#it feels nice to take a break from studying

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hi ivy baby! congrats on 2k you deserve every follow!

I was hoping to req a teddy dust? 🧸

charceter: regulus black, prompt: “why do you always pull this shit?” from prompt list angst number 2?

thank you! and again congrats!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ a nod

synopsis: ever since you got with regulus, you've known he misses sirius—no matter how much he denies it. you never push too hard, never force it, but tonight, one word too many turns soft touches into sharp edges. you leave. hours later, he knocks content warnings: angst, arguments, avoidance, hurt/comfort, soft ending author's note: hi darling!! 🧸ྀི thank you so much you're so sweet! keep your heart ready for some ache & softness!! mwah ‹𝟹 nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᡣ𐭩 words.ᐟ 731

Regulus is warm beneath you, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that lulls you into a quiet kind of peace. Your fingers slip through his hair, slow and rhythmic, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp. He sighs at the feeling, his grip around your waist tightening just a fraction, like he wants to keep you anchored there, pressed against him, where nothing else can reach him.

The room is dimly lit, the candles on the bedside table flickering soft shadows against the walls. It feels safe here, untouched by the outside world, untouched by the ghosts that linger at the edges of Regulus’ thoughts.

Until you speak. Until you break the silence.

“I saw Sirius today.”

His body goes still beneath you.

Your fingers falter for only a second, but he feels it—of course he does. He always does.

Regulus doesn’t move, doesn’t push you away, but the warmth between you shifts, replaced by something cold, something bracing. “And?” His voice is controlled, careful. But you hear the tension beneath it, the way his words tighten around something unsaid.

You take a slow breath. “He asked about you.”

A sharp exhale through his nose. “That’s nice.”

You close your eyes for a second, gathering your thoughts, choosing your words carefully. “Reg,” you whisper, “he misses you.”

His fingers twitch where they rest against your back, and for the first time since you spoke, he looks at you. His grey eyes are dark, unreadable, a storm brewing beneath the surface. “Why do you always pull this shit?” His voice is sharp, but there’s no real anger behind it, only exhaustion.

Your heart clenches. “Because I love you.” The words slip out in a breath, soft but certain.

He swallows, jaw tightening. “Love has nothing to do with this.”

You sit up now, fully looking at him, refusing to let him slip away. “Love has everything to do with this,” you say, firmer now. “I know it’s complicated, Reg, I know it’s not easy, but you’re not—” You pause, gathering your words. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

His gaze flickers, a split second of vulnerability before the mask slips back into place. “I don’t need your help.”

You shake your head, heart aching. “I don’t believe you.”

Regulus exhales, running a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping at the strands like they might keep him grounded. “I need to be alone,” he mutters, and this time, there’s something final in his tone.

You study him, searching his face for any sign that he might change his mind. But his walls are up again, shutting you out.

So you nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Okay.”

And then you leave.

The hours stretch long and quiet.

You try to sleep, but the bed is cold without him. The space beside you feels empty, like something is missing, like something was torn away too suddenly. The weight of your conversation lingers, pressing heavy against your chest, making it impossible to breathe properly.

Then—

A knock.

You hesitate for only a second before pulling open the door.

Regulus stands there, bathed in silver light, the moon catching the edges of his sharp features. He looks tired, his hair slightly messier than before, as if he’s been running his hands through it over and over again. His lips part, and for a moment, he doesn’t speak. He just looks at you, something fragile and uncertain in his expression.

Then, quietly— “I nodded at Sirius today.”

You blink, breath catching.

Regulus shifts on his feet, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I saw him,” he continues, voice softer now, hesitant. “And I nodded.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “And he nodded back.”

A breath shudders out of you, something warm blooming in your chest, gentle and aching all at once. You reach for him slowly, giving him a chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

Instead, he steps forward, letting you wrap your arms around him, letting himself sink into you, just a little. His forehead presses against your shoulder, and you feel him exhale, shaky and uneven.

You smile against his temple, pressing a soft kiss there. “I’m proud of you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, but his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, and you know. You know this is the start of something new.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[sparkleyun]

7 minutes in heaven

pairing: jake x fem!reader genre: fluff, highschool au synopsis: After weeks of burying yourself in textbooks, your best friend has had enough. She insists you take a break and drags you to a party thrown by her and a few of her other friends. You’re skeptical at first, since parties aren’t really your thing, but you find yourself actually enjoying the night. That is, until he walks in. The guy who’s made your life miserable all year. The one who never misses a chance to tease you. wc: 2.4k warnings: Jake teases reader for being uptight and a "nerd", alcohol, Jake redemption arc basically

"Come on, you can’t seriously be saying no again."

Your best friend is sprawled across your bed, her head hanging off the edge as she stares at you with an exaggerated pout. You don’t look up from your notes, but you can feel the weight of her gaze.

"I have a chemistry exam next week." you reply, flipping a page in your textbook for dramatic effect.

She groans, dramatically rolling onto her stomach and burying her face in your pillow.

"You always have a chemistry exam, or an essay, or some other reason to close yourself off and forget what fun is."

You frown but don’t respond. However, she doesn't stop there. She props herself up on her elbows, eyes narrowing.

"You know what your problem is?"

"Oh, I’m sure you’re about to tell me." You mutter, playing with your pen as you agonizingly await her answer.

"You don’t do anything," she declares, flinging her arms out like this is some major revelation. "You just study and go to school, and come home and study more. When’s the last time you had an actual conversation with someone who wasn’t a teacher or me?"

You open your mouth, then pause. You were unable to answer her question, which unfortunetly meant she was right.

"Exactly. Which is why you’re coming to this party tonight." she says with a proud grin plastered across her face.

You scoff. "Yeah, no. Not happening."

"Yes, happening." She rolls onto her side, supporting her head up with her hand. "It’s just a party, not a death sentence. You go, you loosen up, maybe even talk to a cute guy"

You shoot her a glare.

"Fine, fine." She waves you off. "But at least let yourself have fun. You deserve a break."

You hesitate. You really don’t want to go, but she knows you too well. She’s persistent, you're compliant, and she always gets her way eventually.

She starts listing all the things she’ll do in exchange: buying you coffee for a week, finishing your half of a group project, doing your laundry, etc. Exhausted by her antics, you finally cave.

"One hour," you say, closing your textbook with a sigh. "And if it sucks, I’m leaving."

She grins like she’s just won the lottery. "Deal."

───

The party is already in full swing by the time you arrive. The house is packed with people, and the music is playing so loudly that you can feel the bass vibrating in your chest. They are everywhere, spilling out onto the front lawn and swaying to the beat of whatever playlist is blasting through the speakers inside.

You hesitate at the entrance. This isn’t your usual scene. Crowds, noise, chaos- it’s the opposite of the structured, predictable and quiet world you are used to.

"Stop overthinking it," says your friend, linking her arm through yours. "I swear, you’re gonna have fun."

You let her pull you inside, where the air reeks of alcohol. The energy is infectious though, and despite being outside of your comfort zone, you start to loosen up.

After a few introductions (most of which you forgot immediately), you manage to carve out a comfortable spot in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a soda can in your hand. Surprisingly, you’re enjoying yourself more than you expected. You’re still not a party person, but it’s nice to let go for a while, to watch the chaos from a safe distance and not worry about exams or deadlines.

Then, just as you start thinking this might not be so bad, your stomach drops.

Jake is standing near the pool table, laughing with his group of friends.

Your body freezes and your heart begins to race. No, no, no. This isn’t happening. Out of all the people in the world, why does he have to be here?

He hasn’t seen you yet, but that doesn’t stop the familiar wave of irritation and, if you’re being honest, a little bit of panic, from crashing over you the moment you realized he was there. Jake, your personal pesterer, the guy who has spent the entire year making you miserable. He’s always got a sharp comment ready, always looking for ways to get under your skin. And now, somehow, he’s here, in the same space, at the same party as you.

Your first instinct is to disappear. Maybe you can blend into the crowd, maybe-

Too late.

His eyes land on you.

You watch in real time as he recognizes your face, followed by something else. A quick curl of his lips into that infuriatingly familiar smirk.

"Well, well," he drawls, abandoning his friends and making his way towards you. "Didn’t expect to see you here."

Your grip tightens around your drink.

"Didn’t expect to be here." you mutter, shifting your weight as he stops in front of you. He looks effortlessly relaxed, dressed in a way that makes it clear he belongs here, like he was made for this kind of scene. Meanwhile, you feel like an imposter.

He tilts his head, his smirk deepening. "So, what happened? Library closed down?"

You roll your eyes. "Wow, you must’ve been saving that one all year."

He chuckles, clearly amused by your growing impatience. "I gotta admit, I’m kind of impressed. Didn’t even think you knew what a party was."

You glare at him, but before you can snap back, your friend suddenly appears at your side, looking between the two of you with an arched brow. "Everything okay?"

Jake doesn’t even glance at her. His focus is still on you, eyes fixated on your nervous figure, despite your attempts to retort.

"Oh, we’re just catching up," he says smoothly.

"Yeah, more like trying to ruin my night" you mutter under your breath.

He grins. "Now, now. I didn't do anything besides try to have a pleasant conversation."

"Are you kidding me?" you muttered under your breath.

Without thinking, you grabbed your best friend by the wrist and pulled her towards a quieter corner of the room.

"Whoa, what was that about?" she yelped.

"Why is he here?" you hissed, jerking your head in Jake’s direction.

She blinked, following your gaze. "Who?"

"Who do you think?"

When she spotted him, a look of realization crossed her face.

"Ohhh, him? Yeah, I invited him."

You gaped at her. "Are you actually insane?"

"Relax," she said, waving a hand. "He’s friends with a bunch of people here. I didn’t think it’d be a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" You stared at her in disbelief. "He makes my life miserable, and you invited him?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, y/n. He teases you, yeah, but it’s harmless. He’s actually kinda fun if you get to know him."

"I don’t want to get to know him."

"Well, too late," she said, nudging you playfully. "You’re at the same party. Might as well make the best of it."

You exhaled sharply, resisting the urge to throttle her.

Just then, as if the universe was conspiring against you, Jake glanced back in your direction. The second your eyes met, his lips curled into that infuriating smirk once again.

"So" he drawled, making his way toward you. "You didn’t think I’d see you here, huh?"

Your grip tightened on your best friend’s arm.

"Look, can you just let me have this?" The frustration in your voice clearly displayed. "I don’t want to deal with you tonight."

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling into that all too familiar smirk. "Wow, I didn’t know you were so desperate for a night off from me. I must really be living rent free in that head of yours."

You shoot him a sharp glare, but to your surprise, he just chuckles, raising his hands in a mocking surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you sulk in peace for now."

With one last glance, he turns around, meeting his friends and disappearing into the crowd, leaving you exhaling in relief, but your body still tense.

───

You’ve been at the party for over an hour now, and to your own shock, you’re not hating it, even after the small encounter. Your best friend was right. Getting out of the house for once wasn’t the worst decision. You even found yourself relaxing a little, laughing at jokes, sipping your soda, and, of course, avoiding Jake as much as possible.

Unfortunately, your luck runs out when someone shouts over the music.

"We’re playing seven minutes in heaven! Everyone get in a circle!"

Your stomach twists. No, absolutely not. No way.

You immediately shake your head and turn to your friend. "Nope. Not happening."

"Oh, come on," she groans. "It’s just a game!"

"Yeah, a game where people get shoved into a closet together for seven minutes," you point out."That sounds like my personal hell."

She rolls her eyes. "You don’t even have to do anything. Half of the time people just talk. It’s just for fun."

You’re still not convinced. You’re about to make a run for it when a hand suddenly lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"Oh, you’re definetly playing"

You already know who it is before you even turn around. Jake stands behind you, looking infuriatingly amused.

"I am not playing," you insist.

"She is!" your friend calls, betraying you in an instant.

Before you can argue, someone grabs your wrist and drags you toward the circle. You shoot a desperate glare at your best friend, who only grins and mouths "you’ll thank me later".

Doubt it.

With a pained sigh, you lower yourself onto the floor. The circle is filled with laughter and excitement. Most people are already whispering about who they hope to get. Meanwhile, you sit stiffly, arms crossed, willing yourself to become invisible.

"Alright," someone announces, shaking a hat filled with slips of paper. "Ladies first!"

One by one, people take turns drawing a name and disappearing into a nearby closet. You silently hope the game will be over before it gets to you, but of course, life isn’t kind like that.

Eventually, the hat is passed to you.

You hesitate. You knew that if you refused now, you’ll just draw more attention to yourself. Sighing, you reach inside and pull out a folded slip of paper. For a brief, hopeful moment, you pray it’s someone harmless.

Then, you unfold it, and your stomach drops.

Jake Sim

Your breath hitches as you stare at the name, hoping it would magically change. Maybe if you blink enough times, you’ll see someone else’s name instead.

No such luck.

"Who’d you get?" someone asks eagerly.

You open your mouth to lie, to make up a name, but before you can, he leans forward, plucking the paper right out of your hands. His laughter is immediate.

"Well, this is going to be interesting."

You glare at him, heart pounding. "I’ll pick again."

"That’s not how it works." someone protests.

"C’mon, rules are rules." Jake chimes in.

You clench your jaw. He’s still looking at you, waiting, enjoying this far too much.

"Fine." you snap. "Let’s get this over with."

Someone cheers as you push yourself up, and before you know it, you’re being ushered towards a small coat closet. He follows you at a relaxed pace, as if this is all just another way for him to mess with you.

The second the door closes behind you, you cross your arms tightly over your chest and sit down on the floor, determined to count down the minutes in silence.

For a while, that’s exactly what happens. Neither of you speak. The only sounds are the muffled bass of the party outside and the occasional distant noise of people speaking.

Then, predictably, he breaks the silence.

"You’re taking this way too seriously."

You don’t respond.

"What? Are you afraid of being alone with me?" he teases.

"No." you mutter.

"You sure? Because you’re standing all the way over there like I’m contagious."

You scowl. "Maybe you are."

He chuckles, amused. "Damn."

Silence again.

Then, softer this time, he speaks as he bends down to sit at your level "You really don’t like me, huh?"

You look away, your throat tightening. "What gave it away?" you say in a sarcastic tone

He sighs. "Look, I know I mess with you a lot. But it’s not that serious."

Suddenly, something in you snaps.

"Not that serious?" you echo, your voice rising. "You humiliate me every chance you get. You make fun of me in front of everyone. You act like I’m some kind of joke- like I’m beneath you. So yeah, it kind of is that serious."

The words spill out before you can stop them. Your voice is thick, emotions bubbling to the surface all at once. You didn’t realize how much had built up until now.

He doesn’t respond right away, but when he finally does, his voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

"I didn’t think it actually bothered you."

You scoff. "Of course it bothers me."

There’s a pause. Then, unexpectedly, he says, "I’m sorry."

You blink in disbelief. "What?"

He exhales. "I mean it. I didn’t think- I just thought it was fun, you know? I didn’t realize I was actually hurting you."

You look at him, really look at him, and before you can process it, there’s a shift in the air. The small space between you two seems to shrink, his apology hanging heavy in the air, dense with unspoken feelings. Your pulse suddenly quickens.

Then, he reaches out.

Your body freezes as his fingers brush against your wrist, the touch barely there. You should pull away, you should, but for some reason, you don’t.

"I didn’t mean to make you feel like that," he murmurs. "I swear."

Your throat tightens. "Then why do it?"

His fingers curl slightly around your wrist, hesitant. His voice is almost too quiet to hear.

"Because it was the only way I knew how to get your attention."

Your heart stops. The space between the two of you shrinks, and something shifts in your chest.

Before you can process it, the door suddenly swings open.

"Time’s up!"

Light floods the tiny space, and you both flinch. Laughter erupts from the crowd outside, but you’re too disoriented to play along.

You step out first, heartbeat hammering in your ears. Jake follows closely behind, his expression unreadable.

"Well?" Your friend asks eagerly. "What happened?"

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

You’re still reeling, still processing the fact that everything between you and Jake abruptly changed.

Because he apologized.

Because he meant it.

Because for the first time ever, you don't hate him at all.

a/n: this is my first ever fanfic so I hope it's good ( ◜ᗢ◝ ) if this post does well I might post a part 2!!

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 13

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

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Chapter 13

You hurried up the stairs of your complex, a dark cloud swirling overhead. The elevator stopped working that morning, meaning you had to scale seven flights to get to your apartment. Class wrapped for the day, but your philosophy professor wanted to be a bigger ass than usual and threw a pop quiz in your face. You were sure you failed, which was the last thing you needed this close to the end of the semester. You couldn’t even share a harried look with Steph because you stopped talking to her to focus on your studies. A decision you were now beginning to regret, but you tried to hold firm.

In conclusion, you were going through it, and you wanted nothing more than to sink into your couch and binge-watch Bridgerton for the umpteenth time.

As you reached the landing on your floor, you paused, noting the package that awaited you outside your door—a small, unassuming brown box.

Huh.

You didn’t order anything.

Upon closer inspection, it seemed legitimate with the appropriate shipping labels and all that jazz, but you didn’t survive this city without being at least a little wary of pleasant surprises.

It was heavier than you expected. Something you took mental note of as you tucked it under your arm and headed inside. While it could be an explosive or trap sent by a gang or super villain, you hoped they had bigger fish to fry than a college student on the cusp of a mental breakdown.

And at this point, a small part of you welcomed the sweet release of death if it meant you didn’t have to take your finals next week.

You settled cross-legged on your couch, turning the package over in your hands as you tried to guess what it contained. Its contents shifted slightly, and you still had all your limbs intact, so you took that as a good sign.

Sparing yourself the suspense, you ripped it open. A leather book tied with a cord sat on top, unmarked saved for the braided border etched on its cover. Next to it sat an ebony fountain pen with vials of ink. A small smile flitted across your face as you removed the journal, flipping through its pages to appreciate the rough texture of the pages. It was almost too nice to write in.

Beneath it, sat two more books. On Writing by Stephen King, and a collector’s edition of Les Misérables by Victor Hugo. You appreciated the first as a good resource for your upcoming submission, but your attention snagged on the latter. Its deep blue cover looked expensive with gold-pressed fleurs dis lis along its border. You flipped it open to the first page, noting that it was written in French. Somehow, you knew it would be.

A handwritten note sat at the bottom of the empty box.

You’re doing well. I chose you for a reason. Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not for my sake. Take a break from the letters and enjoy the holidays. You’ve earned it.

—Your Dear Daddy Long Legs

Your skin pebbled with the twist in your gut, simultaneously too cold and too hot. You laughed, because you couldn't decide what else to do in that moment. Gifts were one thing, expected even from a man who had plenty of money to spare, but a few words of encouragement and the joining of an inside joke... that was priceless and exactly what you needed right now.

Writing letters had quickly lost its appeal once you started double and triple guessing every word that went onto the page. Life had gotten in the way, so you distanced yourself from your new friends to focus on your studies. You assumed you made the right choice, but it only succeeded in making you feel more isolated. With the end of your first semester looming, you wondered if you’d made a terrible mistake by taking his money.

Bruce Wayne clearly didn’t care about you or your struggles, especially after never receiving a response to your frantic letter apologizing for your misstep.

But maybe you’d been a little too quick to judge.

Your laughter died on a wheeze as tears gathered in your eyes, hot and searing, relieved you hadn’t fucked this up. It wasn’t often the actions of billionaires brought you to tears, and happy tears at that. Hah. You wanted to laugh and sob and scream. Perhaps, an ugly combination of all three. A weight you’d carried over the last few weeks lifted, and you could finally breathe a little easier.

He wanted you to be yourself.

Your paranoia could settle, and you could finally enjoy life instead of sitting around and waiting for him to pull the plug on your academic pursuits.

Grabbing your new journal, you headed for the window. Ice and gray-flecked snow gathered on the grate outside. You sat on the small bench inside your apartment and cracked the window, relishing the chilly Gotham night. As you considered how best to christen your new journal, you heard the pop and drag of a grappling gun. Everyone from Gotham had come to recognize the call of an incoming vigilante.

Your gaze snapped toward the sky, searching the rooftops for the telltale smear of red on the black canvas of night.

Several seconds passed, the air thick with tension before you saw him. A speck of red landed on a roof two blocks down. Red Hood bolted, swallowed by the shadows before you fully realized you’d spotted him. You squashed the urge to call out to him.

Catching a glimpse of him every now and again was enough, you tried to reason with yourself. Knowing that if you ever ran into trouble again, Hood might be the one to save you was enough.

You almost believed yourself this time too.

To avoid the temptation of watching the sky, you retreated further inside with your journal. You sat cross-legged on your couch, anticipation buzzing through your veins as you tried to focus on the blank page. Much to your chagrin, words were harder to come by with your attention drifting back to the window every few seconds.

A distraction—that’s what you needed.

You turned on the TV, resuming where you left off in your rewatch of Bridgerton. It wasn’t long before you caught your attention straying toward the window once more. You groaned and laid out flat on the couch so you couldn’t see the window at all.

When he decided to grace you with his presence was outside your control. You knew that. The only logical step was to focus on something you could control. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through a slew of unread texts. Your thumb hovered over the picture Steph had uploaded. One of her posing with Cass after one of their self-defense classes.

She tried texting.

She tried calling.

You never answered.

She had every right to ignore you now if she wanted to, but it was worth a shot. You clicked the ‘call’ button and raised the phone to your ear. At the very least, you could leave a voicemail. Steph deserved an apology, even if she never wanted to speak to you again.

The call connected after two rings. “My horoscope has never led me wrong. It told me to expect an unexpected call today.”

You struggled to contain your smile. At least you could count on Steph to remain consistent in these trying times. “If you expected it, can it be unexpected?”

“Psh. Begone with your logic. So, does this call mean you want to be my friend again?”

You had the decency to act sheepish. “I know it was shitty of me, to disappear. I just...” There was no real justification for your actions, and you didn’t try to explain yourself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have cut you out like that. I was in my head, and if you want to tell me to pound sand, be my guest. But, if you’re amendable to an alternative, I would like to grab lunch tomorrow and catch up.”

Her phone crackled as she readjusted her phone, quiet save for a small hum of contemplation. You held your breath as you waited.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I am,” you answered honestly, “I got the pep talk I needed.”

You could hear the smile in her voice as she said, “Good. Though, for the record, I’ve been known to give a pretty stellar pep talk myself. You could have come to me. I love telling people how great they are.”

She also loved devastating people with a single, well-aimed slight. You’d seen it for yourself on several occasion but thankfully had never been on the receiving end. Steph truly was a woman of multitudes.

You laughed despite yourself. “I’m getting used to friends. Sad, I know, but I panicked and this was the result. I am sorry. I’d like to make it up to you. Lunch is on me.”

“Ew, keep your money. I just want to hang out and talk shit about Dr. Edwin. I mean, can you believe he had the gall to throw a pop quiz at us? It's a philosophy class for fuck's sake? I wasn't even aware there were tests," she groaned before quickly adding, "You can also tell me about this life-changing pep talk while we’re at it.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. If she knew it came from Bruce Wayne, you’d never live it down. “Just a friend.”

“I thought you didn’t have friends?”

“Do you want to hang out or not?”

“Hm, suspicious,” she said with a sniff, “I’ll drop it for now, but we will talk about this tomorrow. Can I invite Cass? She missed you too.”

“Yeah, that sounds gr—”

Several things happened in that moment.

You heard the pop of a grappling gun.

Something large hit your fire escape.

A voice, warped by modulation, groaned.

Your heart lurched.

It couldn’t be...

“Hey? You still there?” Steph’s voice dragged you back.

“I—yeah, I’m here. Someone—I gotta go. I’ll text your tomorrow.” You hung up before Steph could respond and sat up.

Red Hood ambled to his feet, outlined by the flickering streetlamp outside. He rolled his shoulder experimentally, another round of colorful curses crackling from his mask.

“Hood?”

He froze.

Slowly, his attention shifted to where you perched on the couch, then toward the TV. You followed his gaze. Daphne Bridgerton hung off a ladder as Simon's hands disappeared beneath her dress. He pressed searing, open-mouthed kisses to her exposed throat, their moans heavy and loud in the silence that stretched on.

Your eyes widened as you hurried to turn down the volume, to turn it off, anything to spare you from the mortification of explaining the plot of Bridgerton to him.

The screen went black, and you whipped around to face him. “I—”

“I preferred Anthony’s season.”

Your brain turned a little fuzzy. “You’ve... you’ve seen it?”

“Out of morbid curiosity. Nothing more.”

The lie was far from convincing, but he stared back, daring you to call him on his bluff. You let it go because you had yet to fully accept that he was here, talking to you. He crouched to speak with you through your window. It was a sight to behold, his shoulders comically wide for the frame.

You stepped toward him, fearing moving too quickly might scare him off. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a while.”

That much was obvious. “It has.”

His fingers flexed around your windowsill, his leather gloves squeaking softly. Neither spoke. You waited, but he seemed reluctant to say anything more. That meant it fell to you to fill the empty air.

“Did you want to come in?”

It was smarter not to let him in. This was more than enough. No need to be selfish. And yet, you offered anyway.

He nodded and said, “Sure.”

Shoving the window up, he managed to squeeze inside, grunting softly as he rolled his shoulder again. You stepped forward to meet him halfway, nearly touching him now, but not quite closing the distance.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I, uh...” He stood a little straighter. “I fell just now.”

Another silence wrought with tension settled. You glanced around your apartment, wishing you’d known he would appear so you could have tidied up a bit. His attention, however, didn’t stray from you. It sat like a weight on your chest, pressing the air from your lungs.

After months of nothing, his presence shouldn’t have affected you the way it did, but your body fizzled with anticipation. Your hand fell back to your side. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“I wanted to see you.”

He recoiled, and you imagined that was something he meant to keep to himself. Still, his confession hung in the air between you, waiting for you to do something with it. He stayed rooted to the floor, not even the crackle of his breaths passing through his modulator.

You broke away from him as you considered your next move. You imagined what this meeting would be like. What you would say? How he would respond? Reality was far more daunting. Hesitantly, you turned to the small collection of books organized at the foot of your bed.

One chance.

You had to make this count.

Pulling three from the lowest shelf, you turned to face him once more. “I realize I don’t know anything about you.”

He didn’t correct you.

You pressed on, “I also realize that it’s probably safer that way considering who you are and the life you lead.”

Again, nothing.

Closing the distance once more, you offered him the stack. He reached for them, though you couldn’t tell if it was a deliberate choice or simply reactional. He released a shuddering breath that rippled through his modulator—the only indication that his brain hadn’t completely shut off.

Before you lost the nerve, you continued, “I read the Emily Wilson translation of The Odyssey. I know that feels like a lifetime ago, but I think it helped me understand the man who hides behind the mask a little better.” You looked at him in earnest as you fiddled with the strings on your yellow hoodie. “Our favorite books can say a lot about a person’s character. I wanted to share a few of my favorites with you too. Maybe this is how we can get to know each other without sharing too much.”

You waited for him to say something.

Anything.

Seconds passed, each more constricting than the last. This was the most vulnerable you’d been in a while. You’d hoped for a little more of a reaction, though it was difficult to know what was happening under that damn helmet. Your fingers twitched at your side as the silence stretch on between you.

You cracked first. “I’m sorry if this is weird, I just thought—”

He handed the books back to you, effectively shutting you up. You knew outright rejection was a possibility but experiencing said rejection was much worse. Your throat tightened as you fought back whatever knee jerk reaction clawed at your chest.

Once more, you were caught staring at each other, the space between you cavernous and achingly cold. Your grip tightened around the books, half-tempted to chuck them at his head.

How dare he come here.

How dare he toy with your emotions.

He could have stayed away.

He stepped toward the window. “I need to go.”

You didn’t stop him when he ducked through the window and shot into the night. Numbness quickly settled in his wake, soothing the sting of rejection as you set the books on your table and drifted listlessly back to your couch.

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

A/N: Let me take a second to thank those of you who have taken the time to read and comment. It means a lot, and brightens my day whenever I get a notification! I hope you enjoy the ride.

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@bungunz @emu-lumberjack @goldendistrict

[cynicalmusings]

i’m kind of tempted to write a series of little anecdotes of socrates!reader interacting with each amphoreus cast member and just… either winding them up or confusing the hell out of them until the characters give up and leave the conversation.

mydei is the easiest to frustrate, and about three minutes into the discussion, he’s just like “i don’t care about this. go away before i want to punch you,” and goes off.

phainon is initially willing to have a discussion—it couldn’t hurt that much, right?—before regretting it severely. to do him justice, he fares relatively well, but after ten to fifteen minutes he has to leave (1) he has no idea what’s going on anymore and (2) he feels a crushing existential crisis coming on which he would rather suffer through in privacy (which is to say he breaks down from existential dread the moment he leaves your line of sight).

tribbie doesn’t get angry, but they’re another one who gets a touch confused. they get both the others in on it, too, and by the end you’ve got the whole group being like “…we’re sorry, we don’t think we can do this anymore” and flying off. they’re pretty polite and honest about what they don’t understand, though, which you appreciate.

castorice, having studied at the grove, has some background in this kind of thing, and she keeps up with the debate pretty well. when she doesn’t understand something, she’ll be open about it and ask you to clarify, making for a good conversation partner. she also strikes me as a pretty patient type, so she won’t lose her temper or anything while you get very particular in your arguments, either. i feel like the main reason she would call off the discussion is because she needs more time to think about how to respond to something you’ve said (and the constant interchange has probably tired her out a little, too).

hyacine is pretty honest from the get-go that philosophy isn’t an area she has much direct experience with, but because she’s nice and doesn’t want to let you down, she’s happy to go along with it. she gets a little emotion when you question her about why life is meaningful and whether it’s really worth inconveniencing oneself to help another (which isn’t to necessarily say you hold these views yourself; your main objective is to gauge her position and how she responds to such a challenge) — and soon tells you that she feels like she can’t do this anymore and needs a moment to herself.

aglaea would be really difficult to befuddle, frustrate, or get any major reaction from. she’s very calculated with her responses, good at keeping a level head, and doesn’t reveal her emotional position. the only way you could get under her skin, if you so wished to play devil’s advocate, is by challenging her about the value of okhema and its citizens. even then, she’d barely crack, but if you’re looking closely, you might be able to tell she’s

finally, debates with anaxa are… literally nothing new. you’ve been bugging him with constant questions for years, and he’s used to it by now (to be honest, he probably ought to thank you for it — you kind of act as his argument-checker to see if he’s overlooked any problems or made any assumptions with any claim he makes). he might pretend to be a little annoyed, but really, he enjoys your intellectual matches. the only ways you could wind him up is (1) committing a fallacy in your argument on purpose/ acting with intellectual dishonesty, which you would just… never do, or (2) saying something (probably negative) about yourself, which… also would never really come up in a discussion, because you’re interested in knowing stuff, not talking about yourself.

(he’s also definitely tried to convince you to take part in the annual great debate on multiple occasions, but you refuse every time. to be fair, every day is a ‘great debate’ for you and whichever unfortunate soul you run into that day… so it’s understandable why you don’t need to join some tournament to get, what, some public affirmation of your debating skill? who needs that? does it get you closer to uncovering knowledge about the world? no? well, you’re just not interested, then.)

[rainydayathogwarts]

that look on your face - draco malfoy

Draco Malfoy is the type of person to stay silent in a conversation when he has nothing to say. A neutral look on his face that would make those he wasn’t close to think he hated them. Sometimes that was the case, but most of the times it just meant he had nothing to say. That’s why it was so difficult to hide his feelings for you. Any time you joined in a conversation, laughing along with the group and saying nice things, Draco had a dreamy smile on his face, his eyes trained on the way your lips moved when you spoke and your eyes lit up when you remembered something.

The boys never let him live it down. Whenever Theo, Mattheo and Blaise cause sight of him staring at you with heart eyes, they had to elbow each other to hold in their laughs. Draco would be brought out of his daze, straightening his posture and fixing his face so you wouldn’t realise just how in love he was with you.

Salazar forbid that the four boys were ever alone (which happens quite often since they share a giant dorm), because they are instantly on Draco’s back about his obsession with you. “Draco, mate, you need to remember that Potions is your favourite subject. Focus on the class, not on her face.” Would enunciate Theo, speaking to him like a child while Blaise and Mattheo broke out in laughter “Or her tits!” Riddle would add. Draco would just have to sit there and take the harassment from him friends, his pale face burning red with embarrassment. There was no use for him to try and deny his feelings for you. To his friends, or even you for that matter, because it was just so painfully obvious.

That’s why it was also so easy and drama-free for you guys to become a couple, something that isn’t common in relationships between Slytherins. The two of you had just been sat in Draco’s dorm alone, studying for your upcoming exam, but it didn’t seem as though Draco had his head in the game. “You’re giving me that look again.” Draco’s face flushed in humiliation and he looked down at his textbook, except now you were looking up at him. “What look?” “The look that makes me want to kiss you no matter how many people are around.” You answered instantly. Draco’s eyes were instantly back on you, scanning your face to find a hint of lies on your face. When he decided you weren’t lying, both his hands were cupping your jaw to bring you into a soft yet hungry kiss.

The beginning of your relationship wasn’t the end of Draco’s obsession with you, no, it was just the beginning. Draco refused to move from your side unless he had a lesson. So whether it was breakfast, lunch, dinner, study sessions in the library, conversations in the common room, he was always glued to your side, his hands on your body in some way or another. His arm would usually be around your waist, or he’d have a soft hand on your thigh, but he always had the same look on his face when hearing you talk. A loving look with a soft smile gracing his lips. A look on his face so peaceful that when his mother saw you together for the first time, she pulled you away to tell you never to break her son’s heart.

Not that you were planning to.

[theannoyingmosquitoinyourroom]

studying? sorry, you mean attempting to quickly draw my blorbos with the limited onenote tools?

[aromanticasterisms]

this whole epilogue is just a little treat for me oh my god. "familiar faces arrive in simulanka" does not even begin to cover it

[lilacthebooklover]

when i say that i don't do things by halves, i mean it. exhibit a: the past few months have been spent with my parents reprimanding me for not revising enough for my exams, but now that i've decided to do it, i spend every second i'm at school (from 8am-4:30pm) studying. it's gotten to the point where my mother congratulated me on having lunch today. oh well, gcses only come once. i can have friends next year :)

[screampied]

PUFF, PUFF, ASS! s. ryōmen

ৎ୭ sum. puff puff pass, girl — not puff puff ass! you wanted to smoke one last sesh before winter break but sukuna smokes something far sweeter instead - you.

wc. 8.4k

warnings. fem! reader, plug! roommate sukuna, college au, both are in early 20s, unprotected, substance consumption, slooowish burn, virgin! sukuna, switch reader, quickies, pining, sukuna’s a loser fratboy with no game, p whipped sukuna, creampīes, edging, cowgirl, big dick kuna, he lasts 0.5 secs, blōwjobs, dry humping, shotgunning, spīt, dirty talk (he tried), use of "good boy", praise.

“the usual, ‘kuna.”

ah, those three pretty words.

your roommate and all-time favorite plug, sukuna never got tired of hearing it. of course though, not in a million years would he admit the fact—let alone admit that you juuust might be his favorite clientele.

sukuna was the plug.

most of the other students on campus, including you would always buy from him. he was known for selling the best of the fuckin’ best.

despite you having the luxury of sharing a whole dorm with him, he never gave out free handouts, no half off deals, nothing. “what do you mean you won’t be here until january?”

oh shit.

he didn’t like how clingy he sounded.

not one bit.

sukuna mentally grumbles, burying his hands in the pockets of his gray sweats before you respond. “oh, yeah. for break, i’m going on a skiing trip,” and as you’re rambling, his eyes avert toward your lips.

glossed - they brightly shimmered in the flickering dorm room light, and he struggled to focus on what you were even saying.

you spoke every word so sweetly. sukuna even studied the corners of your lips and they’d cutely crease within each syllable—with your brows slightly furrowing at every passing second. “uh- are you even listening, sukuna?”

“yeaah yeah. stupid skiing trip, nice.” he shrugs, feeling a weird feeling bubble up inside him.

with you being gone for two weeks - he’d have no one to annoy, no one to get high with, no one to-

“don’t be a baby. i’m not leaving until in like-” you pause, pulling up your wrist and squinting at your wristwatch. “two hours. in the meantime, we can just have one last sesh together if you want.”

yes, yes, yes!

“fine, whatever.”

it was just an ordinary sunday.

usually, sukuna would be out at some frat party. every year during the winter, there’s this annual gathering before the break where all the years are invited.

you went once during your sophomore year in college with a few friends, and to be honest - it was pretty shitty.

loud crappy music, stale refreshments, the whole college experience shebang.

you stopped attending a while ago, and you probably didn’t really miss much though.

besides if anything—you’d much rather prefer getting high than going to some overrated end-of-the-year party.

“mmh- thanks,” you sigh, desperately needing something to take the edge off.

with finals finally being over, getting blitzed was just what you needed. the two of you sat on the lower spacey bunk bed, and your eyes stared at sukuna’s fingers. he was so focused, claret pupils entirely fixated at the pre-rolled blunt in his hand.

with a near pout, you shrug your shoulders before finishing your sentence, “—and by the way ‘kuna, i can roll one y’know.”

“yeah riiight. last one you rolled was like a kazoo,” he gruffs, snatching a fresh hollowed blunt wrap from his pocket.

from your recent purchases, sukuna always knew your favorite flavor . . cherry rush.

he snickered at the cute ‘lil frown that would soon stretch across your lips, but you knew that was true. sukuna placed the pre-rolled blunt back in his pocket before turning back toward you.

you struggled a bit at the rolling part, but in your mind - you were a pro at taking hits.

“i’ll teach you one day how to master the art of rolling like me. it’ll cost ya extra though, roomie.” sukuna continues, making sure the materials perfectly stuffed inside. he already did the basics.

preparing the flower, chopping down the bud, breaking everything down, and a bunch of other steps. .

it was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours..

sukuna had to mash up the substance a bit, churning it with a tiny metal tool before then using the grinder to flatten everything up inside the wrap.

making sure it’s not too bulky, he then starts sprinkling a bit of the green substance inside the center and all around the other parts of the blunt evenly.

he’s neat and precise, making sure it’s enough for two instead of the usual one.

and finally, sukuna’s rolling it..

“watch me,” he hoarsely instructs, and your hands are placed in your lap. his fingers slither toward one end, carefully tucking a piece of the wrap around the substance. stubby thumbs of his that were melting with a bit of stickiness rolled around the sides. he’s shaping it, molding it into its right size so it’s nice and even. “the shapin’ is always important,” and you could already feel yourself starting to get bored.

just shut up and roll it.

is what your intrusive thoughts were trying to get you to blurt out, but you stayed quiet. as you’re still observing, sukuna slightly sticks out his tongue and starts to lick near the dry cracks.

oh.

you couldn’t lie—whenever you saw sukuna licking at certain parts of blunts whenever you two smoked together, it did something to you.

always, dirty thoughts would plague at the very front of your mind, wondering what else he could do with his tongue.

speaking of, sukuna’s tongue’s super duper long too. you could feel your breath hitching the more you watched, silently admiring how his lashes briefly closed each time he blinked.

you wondered if he could lick-

“ahem.” sukuna rolls his eyes, and he wasn’t even licking it anymore. he’s been stopped.

and now, he’s openly staring dead at you, a pink slit brow raised to further express his annoyance.

“sorry, what?” you reply, feeling a hot wave of embarrassment shiver down your entire spine.

oh girl, you’re so fucked.

he definitely saw you staring.

with a disappointed sigh, sukuna gives the chubby rolled blunt a soft pierce with two of his thumbs. “i said, why do you think i’m licking the blunt? tell me why that step of rolling is important.”

“um-” you pause, your mind not at all thinking about the smoke sesh anymore.

all you were thinking about sukuna’s long pink tongue.

you were squeezing your thighs shut the entire time. your knees were folded, digging into the squishy bed frame before you tried to gather up a good answer.

“you lick the sides to…uh-” you stammer, mind blacking out straight away. “…to get a quick taste before it burns?”

“tch. sometimes i wonder why i even get high with you,” sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose. as he spoke in that same, husky tone—you could hear a bit of laughter trying to suppress from the back of his throat. “no, girl. i’m licking along the dry areas to help moisten it.”

“oh..” you blink, your mind all in the gutter.

the blunt’s earthy scent starts to fill up the dorm within no time.

it’s that same, strong cherry smell that’s always been your favorite. it’s wholly sweet, and the aroma was just so candied in the air that you could almost taste the tartness already on your tongue.

its smell was quite loud - hence why it was always your preferred choice out of his other flavors.

the scent was sweet but the taste was far sweeter, and the wrap never failed to leave you unsatisfied.

“oh,” sukuna mocks your single response, crimson eyes subtly flickering back into a roll once more. for a moment, you could feel sukuna’s gaze shortly taking in your appearance.

like usual, you wore some nameless brand university t-shirt with shorts on.

maybe you’re batshit crazy, horny- hell, maybe even both, but you could’ve sworn sukuna was gawking at your thighs.

your legs—they were neatly folded back as you sat on your knees. a bit of skin poking from your shorts had slight rips in them and he noticed it straight away.

the cute squish of your thighs coming together every few times you sat upright - so so pretty..

“anyways,” he clears his scratchy, itched throat, burying the image of your thighs away in the back of his mind. you were so close to him that he could practically smell the scent of your shampoo. “ah- you remember how to light, right?”

“mhm.” you gave him a nod, leaning in closer.

the fat blunt remained glued against his fingertips that pressed deeply into the sides. you reached near your nightstand to pull out a lighter, bringing it toward his lips.

sukuna’s viewing you closely, and you felt your weak pulse starting to quicken within seconds.

even though it’s just a small, tiny gesture, sukuna tilts his head down further toward you to reach your level.

sexily, you’re met with his red, darkened stare. pink, overlong bangs were already starting to run down his brows, nearly occluding his vision of you before he swipes his hair away from his face with a hand.

with a clicking, ‘flick!’ the flame brightly ignites, and you start to carefully glide the lighter back ‘n forth under the seam.

then, you start to go around the rest of the blunt, making sure all the parts get lit. sukuna watches as you bring the flame toward the very end of the stick. the smell’s getting even stronger, and sukuna’s stare at your decent lightning work gets him intrigued.

there was a sharp silence, and the only things that could have been heard were outside the dormitory. continuous chatter of other roommates and some pop songs playing in the ambience.

once you two start to actually smoke — you’re both taking turns, sat next to each other and allowing the euphoric high to slowly take over.

puff, puff, pass..

it was simple.

the two of you each got two tokes. since sukuna rolled, it was etiquette that he took the first few hits - then you.

“ugh,” you land on your back against the springy bed, drawing in a sharp breath. your lungs were heavy, and your chest slumped once you started to absorb the lemony puffs of air.

each sucked breath was deep, and every few seconds, you allowed yourself to recuperate from the strong hits.

“been a while,” sukuna speaks again, his voice dripping with a rasp. his throat - it sounds almost grating.

he lies his head back against the bed with you too, slightly craning his head to face you. “gettin’ high with you, i mean.”

passing the blunt back to him, you sleazily grin. “don’t tell me you’re gonna miss me.”

“tch. don’t be stupid, never said that,” he instantly replies, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit.

you talked so sly, and he noticed how your eyes were starting to droop already. sukuna’s jagged breathing hitched once your head softly thumped against his shoulder.

damn.

“it’s just annoying,” he continues, taking a second to inhale through his nose. a cloud of smoke exits through his nostrils and it’s always satisfying to witness.

your head rubs against the fleece of his sweatshirt before he lets out another dull inhale. once that short milisecond of tunnel vision occurs in his sight, sukuna exhales again—his shoulders slackening.

“ ‘m not gonna have anyone to smoke with for two weeks. and yeah, i could get high by myself but it’s… better with you.”

oh?

you glance up at sukuna’s whose eyes are glued to you. there were faint, noticeable bags underneath his eyes as his eyelids started to become heavy.

his entire face — it’s turning flustered once he realized what the actual fuck he just said.

shit. shit. shit.

“oh… my god,” you cheekily grin, grabbing the burning blunt from him. inhaling for two seconds, you place it between the arc of your fingers. “ ‘kuna, you could’ve just said so. well, if that was the case, i could’ve just canceled my flight and booked for tomorrow morning.”

“really?”

“uh- no, i was joking. do you know how much plane tickets cost? in this economy? please.”

sukuna rolls his eyes at your sass before grumbling. “whatever,” and he’s watching your hits turn into more than just two.

he raises a brow, staring at your pursed lips that were twitching every second as you blew out excess smoke. “oi- stop hoggin’ it. you always do this shit.”

“make me-”

he scoffs, narrowing puffy eyes at you before reaching over.

sukuna’s beefy arm extends to grab the blunt but coincidentally enough - he ends up falling flat on your chest.

you look down at him and there’s a loooong, eerie silence.

nothing was exchanged except intimate, prolonged glances and a subtle loud silence. sukuna gawked at you with fiery pupils occasionally flickering toward the rolled stick that was tightly gripped against your fingers.

he then looks at your lips… so shiny, you rubbed them against each other once you noticed his gaze before taking one more hit.

he stays quiet, watching you inhale before exhaling. “i didn’t know the blunt was on my ches-”

“shut up,” sukuna carps, cutting you off with a sharp tone. he leans in closer—and at that, you start to feel the speed of your heartbeat accelerate. sukuna brings a dry thumb toward your chin, gingerly smearing a circle around your skin before huskily murmuring. “fuck- can i . .”

“do it,” you breathlessly reply, already knowing what he was trying to say. the intense high was swarming you both mildly, and your senses were heightening from each elated breath being drawn.

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

instantly, sukuna’s lips crash firmly against yours.

it’s so quick - you barely have time to react, moaning once his tongue dips inside of your mouth. swiftly, sukuna snatches the blunt away from your hand, making his way on top of you.

your arms wrapped around his torso—pulling him closer as you both shared rushed, airy breaths. the cherry flavor lingers in both mouths, tangling with glutinous, sappy saliva and all. “mmgh-” you start to recline back, your left leg slinking around his slim torso.

a throaty groan scratches out of sukuna’s tongue as you hear the occasional ‘claps’ of both lips smacking into each other. every few seconds, it’d pitch louder and louder, and sukuna just couldn’t help himself.

just from his hungry lips, you could tell he’s been wanting to do this for the longest.

he just didn’t want to admit it.

“god-” he grunts against your lips, the tip of his nose softly rubbing against your skin.

yet again, foreheads were stacked right on top of each other, and he felt remains of smoke waft back into his mouth. you tasted so sweet, sweeter than anything he’s ever smoked by a long shot.

“mmh- sukuna,” you moaned, feeling his body in between your wrapped legs starting to grind into you.

it’s slow - his sweats were so soft, nearly tickling against your thighs before it then rubs against something very hard.

that ‘something’ was prodding through his grey pants and he prowls lowly into your neck, sucking against your freely exposed skin. “if.. you wanted to hump me all this time, should’ve just said so.”

“ugh-” he glares, the pink shade gradually painting over his vexed expression clearly betraying his annoyance.

sukuna was a big guy, and the size difference was very much apparent.

his body..

it towers over you, even with you being nearly smushed underneath him. his hips pathetically rolled into you steadily, and he grunts again but this time it’s huskier..

as your legs continued to cage him in with its secure grasp, you feel him stop. “fuck!” his head falls into your chest, and you could see a pout shortly tugging against his lips.

your brows twist into a furrow as you feel his body still itself. sukuna’s hardened bulge still rests between the front of shorts — but it’s . . wet.

heavy, deep pants could be heard from him and then that’s when you started to feel a damp splotch soak near the center of his sweatpants. as you’re still trying to catch your breath, you let off a sheepish, “heh.. ‘kuna.. did you just-”

“yeah, i fuckin’… came,” sukuna grumbles, slit brows contorting as he spoke with such distaste.

his pointed chin rests between the soft valley of your chest before he pinches his forehead. “look- i’m a virgin. i’ve never-”

with a soft-hazed expression, you pat his head. “it’s okay. it happens dummy. don’t uh- feel bad about that,” and his embarrassment leisurely subsides.

you obviously weren’t expecting him to say that.

you figured otherwise.

on campus, sukuna’s highly well-known and very popular. he’s usually seen around frat clubs and parties but wasn’t much social now that you thought about it.

he kept his circle small, and with you being his roommate he grew to get sort of used to your presence whenever the two of you smoked together . . sort of.

“just.. let me,” you quietly reply, shifting your body before getting on top of him. sukuna huffs faintly, placing the blunt near the nearby nightstand before staring at you.

now, you’re straddling him with your perked ass sitting directly above his abrupt cum stain that bled through his sweats. “is this okay? if you don’t feel comfortable we can just finish our sesh.”

“it’s fine,” sukuna swallows, admiring your body before him. even the shorts you wore were such a tease, maybe an ever bigger tease than you.

his eyes ran across the fabric, watching as it perfectly exposed just a nice amount of your ass.

he’s still so hard, and you sitting right on it was only making him ten times more needy. “i want- i want you, screw the damn blunt.”

“okay,” you coo out - your voice sounding like mere heaven.

as sukuna takes a gulp, the roused tent in his sweats pokes out further the more you shimmy your hips around him. closing the distance between you both—you place a wet kiss down the slope of his neck.

he shivers at your touch with one hand trying to reach toward your swaying waist. with a soft ‘whack!’ he scoffs, feeling you swat his hand away. “ah, no touchin’ ‘kuna. you want me to do all the work, remember?”

through gritted teeth, he snarls out a stubborn, “finee,” and he’s already feeling himself starting to melt through his sweats.

you being on top of him - straddling him, it made sukuna sweat bullets. “just- hurry up. ‘m so fuckin’ hard..”

“yeah, i can feel it,” you hush, fishing a hand near his sweatpants.

with a single hand, you yank on the knotted white tie and it quickly becomes loose.

sukuna’s whole physique…

you got a glimpse of his boxers that peeked above his waistline and fuck..

he was ripped, jacked in every way. the ideal fratboy.

the sharpened line of his pelvis looked like it could prick the tip of your finger. “mmh,” you hold in a breath, swerving your hips against his bulged crotch. “are you always this hard whenever we smoke together?”

“haaah? don’t be . . ridiculous,” he pauses, his head tilting back. “fuck- yeah, like thaaat,” sukuna’s voice slows down, and it pitches so low that his mere voice made you throb.

the strip of his boxers was a darkened shade of red, complimenting his maroon eyes. “god- you’re bein’ a tease. just fuck me already, girl.”

as your hand reaches near his boxers, you feel his body shake - erupting violently like an active volcano.

it’s a cruel shudder, with multiple shivers running down his slouched spine as you continue to move on him. your hand was delaying the damn inevitable, taking its time before finally slipping inside his ruined boxers.

“let me touch you- c’mooon,” sukuna continued to speak, his gruff whiny babbles falling on deaf ears. you raise your chin, gifting the bottom of his chin with another kiss. silent ‘mwah’ after ‘mwah’ and it only makes him more frustrated.

as your dominant hand starts to get a good feeling—you wrap your palm around his now pulled-out shaft and he groans.

sukuna’s throat bobs instantly, and you could feel an excited vein prod down a side of his thick cock. “f.. fuck, keep touchin’ it. touch me.”

“you still wanna touch me?” you murmur hotly, his high, drooping eyes filled with cloudy mist returning your glance.

he’s so eager too.

sukuna responds with a nod, coral brows raising in anticipation. “mhm, fine. go ahead.”

with a rough hitch of his breath, sukuna’s callused textured palms finally attach their way toward your hips.

he’s gentle yet firm, rocking you back into place before he moans at the tepid skin-to-skin contact.

you look down at his exposed cock and it’s just so pretty..

sukuna’s shaft was covered with veins - veins, veins galore. your thumb plays with a bit of foreskin, watching it peel back to expose the head and he shuddered from your touch once more.

“mmh..” he sighs deeply, your tender touch nearly hypnotizing him. the top part of his cock’s glans bruised with brightened shades of pink and rosy, hot red.

sukuna’s ridge was tapered too, and you felt yourself sporadically throb once between your open thighs as your curious thumb glided over the long hooking curve.

to top it all off, it’s got a lean to it too.

sukuna’s dick was so big that it could barely hold itself up. you watched as it sort of drooped over.

a tiny, attractive detail that made you release an elated sigh. as sukuna still feels your hand tending to his shaft, he lets out a low grunt. “don’t . . hah- know why we never did this before.”

“because you’re a chicken.”

“tch. girl fuck you.”

“no, fuck you. and i’m going to, relax pretty boy.”

♡ ♡ ♡

you were definitely somethin’ to be reckoned with.

sloppy, chaste kisses created a vertical path down his bare chest. sukuna held up his sweatshirt with one hand as your lips glued against his rock-hard abs that were all on display. you kissed down, down, down..

his abs were just perfectly sculptured - akin to a greek god with how they were just so naturally carved into chiseled, muscular pecs.

the cool air continued to set against his skin as he kept his sweatshirt raised. as your bridge of kisses resumed—sukuna groaned, preparing to sigh once your lips trailed and trailed . . until they eventually stopped at his dick.

it stood tall - slightly tilting forward with how heavy was. squinting a bit, you stared at the tiny hairs of pink that scattered around his stuffed base.

“is this alright?” you mumble through glittery glossed lips, your words so soft it sound like a raspy whisper. his tip was still covered with wetted drips of pre, tearing away at the sides with various white globs.

“ffuuuck- yeah, just do whatever. use your mouth, whatever you’re supposed to do,” sukuna grunts, feeling his core stomach tightening.

the two of you were sitting on the bed with him lying fully down. sukuna’s pants were pulled off now and he’s feeling his dick twitch every time your warm breath fans against his tip.

“mhm, okay,” you reply, rolling out your dripping, wet tongue. sukuna’s eyes immediately lock against you, peering as your tongue hungrily swirls its way around his pulsating crown.

slurrrp after slurrrp, you’re licking up the runny droplets of pre that were racing down all sides.

sukuna shivers, mumbling out a faint ‘ohhh shit’ before drawing in a long breath. each time he did, it felt like his lungs were being pinched from the inside.

you took his breath away,

figuratively and literally.

after all the times he’s smoked, nothing could ever compare to the way your tongue made him feel.

“s.. shit,” sukuna groans. your hand’s wrapped around his dick, and it was a bit limp. it only took you a few seconds (which felt like hours) to lap up his pre-cum before sliding your salivating tongue toward his mushroomy tip.

it’s so colorful - flushed with a burning, bright pink near the very capped head.

you even give it a little kiss, moaning once translucent strands of his pre creates a sloppy concoction with your saliva.

so filthy..

the two words that ran through his mind as he watched your plump-shaped lips.

as you continued, sukuna’s hand found its way toward the top of your head, ogling as you then puckered your lips.

slowly, he stares as your mouth opens up a bit to where it’s agape. you make your way down with his tip brushing past the parched roof of your mouth. he gutturally moans, feeling the scaly-like texture greeting his cock before nodding.

“mmh- your throooat . . feels so fuckin’ good,” he tilts his head back, adam’s apple still bobbing through the center of his larynx.

with sukuna being so big, you couldn’t exactly fit all of it inside.

with your hand still gripped around his hefty-made shaft, your scrunched wet lips gradually made their way to where your fingers rested.

your head’s starting to bob bob bob, and sukuna’s grunting his head off. the slippery, risqué noises were just downright wet - you’re gripping his cock before he feels you angle it further down your throat for a better stretch.

“mmph-” you let off a muffled whine, making sure to wet around his entire cock.

sukuna’s thighs already felt so heavy - they glued down to the bed as your head went up and down, and he just couldn’t look away from you.

the two of you were always smoking together when you both could’ve been doing this instead?

that same question — it kept running through sukuna’s head like a loop.

your mouth.. it kept sukuna’s dick so warm, so wet..

it was just something about the way your head bobbed with those pretty lashes of yours sticking to your eyelids. even your lids were starting to sag, preparing to snap shut at any moment.

your raving rhythm had him getting dizzy within seconds, and sukuna gave your hair a light tug.

“ngh-” you grump, your head pulling forward and it’s almost cute.

sukuna pauses, sheepishly scratching his head. “shit, sorry.. was i-”

“harder, dummy,” you interrupt his apology, saliva dribbling down the center of your chin as your lips briefly departed from his sheen-covered cock. sukuna moans at the lewd sight of you and how you were slobbering all over his cock.

this was the type of image he’d probably fantasize about whenever you weren’t in the dorm and he was by himself. “yank it.”

“eh. f.. fuckin’ kinky girl- fine,” and sukuna manages to grab a good amount of your hair. giving it a nice solid yank like you wanted, your head jerks forward. “mmng-” his nostrils flare for the second time.

sukuna grunts, hearing the wet little ‘ptou’ sounds of you spitting on his tip and lapping it right up.

you’re sucking him off — making him bite his lip, and he starts fucking back against your face until there’s even more glossy drool pouring down your chin.

much to your surprise, sukuna starts to raise his hips into your mouth, hearing strangled moans leave from your throat time and time again. after a few sloppy thrusts of his rolling hips, you took a second to start kissing around his dick again.

torrid, wet kisses ghosted all around his dick and sukuna could already feel his body starting to levitate from your wet lips.

your head - it’s similar to a bobblehead with the way it goes up ‘n down, movements entirely unpredictable.

you use your hand to slovenly twist around his shaft as you suck harder, moaning hoarsely once his bruised tip slams its way against the back of your throat.

it greets your fleshly uvula, and you let off a sweet gargled sound that makes sukuna’s dick twitch.

the single vein that runs down his cock dances against your tongue and you hum, batting your lashes.

he could never deny at all at how pretty you looked.

your cheeks were all puffed - stuffed all because of his dick that’s plugging in and out of your mouth.

sukuna lets off husky grunt after grunt at the back of your tongue skimming over his dick’s top. you’re getting his entire dick wet, not caring at all at how rivulets of your spilling saliva streamed down your chin. not just your chin, but near the cracks of your mouth.

your lips were perfect - they were stretched all out, shaped into a wide circular ‘o’ as you continued to take him down your tight throat.

“hng-” you’d moan, snaking a hand between your legs. sukuna gasped, eyeing you closely as you brought a few fingers of your own toward your puffed, neglected cunt.

you’re soaked, all through your panties too. you reached inside of your shorts, past your underwear before giving your pussy a loving squeeze.

as your mouth’s still occupied, you swiped a thumb over your pulsating clit that’s sobbing for attention.

“f.. fuck, didn’t know you were this nasty, roomie,” sukuna mutters, almost in awe at how you were just playing with yourself while he’s inches deep down your throat.

the downright dirty, racy noises echoed through the thin, dry walls of the dorm — and you prayed no one would hear.

to be specific, you prayed no one would hear sukuna because he was just groaning his lungs out as if he was belting an F5 high note. his voice indeed sounded rough, but every now ‘n then you heard a few cute cracks from your tongue work.

your head still bounces up and down, etching the tip of your tongue down a lightning-shaped vein.

sukuna’s stretchy girth damn near pried your mouth open even more on its own. you’re making sure not to use teeth, moaning at the feeling of your own fingers maneuvering circles against your clit. “ugh- good girl.. good- fffuck,” sukuna praises, feeling his tip stimulate way back toward your uvula for probably the umpteenth time.

he’s in alllll the way, watching as you breathe through your nose. “hah- throat’s just.. perfect for me. thaaaat’s … it, suck it, roomie. suck my.. p- penis.”

oh.. he can always work on dirty talk later.

sukuna’s cock was still sensitive - so much so that he doesn’t even realize that his orgasm’s approaching yet again. it’s a toe-curling feeling that threatens his ego, and a whine slips out.

you’re just so unapologetically sloppy - making out with his tip, slurping up the sides that rained with glittery beads of your spit.

“ahh,” you pop out his dick from your mouth, running your tongue around his tender frenulum.

right there, that moment right there was all it took for sukuna to cum and you knew it too.

“f- fuck, oh fuuuck, ‘m fuckin’ cummin’,” sukuna bites down on his jaw, fingers still dug into your scalp. your head sinks back down as his plump head pounds into your throat before you remove your fingers from the inside of your shorts.

first the tight shortness of breath comes — then, comes the actual release.

sukuna’s shooting down your throat, sprinkling creamy drops of cum on your flatly laid tongue as you look at him with those pretty, fogged eyes.

he already took the initiative to pull his leaking shaft out of your mouth, softly starting to then spank his tip against your greedy tongue.

“mmh-” you hummed again, a purr caught in your throat. it’s raw - and voice sounded a bit raspy, which had of course aroused him even more. this was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and as your tongue lays flat — you nod your head. “good, keep hittin’ your tip against my tongue, mhm.”

“tch..” sukuna kisses his teeth, complying with your sinful request.

your lashes prettily fluttered as he’s still spurting out milky strips onto your tongue. the taste was bittersweet, and judging by the pout on your lips once he removed his cock away from the flatness of your tongue, you only wanted more.

panting heavily, sukuna’s abs clench through his fraternity-made sweats. “what?”

“c’mere,” you breathe, every breath you take becoming more strained as air tries to fill into your lungs. sukuna leans his head down to where you were, and his eyes immediately land on the remnants of cum that dribble a bit near the corner of your lip. “lick it off me.”

“hah- you’re a . . nasty little roommate.” sukuna snickered, a hand gently wrapping around the back of your neck. he pulls you in, pressing his lips into yours at full speed.

both lips were like speeding cars — they rammed into each other, the turbo being both lips quickly slamming against ajar, opened mouths.

sukuna grunts, vehemently running his tongue around the side of your mouth that’s covered with a few pearly tears of his cum. the sourly sweet taste again, makes him moan in your mouth, feeling your teeth playfully nip near his bottom lip.

as foreheads forevermore pressed against each other, sukuna drags his tongue near your chin which is also covered with sleek wet slicks.

as sukuna blindly guides his lips back towards your mouth, the open-mouthed kiss lasts for a while, to say the least. he even started sucking on your tongue, savoring the treacly cherry poppin’ taste that scattered all over your tastebuds.

you were a new high sukuna didn’t mind smoking.

♡ ♡ ♡

sukuna was still struggling to breathe - every breath felt more and more raspy with each singular puff.

pink, puffed lips of his were all swollen from your filthy make-out sesh. also though, his dick - his tip specifically, felt like it was on fire.. and the veiny sides were already starting to dry up with pasty splotches of cum.

you had to admit, sukuna looked kinda cute like this..

submissively underneath you with a pout, dripped in sweat everywhere on his body, sinewy muscles tensing with his cock just aching for more..

sukuna’s pink hair was unkempt and ruffled, messed up, and a tiny bit matted.

his once cocky and arrogant ego thrown was straight out the window all because of your throat and the way your raucous hips made him cum through his sweatpants.

sukuna knows you, and he knew you’d never let him live that down for as long as you two were roommates.

“your hoodie,” you bring a thumb above your vaguely dripping chin, smearing it around your sheeny lips. sukuna’s still laid back, and you’re now hovering over his sensitive cream-covered tip. “can i wear it while i ride you?”

“pft. no, it’s a frat-”

“kuna.”

“ughh- fine. better not ruin it,” he grumbles with a glowering scowl, raising his arms.

you help him take off the piece of clothing before putting it over your head, pulling down your t-shit from underneath.

as you do so, sukuna watches intently, feeling yet another vein prod against the right side of his dick. it was just something about seeing you in his clothing, straddling him too.

you’re wearing his fleecy-made frat hoodie as if it was your own and fuck did you look good in it.

sukuna’s breath nearly choked him as he openly stared at you, noticing how it was a bit oversized and practically covered over a nice portion of your thighs. “lie back more.” you utter, a hand grabbing the shared blunt that still rested idly on the nightstand. you’d almost forgotten about it.

right away, sukuna leaned himself back against the lopsided cushioned pillows that squished behind him.

there was just enough room to where your head didn’t hit the bottom of the top bed stacked above.

your hand grabs his hefty curved cock, aligning it against your sopping entrance before pausing. “tell me if it’s too much,” you mumble, bringing the stout blunt toward your lips.

sukuna’s completely shirtless now - and it suddenly gets so quiet that you hear him gulp in anticipation.

“j- just fuck me already,” he prowls rashly, his words turning into an impatient hiss once his beefy arms wrap around your torso.

with an ‘oof,’ you end up landing flat into his chest.

sukuna’s poor creamy tip was crying - it was starting to sob from the very reddened tip with rivulets of precum.

the wait was antagonizing - you were antagonizing.

he just wanted to be inside you, to feel what it’s really, really like.

sukuna fantasized about this exact scenario in more ways than he could count. he was far too stubborn to ever admit that he was too shy to actually be intimate with someone.

but with you, it only felt right.

“let me take another hit first-” you giggle, seeing the glare forming on his face. “geez, okay, okay.”

sukuna kept his eyes on you as you placed the cherry-flavored blunt in between your teeth.

it’s still securely rolled and fat - and you felt one of his hands creeping toward your ass within no time.

you steal another bit anyway,

and with a single addicting puff, a gust of wind whirls its way into your lungs and down your passageway. “f- fuckk..” you sigh, one hand positioning his teary tip against your drooling, drooling slot.

a cloud of smoke emits from your mouth once you breathe out, and sukuna sucks in a raspy drag. “mmg- hurry the fuck up,” he clenched down on his jaw tightly, bottom lip thoughtlessly quivering.

he’s so sensitive—with endorphins crashing through his veins, they sent rocketing shockwaves all down his spine. your cunt was just dangerously slick, and he knew you were teasing just by the way you rubbed your pussy back ‘n forth against his poor cum-dripping cockhead.

“hah- fuckin’ . . put it in- ngh-”

“ask nicely.” you whisper, wrapping a hand around his thick throat.

oh.

sukuna would’ve probably been lying if he said that didn’t turn him on.

your wet cunt was gradually sliding itself against his cock that rested against his tummy.

a big hand then grips onto your bare right ass cheek before he growls under his breath.

“fuck me, or else.”

“no.”

“fuck me, or else…please.”

“still no. also, speak up.”

sukuna glares at your audacity, seeing a small simper preparing to crease against your lips before he sighs in defeat. you were probably even more stubborn than him..

his shoulders slump before he clicks his tongue, clearing his throat. “okaay, roomie. you win- fuck. please, ride me. i- i need it,” and for a moment there, its a bit of vulnerability in sukuna’s tone.

his baritone-pitched voice, it cracks and you could see his left eye twitching.

you’re killing his pride.

but part of that made him more aroused.

“i need . . you.” he concludes, shaky labored breaths leaving from his lips. sukuna groans, feeling you slide a hand down his hardened chest.

the tips of your padded fingers circle his pecs, outlining each vein that decorated his sculpted body.

sukuna was like a candle melting from just your blazing touch. his body was the wax and your fingertips were the flame. his hoodie that you wore only made the entire scene sexier too.

he allowed his crimson gaze to follow toward your chest. the three-letter logo of the fraternity he was in finely stitched against the fabric. it hugged your body flawlessly, and his eyes never left your frame, not even for a minute.

“good boy,” you hum, hearing him nearly choke at your praise.

good boy.

sukuna’s ears perked before he groans, hearing the long-awaited squelch of your pussy ‘slap’ down on him.

your warmth from the inside surprises him, and he whiiiiines out a sweet, elongated mewl of your name. “ugh- fuck,” sukuna hisses, feeling you sink yourself down.

it’s a tight fit at first with an even bigger stretch!

sukuna’s rounded tip alone could barely lodge its way inside, and you had to use both hands just to guide it in the right direction. with the blunt still buried underneath your teeth, you blow smoke in his face. “mmph- open your mouth,” you airily mumble.

taking in the sugary scent—sukuna moans, bringing his lips apart.

once you’re starting to move, it’s over -

with your head going closer toward his face, you take the rolled stick from your lips to blow more smoke… this time, into his mouth.

your hips started to wind up, and he was already bottomed out inside. “taste it,” you whisper, feeling sukuna’s questing tongue already trying to swash around the inside of your cheek.

smoke pours into the right sukuna’s mouth, traveling within both pairs of full lungs before he kisses you deeply.

you’re each sharing smoke between twisted tongues and it’s so filthy..

your warm breath continues to slide against his sukuna’s—feeling his tongue eagerly dip its way inside your mouth.

the sweetened taste of cherry lingers against your buds and his, and between sloppy kisses, you moan. “mhh- there we go, good. just hold my hips again.”

“f.. fuck,” sukuna clicks his tongue, drowsy eyes already rolling back in such immense pleasure.

your pussy had such power - power that even he couldn’t handle because he felt like the entire bed was about to snap into two.

your hips had sukuna hysterical, and he starts fanning himself too. “p- phew, shiiit..” he groans, pink brows curving into a desirous furrow.

you’re swerving, tightly gripping back against his cock like velcro as you started to cling onto the bed’s railing for better leverage. “damn- goddamn, fuuuck me then.”

the high surrounds you both and it’s just pure bliss..

it was like a trip you didn’t want to end, and sukuna felt like he was floating every time your ass wetly slammed back down onto his lap. you’re making his head spin in the best way possible, dozens of gears turning in his empty brain.

“haah- ‘kuna,” you’d moan, hot breath landing against his chin and tickling the tiny hairs that stick against his skin. you’re clenching down on him from the inside, hearing every sticky plap! of skin clash amongst each other.

sukuna was a bit awkward with his hands - they didn’t know where to go.

one moment, they’re glued to your hips and the next, they’re traveling down your thighs. his favorite part though, was your ass.

as you continued to move, sukuna couldn’t help but thumb a few clammy fingers toward the sides of your jouncing rear.

harshly - he gives it a needy squeeze before spanking it, hearing the cute gasping whines drag from your throat.

he’s getting the hang of it.

“c- careful,” you wheeze, watching as he’s taking a puff now. sukuna’s nude chest was already starting to gloss gloss gloss with gallons of sweat. sure—you’ve seen him at the gym but never this sweaty.

with your arms tossing over his tensed shoulders, your weeping cunt flops right against his cock with a few sloppy single thrusts, earning a loud grunt from him. “now ‘m really startin’ to think you’re in love with m-”

“just…shut up.” sukuna grumbles, silencing you with another deep kiss. it’s rough - and out of the many, many kisses you shared with him tonight, this felt more . . different.

sweet, pathetic whimpers elicited from you as your ass repeatedly whacked against his pelvis. sukuna’s lean cock sloppily digs its way through your cunt and you squealed at each vigorous curve.

riiiight thereeee-

he’s found the spot and he didn’t even know it.

your cute little shriek was all that told him though, because as his teeth were sharply striking against yours—he hit that same beloved g-spot again, and again, and again..

“o-ooh!” your back prettily arches like a cat, tangled colorless strands of saliva reluctantly pulling away from each pair of lips.

sukuna’s tip was vast and huge, it easily ran through the taut barrier of your entrance and you drool every time he kisses near your clit.

it’s just so tender..

your pupils were starting to enlarge with your eyes crossing. sukuna’s got the same eyes too from the overwhelming high… but his eyes were a bit bloodshot.

your hips were just so nasty, and he’s grunting every time your sopping pussy sucks him in before spitting him right back out, then in, then out again — a repeated loop of pure fuckin’ filth.

“mmn- ‘m gonna cum,” you whined, gasping once sukuna’s hands grabbed your waist. you both exchanged a look of utter blitzed lust, and sukuna darkly exhaled. your hips buckled in and out, in and out until your hips were just stuttering over him. “k- keep hittin’ me there, baby~ fuuck-”

baby.

sukuna felt his cheeks heat up - the small pet name making him wonder if the two of you were really more than just smoke buddies, more than just roommates..

“hng- me too,” sukuna rasps, feeling the sultry head of his cock burning up to such a smoldering degree.

he’s not just hot there—but all damn over.

you’re maintaining your rapid pace, moaning at the nerves pulsing through your body that steadily got provoked by sukuna’s deep, pivotal thrusts. “god- so fuckin’ perfect. ride me.. hah- ride it like you own it then, ugh-”

your continuous bouncing on sukuna’s lap even has his eyes rolling back too. it’s undeniably sexy, and you felt the sticky grip of his thumbs starting to lessen its hold against your rocky waist.

sukuna’s cock was starting to stiffen within seconds and your cunt was just so swollen, dribbling from every weeping orifice with syrupy amounts of juices.

it’s an all-around mess, and not before long, the smell of your own arousal mixes in with the feeling of your highly anticipated fervor..

the entire dorm was clouded - fogged, bathed in a mix of all scents. scents of pleasure, of cherry, and lots ‘n lots of sweat.

it was hard to see anything except for the two of you and the windows were just covered with steam.

your thighs practically glued to sukuna’s, and as his dick’s still pumping in and out of you, you let off a clamoring squall.

right then - that’s when it happens.

you cling onto him steadfastly, sensuously bucking your animalistic hips into him weakly as your body starts to slow. everything happens in almost slow motion - and if it was one thing for sure, your pussy had sukuna hypnotized.

sukuna’s angered cockhead swabs its way around your beloved g-spot about three more times before he groans too.

much louder than you, and he suppressed his nose (or at least tried to) by delicately biting into your shoulder. your skin’s softness had his tongue hungry, and he was lapping at your skin until it was turning wet all because of him..

the blunt ended up falling out of his mouth, landing on the wooden floor with a faint ‘thump!’

but sukuna could care less though-

he had far more important things to care about,

like how he was shooting literal blanks inside of you, painting your pretty clamping walls with his ivory-white color that hugged him oh-so tight.

sukuna’s gutturally groaning in your ear, moving his mouth away from your shoulder while leaning against your cheek.

you both came at the same time and it almost didn’t even feel real.

your teeth shatter as your hips finally stop moving, and sukuna falls back against the bed.

you’re whimpering loudly, creaming all down his cock as your body’s met with abrupt currents of rippling waves.

instead though—the only wave was your orgasm, crashing down down down..

“ugh-” he moans, lips quivering once more once he feels such wads spitting out of his tip.

it comes out so slowly, thin ropes of cum that leisurely bubble into pearly ribbons of stripes.

sukuna’s heart’s beating out of his chest - pound after pound so loud that he hears the melody through his ears like speakers.

as he’s still trying to get over his most recent finish—his first instinct was to wrap a burly arm around you.

you’re caught off guard by the sudden gesture, but you don’t complain.

he’s still snugly inside so deep, flooding your pussy with a feverishly hot batch of cum that even starts to ooze down between your legs.

you’re both breathing stiffly, sharing labored delayed pants before sukuna cups your chin. “what... are. we.”

“what?” you blink.

sukuna deadpans, a chastened pout compressing his lips before he brings a sloppy two-second kiss to your mouth.

you return it, quietly moaning at the stickiness currently slimed between your cracked-open thighs.

“i don’t.. know,” sukuna pants, bringing a palm near his forehead to wipe a sheet of perspiring sweat away. “this.. us- whatever.. this is,” he waves a hand around to exaggerate. “friends- er- smoke friends don’t just… casually cum in each other.”

“yeah, that’s true,” you jeer, leaning in while sukuna’s still buried swollen balls deep. inching close, you kiss his neck before sweetly whispering. “maybe we’re more then just friends and maybe you’re more than just my plug.”

sukuna scoffs. “hmph. well- you’re still payin’ by the way.”

with an eye roll, you reach near your burgundy-colored nightstand. with a loud ‘whiiir’ it opens, and you pull out a twenty dollar bill of what was the usual price of your purchases.

a bit overpriced but again, you didn’t have the energy to complain.

not when you were so stuffed - leaking with sukuna’s cum drizzling out of your cunt.

“here.” you hand him the crumpled-up dollar bill. sukuna takes it, and his entire face is just flushed.

for once — you see actual color in his usually stoic, emotionless face. who knew it was all because of you and your hips.

sukuna grunts something under his breath, watching as you slide your panties and shorts back on. scarlet eyes did a slow pan from up to down at your body, glancing at his hoodie that you still had on before you grabbed your suitcase underneath your desk.

“wha- you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i’m gonna miss my flight.” you reply, watching sukuna’s lips form into the nth pout of the night. two hours went by so quick, he forgot all about your dumb trip.

not to be dramatic (except sukuna probably was being dramatic) but two weeks without you felt like an eternity.

especially with how good you just made him feel, the replay of the entire scene that just occurred had his mouth shamelessly watering.

going toward the side of the bed where sukuna lay, you press one final wet kiss against his lips.

he grunts, leaning into your tender touch, gasping once your free hand gives his twitching cock a few ‘goodbye’ pumping strokes.

“mmg- don’t go.” you heard him grumble between your lips.

with a soft wet ‘smack’ — both lips hesitantly depart, and you whisper against his ear before leaving. “i’m keeping the hoodie by the way.”

[slapmeshigaraki]

⭒˚‧ ⭒ཐིཋྀ "Only nice girls get treats." ཐིཋྀ⭒ ‧˚⭒

♡ warnings: caleb x fem!reader, (18+ mdni), reader is insecure, fingering, dirty talk, pussy eating, begging, crying, dumbification, heavy praise, denial, spit, finger sucking, hair pulling, pussy slapping, mirror

♡ a/n: little treat for the middle of the week. been working on this one for a while so it got a little long,, so sorry. finished this instead of writing my research paper,, butttttt i love writing for caleb so i hope u enjoy xx

You're taking a lot longer than usual to get ready. Nothing seems to be fitting right, every outfit looking worse than the last. Maybe you should just stay home tonight, or maybe, you Caleb needs to remind you just how beautiful his girl is.

“Hey, did you need me to iron something for you? I was gonna’ do my shirt, so—” You listened, turning towards the bathroom door as the honeyed voice came to a halt. There he was, leaning against the wooden door frame, muscled torso on full display, dog tag draped around his neck and glistening in the dim lighting, a white collared dress shirt draped over his shoulder. His pants were held up by a fine leather belt that hung loosely around his hips, the buckle undone. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you, notes of cedarwood and lavender softly calming your otherwise hectic state. The bathroom was a mess, makeup brushes strewn about on the marble countertop, clothes and bras and panties thrown in the corner, heels that didn't match were all over the floor, making for a minefield of a space that you'd been moving around for the last two hours.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” His brow furrowed at the abnormally dry response, violet eyes studying you as you frantically hurried around the small space, makeup and hair both half done. The dress that he’d seen you in only five minutes earlier was balled up near a pile of purses on the tiled floor now, your skin only covered by a matching black lace set. He was almost drooling at the sight, opting to bite his full bottom lip to keep himself from doing so.

“Everything okay, baby?” His tone was cautious, testing the temperature of the water. You didn’t bother to meet his gaze, too busy wracking your brain to put together a different outfit—or maybe you needed to change your hair? Should you even bother going at all? Maybe you should suddenly pretend to have a stomachache.

“I’m fine, just rushed.” Another short answer.

“There’s no rush, sugar. They can’t start without us after all.” You gave him a soft laugh, brushing off the comment, but he was right. This night was about him after all—a ceremony awarding him for his accomplishments with the fleet this past year. He’d been going over his speech with you tirelessly every day for the last week, picking apart every line one by one until it was perfect. This was Caleb’s night, so why were you the one feeling so much pressure?

“Hey, look at me for a second.” You did, eyes meeting his in the mirror as you ran another coat of red lipstick over your bottom lip, suddenly questioning the color.

“You can tell me if something's wrong ya’ know. We don’t have to go.” You shook your head in dismissal, breaking the eye contact that was quickly making something well up in your chest, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes against your will.

“Of course we have to go, Caleb. I’m going—I want to go, I’m just trying to hurry up.”

“What was wrong with the last dress? Or the four before that?” He wasn’t teasing but genuinely asking you as he searched for your attention in the mirror again, to no avail. A single tear fell from your eye, effortlessly ruining your makeup, a line of foundation erased as you tried not to let anymore escape.

“They just weren’t right. Nothing is fitting right for some reason.” He wasted no time moving over to you, shirt falling to the floor in the process, but he didn’t care. His eyes were locked on you, noticing the way your face slowly crumpled, head hanging as if there was a thousand-pound weight holding you down.

“Don’t cry, baby. Hey, hey, shh…” His arms wrapped around you, toned chest pressing into your back, the warmth of his skin inescapable as he held you as tightly as he could. Your body gently shook against him as you let the tears fall freely now, the thought of ruining Caleb’s night making your heart even heavier.

“You could wear a burlap sack and you’d still be the most beautiful thing in any room, you know that, right? Why are you being so mean to my pretty girl, hm?” His soft palm snaked it’s way across your chest and neck, cupping your wet cheek, sticking your skin to his. He gently guiding your chin up, your reflection staring back at his now.

“Tell me what you didn’t like about the pink dress.” You subconsciously shrunk against him at the question, the visual of your bare skin against him, only covered by the thin pieces of fabric sending shivers down your spine. The little hairs on the back of your neck stood up, ears growing hot—you were so vulnerable like this.

“Be honest with me this time. Please,” he said, voice thick and syrupy like molasses, almost like he was begging as he craned his head down, resting his chin in the crook of your neck and pressing a feather-light kiss to your face.

“My- my shoulders…they looked too wide in it.” His eyes grew big at the confession before they shifted down in the mirror, locking onto your shoulders. He left another kiss on your cheek, then your jaw, next your neck, trailing them across your collar bone before his full lips finally lingered against the back of your shoulder. Your head slowly fell again, before you heard his voice,

“Don’t look away, sugar.”  You watched his slender fingers graze across your skin, faintly dancing over your shoulder blades along with his lips which were still peppering kissing over your frame. Your breath hitched at the sight of his body against yours, his tall and muscular physique towering over you, making you look so fragile in his grasp.

“What was wrong with the red outfit, hm? I think I liked that one the best.” Your eyes rolled at the question which Caleb caught in the mirror. You hated the way you looked in the red dress. The outfit accentuating every curve, the short length hugging your thighs just a little too tightly. You felt so… naked in that dress—every flaw you’d seen in the mirror on full display in that gown.

“My body just doesn’t look good in it.”

“Your body looks amazing in anything. If I didn’t think I’d want to break the bones of any man that looked, I’d suggest you go just like this.” His eyes were not the same when they met yours this time. They were dark, pupils enlarged, darkening his irises. He looked hungry at the sight of you, like a vampire that hadn’t fed in weeks. His lips watered at the thought of devouring you, getting to see sweat glistening on your bare chest, nipples hardened under his rough fingertips, back arched as he pressed himself into you. The thing he loved the most though was your faces, your bottom lip almost bleeding from how hard your teeth grinded against it as you tried to silence your moans, tears welling up at the corners of your eyes that were desperate to escape once he hit just the right spot inside of your soft walls. Your face and body were the things he dreamed about in his sleep, but they were also what would keep him up at night while you were away. They were the things that made him fist his cock, eyes shut tight as he pictured the artwork known as his girl. He was ravenous for you—always, so why couldn’t you see what he did? Why didn’t the lamb understand what made the lion so hungry for it; what made him hunt day and night just for a taste.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his clothed cock hardened against you. He didn’t grind into you like you wanted, his focus instead on getting his fingers on every inch of you. Your gaze fell again, embarrassment heating your cheeks at the sight of his digits languidly sliding underneath the cups of your bra.

“I won’t tell you again. Look up.” You did. You core grew wetter, dampening the fabric of your panties at the contact.

“You know…” His free hand ghosted over your spine, causing you to shiver at his touch as he unclasped your bra, freeing your flesh. A small moan escaped his lips at the reveal, his fingers quickly found your breasts, large hands cupping them, much to his enjoyment.

“I’d kill anyone who talked bad about you. I would never let anyone speak about my girl the way that you do.” A harsh pinch to your nipple forced your chest to push out towards the mirror, your perfect French manicure gripping the edge of the marble countertop. The sight was absolutely sinful.

“So why do you think that you should be the exception, huh? Do you think you’re above the rules?” Caleb rolled your sensitive nipples between his fingers, reveling in the way you writhed beneath his touch.

“No…” You whined, head slowly falling forward at the sensation, you body going limp against his.

“No? Apologize then.” His voice was harsh suddenly, as you felt your muscles give way, gaze being forced back to the mirror against your will as he used his evol against you. He did say he wouldn’t ask again, instead, he would make you look.

“I-I’m sorry,” It was barely audible, strained out between your soft moans as you pushed your ass against the man behind you, unabashedly wanted to feel some sort of friction between your thighs.

“No no no, not to me. Apologize to my baby, hm?  Look at her and say you’re sorry for being mean.” You tried to turn your head away at the humiliating request, but it was no use, you were practically immobilized between his arms. You looked at yourself in the mirror, body laid bare, chest heaving, ass grinding against Caleb like a bitch in heat.

“I’m sorry for being mean.”

“Aww how nice. See I knew you could be sweet. You always listen so well, my obedient pretty girl.” His right hand left your chest feeling cold as his middle and index fingers found themselves pressed against your lips.

“Get 'em wet for me, baby. Go ahead, it’s okay.” So you listen—you let your lips part, sucking his fingers between them, running your tongue in circles around his knuckles as he slides them in and out of your mouth. “Fuck… you look so good.”

“You want my fingers somewhere else? Been grinding this pussy against me like you need something. Do you want me to make you feel good, hm? Will that make my pretty girl stop crying?” He was mocking you, reveling in the way you squirmed against him as he pressed your hips into the counter.

“Caleb… please,” You said, words muffled by his thick fingers pushing down against your tongue, your saliva dripping halfway down his arm at this point.

“But you’re so mean, baby. Only nice girls get treats. Are you gonna be nice from now on? Gonna' treat my pretty girl better?” He watched as your reflection nodded up and down, pretty little eyes closed tightly, nose scrunched up like a bunny. He was in awe at this sight—he almost wanted to give you your reward without making you work for it...almost.

“Answer me, baby. C’mon, be good for me… please,” His words were strained, like he was getting off just as much as you were without him even being touched. It made your knees buckle a little beneath you, forcing your limp fingers to grip around his forearm, desperately searching for some stability.

“Yes yes I’ll be nice. I promise. Just touch me please.” With that, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, your spit glistening around his digits as they traveled slowly down your body, leaving you painted in your own wetness.

“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen, you know that?” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck as his wet fingers slid beneath the waistband of your panties.

“Fuck this pussy’s so wet already. I can feel your little clit’s already excited, she’s so swollen. Aw, does it hurt, baby?” His muscled thigh forced its way between your legs, spreading them wider as his fingers lightly toyed with your most sensitive spot, soaked fingers rubbing on each side of your clit. Your hole clenched around nothing, juices spilling out against the fabric, desperately wanting to be filled—hungry.

“Look so pretty when you don’t get what you want though. Maybe this is all you should get, huh? After all, mean girls shouldn’t be rewarded, should they?” You squirmed even more at his words, trying to force his fingers to move faster or press against you harder—something. Caleb was having none of it though, his big hand gripping your waist, pinning you still. Whines fell from between your lips at the denial.

“Didn’t you just say you would be good? Were you lying to me again or does this messy hole between your legs make it so you can’t think straight? Don’t tell me my fingers barely touching you makes you this dumb, sugar. That’s cute… but a little pathetic, don’t you think?” He sloppily kissed your skin between words, teeth nipping against the flesh, tongue lapping at your wounds only to bite into you again.

“I guess you can’t think. Is that it? You need me to tell you what to do, hm?” You nodded uncontrollably, that heavy weight moving your muscles against your will once again.

“My pretty girl with the sloppy cunt. Say it.” His thumb found your clit now, hovering over it, just barely touching the aching button… but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until you did what he told you to.

“Caleb please…”

“No more whining. If you’re not saying what I told you to then you shouldn’t be speaking at all. Say you’re my pretty girl.” He freed your waist, certain that you wouldn’t disobey when he had you like this—so pliable. His hand made it’s way to your half-undone hair now, gripping it, as he pushed your face closer to the mirror, your body bent over the sink, reflection painfully close.

You said it… but not the way he wanted you to. Your eyes were on him, words barely audible, attitude palpable through the statement. Without warning the warmth of his fingers on your cunt was quickly gone as he slipped his fingers out of your panties to deliver a swift slap to your clit over the fabric. You screamed out at the painful sensation, which only resulted in another smack against your cunt.

“Do it the right way. Look at my girl while you tell her she’s pretty and mean it.”  You looked at your reflection, chest bare, sweat staining your skin, hair messy from the way Caleb’s fingers gripped it forcing you not to look away. Your eyes were glazed over, lipstick smudged onto your chin—you were a mess, but you said it.

“I- I’m your pretty girl.” Not even a second passed after the words left your lips before Caleb slid the crotch of your panties to the side, fingers pressing all the way against you now. His middle finger, still wet from the impromptu blowjob you’d given it, made it’s way into your tight hole inch by inch.

“See what happens when you’re not a fucking brat? Don’t you know that only good girls get what they want?” You nodded, your head feeling fuzzy as his thick finger forced itself between your walls, its length allowing him to brush against your g-spot with hardly any effort.

“Say it again.” You did, looking yourself in the eyes once more.

“That’s right. You’re my pretty girl who listens so well. My god you are fucking prefect.” You were rewarded with another finger amongst the praise, but he hadn’t touched your clit again. He knew that the second he did, you would fall apart in his arms. He just wasn’t quite done playing with you yet.

“Aw my baby gets so fucking dumb when her holes get filled. How cute… you having trouble with your words again? What is it, sugar? Come on, tell me, you can do it.” His lips were so close to your ear as he spoke, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. His tone was sweet, slightly higher in pitch, as if he were calling out for a stray dog to come eat a treat out of his palm. The condescending sound made you whine out once again, just like a puppy would.

“Aww am I not giving you what you want? Am I being mean to you?” His fingers quickened as he watched you pant, your palms flattened out against the mirror as he rocked you back and forth against his hand.

“Caleb please touch me.”

“I’m already touching you silly girl? What is it, did you want a kiss?” The thought of getting to feel his lips on yours as his fingers fucked harder into you, his tongue lapping at yours, brought more tears to your eyes.

“Yes. Please ‘wanna kiss so bad.” He pushed your head closer to your reflection, until your lips were only a millimeter from the mirror,

“Go on then. Give her a kiss—such a pretty girl deserves a kiss.” His cock ached in his pants against you as he watched it—the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen so desperate for his fingers that she was kissing herself in the mirror just because he’d said so.

“Goood girl. Good job being so sweet. Tell her you’re sorry again for hurting her feelings.” His thumb finally nudged against your clit again, slowly rubbing small little circles around it. The stimulation made you cry once more as he found just the right rhythm to keep you on the edge as apologies flowed from your lips.

“You must be getting close, beautiful. This little pussy is grippin’ on my fingers so tight. She doesn’t wanna let me go. Do you need to cum, baby?”

“Yes yes wanna cum so bad for you.”

“Aw I know I know. It’s okay. I’ll stop being mean to you since you’ve been so sweet. Tell me where you wanna cum, sugar.” The question only made you squeeze him tighter, your sloppy hole clenching and spasming around his fingers and you pressed your lips to the mirror once more, leaving little red kiss marks all over the reflection of your face. Your hips free now, you pushed into his cock again, grinding against the fabric of his pants, leaving an even bigger wet spot than before.

“No no no, you can’t have my cock. This is about you, just wanna make you feel good, yeah?” You whined louder at the denial, your voice trembling as you shook from your sobs.

“Don’t cry anymore, baby. I’ll do you one better yeah?” He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, despite the fight your hole tried to put up in keeping him inside. His hand’s grip on your hair was gone, but not before he used it to force you to turn towards him for the first time. He lowered himself to his knees, rough hands gently grabbing your thigh as he placed it over his shoulder.

“You are a fucking goddess,” he whispered as he brought his mouth between your legs, placing tiny kisses on the inside of your thighs. “Shouldn’t I pay my respects?” He wasted no more time getting his tongue on your cunt, pushing your lips apart as he savored your juices in his mouth. Your fingers tangled into his hair now, pushing your hips into his face as he gripped your thigh even tighter making you moan out at the mix of pain and pleasure. You were already so close, the feeling of Caleb suckling on your puffy clit, the rhythm just how he knew you liked it, made you beg to cum once more in no time.

“So fucking gorgeous, grinding on my tongue. Go on, say it one more time for me. Say you’re my pretty girl. Say you’ll never be mean to yourself again and I’ll let you cum for me.” He looked up at you as the words spilled out of your mouth just like he said, the look on your face intoxicating as you screamed out his name.

“Gooood girl you can cum for me. C'mon pretty girl, cum in my mouth, it’s okay. You earned it.” He held you still, tongue continuing to harass your poor little clit as you writhed above him. Your legs gave out, quivering as he continued to lick up the mess you’d made.

“Don’t worry, baby. I got you. Keep cumming for me, let it all out,” he said, voice sweet once again as he steadied you with his hands and you rode out the rest of your orgasm.

“You did so good. I’m so proud of you.” He pressed one more kiss to your clit, as you finished coming down, your body finally feeling steady in his arms. He stood up, towering over you once again, face wet with your juices as he held your fingers between his. His other hand cupped your face, thumb softly wiping away your tears.

“I love you more than anything and I want you to know that you have nothing to be insecure about. Even if you’re not feeling your best, you can always talk to me and I’ll remind you of just how beautiful you are. Okay?” You nodded, looking up at him with big eyes, your heart hurting in your chest from how full it felt in that moment.

“I love you, Caleb.”

“I can tell because you let me ruin your makeup when we only have…” He glanced over at my phone on the countertop, “thirty minutes before the car gets here.”

“Thirty minutes?” You shouted out, pushing against Caleb’s chest.

“You’ll be fine. I’ll make them wait,” he said, reaching down to pick up the white dress shirt that had been previously discarded onto the floor. 

“And hey, put on that red dress. I’ll need something pretty to look at while everyone else is droning on about how great I am.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh that perfectly harmonized with his as you threw the balled up dress towards him.

“Now you’ll have to iron them both.” He hummed in acceptance, violet irises glimmering at the sight of you.

“Anything for you, gorgeous.”

[kitasuno]

we fly together | kageyama tobio x reader

in which kageyama tobio is born for several things: the court, his team, and you. and he really, really wants to marry you.

wc: 766 | gn reader | little glimpses of your relationship with tobio over the years

There are several givens in Kageyama Tobio’s life. 

There’s volleyball. It’s in his blood. Volleyball is shoes squeaking on floors, the shrill of a whistle, Nikuman after practice, and that sweet, sweet feeling of connection– fingers brushing yellow and blue leather and palms aching after a serve. Kageyama Tobio was born for the court and born to fly. 

His team is one of them. There’s Sugawara, who still treats him to yakitori and an Asahi Dry (or three) whenever he’s back in Miyagi. Daichi sends him assorted nuts from Sendai every once in a while and Nishinoya mass e-mails him slightly blurry pictures of his life abroad on New Years. Ushijima buys electrolytes for him and Kourai. Shouyou is, well, Shouyou, and Kageyama counts him as two givens. 

There’s the small things too: he takes a little too long to read Kanji, he buys a new face wash every month, he will always avoid rush hour. 

And then, he thinks, there’s you. 

It hits him in full force in the middle of the street on a Tuesday evening as he holds a plastic bag of groceries. It also, consequently, renders him immobile for ten minutes, because Tobio had never been one to dwell on the givens. But as he stands on the pavement and his bag carries the burden of hashi for two, yogurt for two, two packs of sandwiches and four bags of gummies,

 ( because you really like those gummies: and Tobio had thought, if you like the grape flavor, then you should also try the strawberry. And if you wanted to try something new, you might crave the fizzy Cola ones. And if you liked the Cola ones, then he had to buy the Ramune flavored ones, too ) 

Tobio gets the urge to buy a ring. And an urge, no, a craving to marry you. 

Tobio remembers study sessions in high school and desperate makeouts in Karasuno’s dusty storage closet. He remembers the firsts: first conversation, first fight, first kiss, first date. Sprinting on beaches before the sun kissed the horizon and laying underneath the stars. He remembers graduation under cherry blossoms and pressing his second button into your palm with red cheeks and shaking hands. 

There were tears, too. Anger as he realized he couldn’t, for once, be selfish and have both you and professional volleyball. Anger as you had cried and cried and cried in his arms because you were getting your degree in Miyagi and he was moving to Tokyo. Anger as you had suggested breaking things off because you knew that Kageyama was born for the court. To fly. 

And you had said, between tears, that Tokyo was his potential. Because you knew him, and you knew that he didn’t like texting and that he wasn’t good at communicating, but you somehow underestimated how much you meant to him. Then: you had stopped crying because Kageyama was crying. And you had never seen Kageyama cry. 

You were there when Kageyama started on the National Team, standing in the bleachers with the biggest smile he had ever seen, jumping as you turned to show him the Kageyama embroidered on the back of your jersey. You were there when he accepted his position on the Adlers, and watched their broadcasted games behind textbooks and journals and pencils from your dorm in Sendai. 

Kageyama was there when you called him sobbing because the pipes in your dorm leaked. He was there when you got fired from your part time job for slapping a customer. Begrudgingly, he was there when you asked him to have Oikawa Tooru sign twelve jerseys for your friends at university. And then, he was there when you graduated college, diploma in hand and a blush on your cheeks as you pressed your button into his palm even though you really weren’t supposed to do that. 

Now you’re in Tokyo, having accepted his slightly bashful request for you to move in with him– in a nice apartment on the fourteenth floor overlooking the city; because even though he didn’t really like heights, he knew you loved city lights and people-watching. And if he had to cover his face when he saw the nameplate next to your shared apartment that read Kageyama, well. You didn’t have to know that. 

He’s still on the street, and he’s still holding his grocery bag, but his eyes are firm because he really wants to make your last name Kageyama. 

So he makes a phone call. 

“Tanaka-san,” He says before his former upperclassman can react. “Where did you buy Shimizu’s ring?” 

[sukunasluvrr]

Nerd Gojo who was an absolute simp for you. The poor man so badly wanted to get his hands on you in some way, but he knew he wouldn’t have a chance. You were way out of his league. You, the popular girl who hung around people like Sukuna and Kenjaku and were always present in frat parties. Often ending up with a pillow between his legs and humping the poor fabric like a desperate dog while whimpering your name over and over again, leaving the sheet soiled with his sticky sperm and a hint of shame in his actions, how did he end up this down bad for you?? Nobody knew.

He’d often help you out with your studies and tests, often doing them for you after you bat your lashes prettily at him and asked him real nicely. It really didn’t take much to convince him, looking at you with puppy eyes and his glasses that sat so adorably on the bridge of his nose as he nods and mutters „of course..“ under his breath. But he couldn’t take it anymore, one day while you were in his dorm, him helping you with a project- he couldn’t help himself. He was already half hard because of your tits being in his sight and the smell of your perfume that invaded his senses. Looking at you with his usual puppy like stare as he took all the courage he had. “Can you… stay the night?” He asked almost in a hushed tone. You had to look twice to make sure you weren’t imagining this,

“You want me to stay the night?” You asked him, to make sure you didn’t just hear it wrong, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation, hands moving to your hips as he got onto his knees- actually begging for you

“Please… just give me this one night… I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, this night and the rest of our semesters… but I’m begging you, I just wanna feel you for once…“

He was so desperate… it was almost cute. And his offer was quite tempting, so you agreed and he practically grinned in excitement. Already pulling you to the bed and kissing over your skin in soft pecks, being so gentle with it, like you could break if he went to hard and rough on you. His hands big enough to cup both your breasts through your top as he started kneading the soft subtle flesh, small whimpers leaving him from the feeling as he made you lay back on his bed, straddling your hips and grinding lightly against you, feeling the imprint of his length pressing against you. He already felt big through the fabric and the man wasn’t even fully hard yet!! He was still gentle with you, constantly asking if you really want this to which you nodded and he kept going. Removing his glasses and putting them on the nightstand as he started undressing you, lips pressing against your neck. Getting your top and bra off with practiced ease, without even wasting another second his lips were kissing around your breasts, kissing the underside of one while the other was being teased by his hand, thumb circling around your nippe and lightly pinching it while his mouth worked on coating the other in his spit, tongue circling around it and softly sucking on it like he was worshipping your chest. Earning small sounds from your lips and your hand moving into his hair while he kept this up for a few minutes until you remembered his offer, softly pulling him off your chest

„You said you’ll let me do anything, right?“ your voice a little shaky and breathy from arousal, „and I wanna ride you, pretty“ and god you could see the wheels turning in his head as he made sense of your words. Hearts practically forming in his eyes as he nods eagerly, already sitting up to remove his clothes with shaky hands

„Yes!! Yes yes yes, anything for you“ the moment his clothes were off and he was left in his boxers with a obvious tent standing out, his hands were already on you again, your words seeming to having made him only 10 times more desperate and harder for you, pulling at your sweatpants to get them off of you and pulling you on top of him, eyebrows furrowed in a pathetic way and puppy eyes looking up at you

„do whatever you want to me… spit on me, use me like a stupid toy, I just want you… I need you“

His words so desperate and full of emotion as his hips started bucking up into yours, moaning at the stimulation to his sensitive clothed cock. Your hands finding way to to his chest for stability as you tried to get him to calm down, not even having gotten your panties off yet and the slick was smearing over your pussy lips almost uncomfortably

„ 'toru… calm down for a second, I’m not going anywhere“

You tried to reason with him, but your words went to blank ears while he kept grinding up against you, hands already starting to pull his boxers down and fingers pulling at the strings of your panties to get the flimsy fabric off your skin and get access to your sweet pussy, accidentally ripping the fabric and pulling it off, the moment he made eye contact with your glistened cunt he felt like he was in a dream, his movements stopping for once and hands parting your thighs a little more and pulling your closer to his hard and proud standing dick. Making you gasp for a second as you saw it, already knowing that the stretch would probably make your poor pussy remember him for the next few weeks. He of course noticed your stare, and he thought you were disappointed

„it’s not really that big… sorry to disa-„ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his words before you interrupted him

„NO! No, oh my god, you’re probably the biggest I’ve ever had“

And you could’ve sworn you saw a light twitch in his dick when he heard your words, a soft hint of red tinting his pale cheeks, watching as your hand moves around his cock to give a few pumps to it, watching and listening for his reactions while he gave the prettiest whimpers from himself, hips bucking into your hand for more, before he could get a word out, he watched you let a globe of spit drop onto his tip, making his lower stomach cave in a little from the sensation on his sensitive dick. Already starting to beg for more, eyes half lidded while he watched you tease his poor, already angry looking tip. Your hand smearing the salvia over his cock to lube him up a bit before you moved, hovering a little over him with your knees pressed into the mattress and your entrance teasing his tip, letting it slip in and out faintly but never truly sinking down on him, making him almost cry while he endured the sweet torture of your pussy. The feel of your slick hole against his sticky tip almost too much to bear, having spend weeks if not months imagining how it would feel while fisting his dick to the thought of you almost pathetically at night. And now he was so so close to getting what he wanted, to feeling the slick warm walls of your heat around his throbbing length. It took some encouragement to actually have you sink down on him, the stretch mean and making you hiss a little, earning a small look of concern from him, his hands moving to your hips and rubbing soft circles into your skin in an attempt to soothe you while you got used to the size of him inside of you. The moment you started moving your hips against him, he felt like he ascended to heaven. A small groan leaving him and head titling back into the pillows to focus on your hips working to bounce along his dick, not able to keep his own from thrusting up into you from below- weakly at first but picking up in pace and firmness the faster you got. His eyes fixated on your face to look at every crunch of your nose, brows and the part of your lips whole moans left your mouth, his moans and groans being heard along yours, as well as the undeniable sound of skin against skin and the soft squelches of your cunt working on his dick to milk his cum from him. His fingers still digging into your hips but not moving them to bring you out of rhythm. Each stroke of your warm cunt around his dick had his mouth gaping and slutty sounds escaping from it. Your slick already trickling down his length and coating his balls, surely leaving a mess on the sheets but neither of you cared when you were riding him so good. Trying to keep his eyes on you and watching your tits bounce, unable to resist but move his hands to cup the soft flesh and knead gently

„you’re so pretty sweetheart…“ he muttered under his breath, his voice sounding somewhat shaky along with his whines and moans of pleasure

„don’t wanna be without your pussy ever again… ngh- fuck…. Keep going“

It was embarrassing to say he got close already, having been hard ever since you were with him and being so needy for you he couldn’t control himself, a pathetic whine leaving and eyebrows furrowing as his eyes closed „mhhff…. I’m gonna cum…“ his words were barely heard by you, wing lost in your own world and almost in a trance while using his dick to get yourself off, but you weren’t gonna be cruel… how could you be cruel to the sweet, nerd guy, who collected comics and who actually knew something about female anatomy???

„Go on Baby… cum for me“ giving him the go ahead because you were close yourself. Working the both of you to the edge at the same time, moaning your name as he came with a thrust up into your cunt, hands pulling you down by your hips to keep your warm walls around his dick, feeling your inner walls throb around his spent cock while you came at the same time as him was even better, feeling like he was being killed by your tight heat- breath coming out in gasps and brain going blank. „Ohhh ffffucck“ was all he could mutter out, you still gave weak grinds of your hips against his, rising out your own pleasure before you came to a stop and slumped down against him, face against his chest and listening to his fast heartbeat. Keeping him seethed inside of you, too exhausted to have him pull out just yet. But.. to your shock, he was still hard. Barely even calmed down from his highs and already bucking into you again

„Mff, another round??“

[yanderenightmare]

Nanami Kento

♡ TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap

♡ FEM reader

You started coming to his home office once a week. 

Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face. 

But you came around to like him soon enough. 

He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started. 

And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.

When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.

He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.

Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.

You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.

He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat. 

He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.

He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more. 

He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.

He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~” 

He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off. 

It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.

He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.

He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.

“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.

His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.

You take it in with doe eyes.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”

You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”

He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”

“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.

“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy. 

But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap. 

“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.” 

He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow. 

“There you go, just like that. Good.”

You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.

Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?

You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.

So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...

You'll do it.

You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.

It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.

In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.

“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.

“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”

You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”

“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”

You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly. 

He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”

You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips. 

It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.

He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.

“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.

He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.

But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.

“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.

Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking. 

“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.

Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk. 

He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.

You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.

“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees. 

His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.

He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.

You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.

“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.

“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”

But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.

“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.

You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.

“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile. 

You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.

But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.

“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.

His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.

He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt. 

“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.

Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.

The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.

You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.

You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.

There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath. 

He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing. 

It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide. 

He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you. 

It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.

Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.

He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.

You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.

“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips. 

You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.

“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.

He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.

“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum. 

He smiles.

“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”

You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.

But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.

“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”

You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”

You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”

♡ P2 ♡ NANAMI KENTO masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[wxwrites]

arcane milf sfw/nsfw headcanons! (f!reader)

ft: ambessa, sevika, cassandra, grayson.

SEVIKA | SFW

sevika, who definitely has a hard time learning how to be vulnerable with you. once you eventually peel away the thick layers of her gruff and cold exterior, you'll find a woman who only wants what's best for her girl.

who comes home bruised, battered, and on her last thread as she confides in the comforting and soft skin of the lovely lady waiting for her at home. she'll sigh deeply into the crook of your neck and wrap her flesh arm around you as you help pry off the now broken robotic arm.

who keeps you sat prettily on her lap as she plays against the crass and nasty men of the undercity. she'll keep her flesh hand on your waist as she claws at the cards with the other. the men watch warily as you pull the cigarillo from her lips and pull your own drag off of it, giving them a mocking smirk after.

she would move heaven and hell for you. who would do everything in her power to provide you with the life that you deserve. while she may be cold and hard on the outside, her devotion and loyalty to you and everything you are is unwavering.

NSFW

she can be nasty when she wants to be, she'll lick and suck at all of the sensitive and weak points on your neck. she'll pin your wrists above your head with her mechanical arm as she trails her cold fingers down your chest, leaving faint red marks in their wake.

much more of a giver than a taker. she likes to watch you writhe, squirm, and plead as she stares down at you. she loves the ego boost she gets as you grovel at her, begging for her to touch you.

but other times, if she notices that you're a little more down and out of it– she'll go slower. she'll undress you gently and press chaste kisses into your skin, gently running her hands up and down your back and waist. she'll lay you out on the bed and devour you until you forget the prior worries.

catch an attitude with her? she'll make sure you remember her handprints on your ass for days to come. she'll press your chest into the bed as she pounds into you, wrapping her fist into your hair as she cranes your head back.

she's not crazy on sappy aftercare, but she'll hold you to her chest as she lights another cigarette, scratching at your scalp softly with her metal claws. if you really need it, she'll murmur additional praises and a few "i love you's" until you feel better.

GRAYSON | SFW

(i miss my girl)

grayson, who is often absorbed and swallowed in her work– still manages to make as much time as she can for her sweet girl. whether it's stopping by your apartment on her lunch break, or letting you curl up on the couch in her office, she'll take care of you.

she'll take you on romantic dates on her time off. she'll buy you a new dress for nearly each one and help you dress, pressing kisses to your skin as she slides the straps onto your shoulders. wherever you wanna go, she'll take you.

once she comes home from a too stressful day at work, she'll lay her head in your lap as water boils in a tea kettle. she dozes off as you stroke your hands through her hair, keeping your focus on the book in front of you.

she'll keep a nice fire going on the colder nights, holding you against her as you ramble about your job or studies, both of you sipping on a hot mug of tea.

she's protective and stern when she needs to be, but she also trusts you to be your own person. she doesn't let you go too far without her and prefers when you keep your arms linked, or your hand on her bicep.

NSFW

she's definitely on the softer side of being dominant. she loves watching you writhe in the same way that sevika does, but she'll be much more gentle about it. rather than pinning you to the bed, she'll wrap a strong arm around you as she holds your back against her chest, teasing her hands up and down your thighs.

she'll coo sweet praises into your ear, telling you how pretty and sweet you are.

however, don't take her kindness for granted in any way– she'll pry your legs open and hold them with her own. once she's finished with forcing you over the edge again, and again, she'll wipe the tears off your face and pout at you.

she prefers giving as well, she likes making you feel good, seeing you moan and gasp because of what she's doing sets something off inside of her.

as soft as she may be, she will fuck you within an inch of your life when presented the chance. she had a rough day at work? you better prepare yourself for what's to come.

she takes aftercare very seriously, as well. she'll wipe you down with a warm, wet towel and kiss all of the marks and bruises she left. there is no exception to this treatment, either. she'll lower you into a warm bath and wash you thoroughly.

CASSANDRA | SFW

cassandra, who struggles with balancing her job as a councilwoman and it often sends her home frustrated. but, she does her absolute best to never let you see that side of her. she's doting and attentive, making sure all of your needs are met.

she's stricter than the others, understanding that her position also puts you at more risk. she rarely let's you go out on your own, ensuring you always have a guard of some kind with you.

she loves when you write her letters or notes, whether you send them to work with her, or simply hand them to her.

she's sweet and caring, but she's the last person you would want to cross, especially when it comes to you. we saw how she pulled that gun on cait and vi, and she wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

on the rare occasion her frustration is projected onto you, she takes the space to collect her emotions before returning. she'll pull you into her lap and stroke your hair as your cheek rests on her shoulder. she'll apologize sincerely, correcting herself and immediately addressing her behavior.

she'll often send a maid to your quarters after she had already gotten up for the day, making sure you receive a nice breakfast in bed, filled with all of your favorite foods.

NSFW

some would say she's the strictest out of all of them. she doesn't tolerate brattiness or disobedience in any capacity. she expects proper behavior and obedience from you.

on the rare occasion you do choose to disobey her, it's normally due to lack of attention. she'll strap a vibrator against you and turn her attention to the work on her desk. listening to your whimpers and cries is a melody to her, satisfied as she finally breaks your bratty attitude.

she'll eventually untie you and ask if you're going to choose to behave. once you agree, she'll return to her usual self, dropping the once cruel façade.

similar to grayson, she'll wipe the tears from your face and press a gentle kiss to your head. she'll slowly work through your orgasm, singing gentle praises as she holds your trembling form.

she lovesss sticking her fingers into your mouth, watching you grovel at her feet as you sit on your knees and stare up at her.

she's also really great with aftercare. she's naturally nurturing, she'll coax you out of the submissive headspace slowly and help you sit up. once you have food and water in your system, she'll take you to the shower and clean you off.

AMBESSA | SFW

ambessa, who is difficult to work with sometimes. her stubbornness and callousness make it hard for her to properly express her love and appreciation for you.

she often does it through sending gifts or bringing back treasures and jewelry during her escapades. don't get me wrong, she adores you. but, growing up in such a rough environment has made it hard for her to understand how to treat you.

on the extremely rare occasion she's vulnerable with you, she shows it by slowly shedding her armor and sitting on your shared bed, head in her hands. she lets you rub your hands over her shoulders as you remain quiet, letting her open up when she's ready.

she loves when you sit on her lap during meetings, keeping her hand tight on your thigh or hips– smirking as the men before you two gawk at your pretty figure.

she likes watching you prance around the gala's she attends, admiring your pretty body through the dress she had chosen for you earlier that evening.

NSFW

you think sevika is rough? you're definitely in for it with her.

she likes it when you choose to be a little bratty and disobedient, she gets off on putting you right back into your place.

she'll grab you by your jaw a little too tightly and stare down at you hungrily, tilting your head back painfully. she likes wrapping her hand around your throat and listening to your whimpers, watching as you take in little gasps.

she's definitely the type to strap you so hard you walk with a limp the next day. she'll watch you smugly and tease you about it, askin' what happened to you in front of your peers.

she's more likely to degrade you than the others, calling you her pretty slut as she chokes you on her fingers.

she would DEFINITELY like watching grind against her thigh or leg, gripping your hips tightly as she controls your pace.

she likes when you're on top, forcing you to work for your orgasm if she's feeling a little extra mean. she knows you can't get off without her help, so she'll laugh as she watches you struggle.

she might not seem like it, but she is very good with aftercare. she makes up for her cruelness with a massage to the bruises on your skin. she'll wipe you off and help you drink your water, guiding your hands gently. she reminds you of how much she loves you, and means nothing of the mean words she says.

[dmitriene]

cw: reader is a ghost, simon is a messed man, really strange making out.

simon ghost riley knows there's something living in those damned walls of his apartment, something haunted, barely able to catch in his rough grasp, you, who mess with his already fucked up head so cruelly, giggle with giddy sounds reverberating around the place, in his ears, driving him mad, stealing his things, sometimes hiding, sometimes as if taking them with yourself, giving back only after a couple of days, if not weeks.

he's not the one to believe in ghost's, not while it's simon's second name, but you aren't a human, he hears you, knows you're all around his place, never leaving, so he's forced to accept this reality, where you float at the night in the dark corners of his bedroom, humming, cooing a melody he can't understand, but it's cloaks him to sleep everytime he's back from a long deployment.

simon notices that you ain't leaving even when he dissappears for month, but you settle quietly for a time when you notice that he's snappy, always alerted, sleeping with a knife under his pillow, so you don't mess with him, even though he can't do anything to you, somehow, it's unpleasant to see him so broken, that's why you let him rest, sitting in the walls and corners, just waiting.

you only take matters into your own hands when simon hasn't been out of bed for a week, except to warm up a quick meal and wash his face, despite that even such a short routine is difficult to him, so you've planned to comfort him, to encourage him to do something, getting out late at night and floating gently to his bed, where he sleeps, sprawled on his back, not even flinching when you settle on top, straddling.

trailing your fingers over the curve of his cheekbones, turning dark at where stubble had outgrown just like his hair, inkept, because he couldn't make himself look in the mirror more than a couple minutes to shave, as your touch descended lower, his lips open slightly, some old, raised scar hiding there along his skin, pale with age, and then you touched again and again, studying his features, both rugged and delicate, before stopping at the waistband of his pajama pants.

you can't take them off, not in your haunted state, but you can play with simon, your touches feeling like a blow of a cold wind, insistent, piercing, making him flinch, thick eyebrows knitting over his eyes, eyelashes quivering, awakening with each glide of you, as you rolled your hips, seated right over his crotch, his eyes finally breaking open, adjusting not to the pitch darkness of the room, but the glow of you in front of his lidded, hazy gaze.

exposed in your strange existence, to the point where he can count your every bone through the transparent shell of your ghostly body, your ribs, hips that straddle around his own, nothing between your legs, except unfamiliar, burning warmth, the curve of your breasts, a little smile playing at your lips, sharp, teasing, it's not nice, and either ain't bad, but what's matters the most is that he can feel you.

simon's hand cupping the round curve of your hip, tugging, feeling both the sharpness of your bone and a coldness of the shell, barrier that holds it all in, and you gasp, eyes wide open, shocked, glancing over at where you can feel the heaviness of his touch, rough and calloused, making your spine shiver, your hips squirming, body pressing down on him, and he groans.

your existence is something he can't quite comprehend, but you're warm, been patient with him, and nuzzled needily at him while he slept, so perhaps, he should give you what you wanted, a chance for a little game, his hand holding you down roughly, pinning against his crotch, cock swelling warm and throbbing beneath you, eliciting a hushed, echoing keen from your mouth, as he cups a tentative palm where your pussy should be, digging, and you react instantly.

arching with curling toes, swell of your ass perched out, squishy when his fingers trail over there, sinking in, making you slump forward over his sinewy chest, curling your clawing fingers in his shirt, and you know that simon is not just a man, but someone that can touch the death, his fingers sinking somewhere deeper into you, so easily, without resistance, making your body tremble as if alive, and there's more for you to know about him, after.

main masterlist. quidelines.