your eyes as more explicits rolled off your tongue, hands vying for purchase, leaving behind scratches along the long expanses of exposed of her back. Your nails had already long since broken skin, something that only served to spur the overlord prior.

You had already unraveled twice now, you weren’t sure you even could a third time. But Velvette seemed sure you could. The influencer certainly had a way of pushing your limits.

God, did it feel good. There was no denying that your lover knew exactly what she was doing. Every kiss, every bite, every touch had a purpose.

As if to prove that point her thumb found your clit, rubbing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. She didn’t want to send you over the edge again just yet. She wanted to hear more of the desperate noises from you, but she knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

Finally all at once you came undone, your hold on Velvette tightened. You cried out into her shoulder. Weakly, you let go, your body sinking into the bed. With ragged breaths you opened your eyes to find your lover staring down at you, eyes clouded with lust.

The overlord nearly felt bad as she took in the sight of you splayed across the mattress, the sheets positively ruined. But any lament she may have had was quickly washed away by the pride that settled in her chest. She couldn’t help it, really. You just looked so pretty left in a haze and covered in marks.