#now what's interesting about this was how it scanned.

[ceoofsammonroe]

What We Do In The Shadows - James Kelly Smut

Summary: You meet James at a club that your friends had dragged you to and you both find what you’ve been looking for, hidden in the depth of the shadows.

Warnings: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, public sex, reader and James get freaky in a dark corner of a club, exhibitionism, handjob (James receiving), fingering (reader receiving), grinding, alcohol consumption, drink sharing, use of pet names (doll, baby, etc.), teasing, begging, mentions of smoking, as always James is a constant yapper.

Masterlist

The low thumping of a gritty bass vibrated through your body as you idly sipped on the remnants of your drink.

Your friends danced around you, laughing and jumping beneath the haze of fog and strobe lighting. You swayed along with them, trying to match their energy but not quite hitting the mark.

They had dragged you out to this club after staging a makeshift intervention about how you were supposedly turning into a hermit. They swore that you were far too young and hot to be spending every night hulled away in your home and insisted you come out with them tonight to let loose and ‘get some’.

You’d begrudgingly agreed and went with them on the pretense that you’d just be hanging out and not searching for any random hookup. However, now that you were here, you found yourself scanning the dark room for anyone that would catch your attention.

It was pointless, though. Every face you saw looked just like the repetitive boring supply that drove you to reclusiveness in the first place.

It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in having some fun. It was just that nothing seemed to spark your interest. Every guy felt the same, forcing you into a monotonous rhythm that was unfulfilling and unsatisfying.

You wanted something that would excite you, that would make you feel alive again, but that conquest was growing more and more hopeless with every passing moment.

James had a headache.

The pounding of the overly loud music was hammering against his skull and the too bright flashes of lights in the otherwise dark room were disorienting.

God, he was getting old.

He took a swig of his beer, rubbing his thumb against the drops of condensation on the glass bottle.

His coworker, Adam, had tricked him into coming out tonight — much to James’ disdain. This was not his usual scene. In fact, his usual scene was relaxing on his couch in the comfort of his own home.

“You could at least pretend to be having fun,” Adam sighed, giving him a pointed look.

“You said we were goin’ out for drinks,” James retorted, leaning against the small table they were standing beside.

“Are we not drinking?” Adam asked, gesturing to the beers they each had in their hands.

James rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he said, “I thought we were goin’ to a bar. Somewhere we could watch the game or somethin’. Not some place this…chaotic.”

“Look, man, someone had to drag you out of that cave you’re always hiding in,” Adam shrugged, taking another drink of his beer. “You need to go out, see people. You need friends.”

“I have friends…” James scoffed, though even he didn’t sound convinced. “I mean, we’re friends.”

“We’re work friends,” Adam corrected him. “That doesn’t count. Besides, dude, you gotta get laid. When was the last time you got any?”

James felt his cheeks warm at the question and he didn’t feel particularly inclined to answer. Instead, he raised his empty bottle and said, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

He weaved through the sweaty crowd, grimacing to himself as he made his way to the bar. He rubbed his temples as he waited for another beer, thanking the bartender once he was given a fresh bottle.

His eyes scanned the crowd briefly, looking for anyone that might pique his interest before he shook his head with a sigh.

Truthfully, James really hadn’t gotten any in a long time. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be getting laid — he was a man, after all — or that women weren’t interested in him. He’d had plenty of girls show him interest, it just all seemed like too much work.

He didn’t understand why there were so many steps nowadays to gauge whether or not you even wanted to pursue something with someone. Maybe it was old fashioned, but James missed the feeling of just connecting with someone.

He let out a huff, taking a swig of his drink and turning to go back and tell Adam he was going to go home.

He stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on someone across the room.

You felt his eyes on you before you saw him.

The ruggedly handsome man at the bar looked somewhat startled when your gaze locked with his, but he didn’t break the eye contact. Instead, he tilted his head to the side as his lips pulled up in an intrigued smile.

Something about the way he was looking at you ignited a spark in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You noticed yourself swaying to the music a little more sensually, relishing in the way his eyes slowly trailed up and down your body, appreciatively.

You looked away from him momentarily, turning to your friends as you said, “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

You made your way through the crowd, watching his grin widen as he raised his bottle to his lips. He looked at you expectantly as you approached him, seemingly waiting for you to make the first move.

With a smirk, you turned away from him and faced the bar like you’d only walked over to order a drink. He nodded, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he let out a deep chuckle.

He leaned in closer to you, his lips hovering near your ear as he said, “If the goal is to get me beggin’ for your attention…it’s workin’.”

You glanced over at him with a raised brow, making a show of giving him a scrutinizing once over.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, grinning up at him, “didn’t see you there.”

“Right, right…” he drawled, biting back an amused smile. “Well, since I’ve got you here now, I’m James.” He waited, eyebrows raised as silence passed between you. “Are you gonna tell me your name, or…?”

“You haven’t earned my name yet, James,” you told him, leaning against the bar with a tilt of your head. “Although, that begging you mentioned earlier might give you an advantage.”

James breathed out a laugh, shaking his head as his eyes sparkled with interest. He focused on your face, narrowing his gaze as if he was trying to figure you out.

“Can I at least buy you a drink?” James asked, gesturing to the bar.

You looked down at the beer in his hand, smirking as you took it from him and said, “This one will do, thanks.”

James blinked as his mouth opened and closed, caught off guard by your boldness. His attention was quickly redirected to the way your lips wrapped around the bottle as you downed the rest of the drink. He fought back a groan as you licked the remaining droplets from your lips, slamming the empty bottle on the counter and taking a step closer to him.

You trailed your fingers down his arm before grabbing his hand, pulling him with you as you said, “Dance with me, James.”

James wasn’t a dancer — never had been — but, as you asked him to dance, he couldn’t possibly refuse. He felt entranced, like you’d bewitched him somehow and trapped him under your spell. He didn’t have a single complaint about it, though.

He followed you out to the dance floor, his eyes never once leaving yours. There was a growing tension between you, a heated tether that was pulling you closer together.

As you melded in with the crowd of moving bodies, you gripped the front of James’ shirt and pulled him into you. His hands gripped your hips as he glanced around at the rest of the crowd before looking back down at you, a sheepish grin on his face.

“I don’t really know what I’m doin’ out here, doll,” he said, though he made no move to leave. His thumb rubbed the fabric of your dress as he leaned down closer and asked, “You gonna show me?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” you smirked, reaching up to trace your fingers over his brow. “Close your eyes.”

James’ eyes fluttered shut as he released a shaky breath, waiting eagerly for your next move.

You ran your fingers along the edges of his ears as you said, “Listen to the sound of the music. Focus on it. Block out all the other chatter.” James shivered, but did as you said. You moved your touch down the sides of his neck, placing your hands flat on his chest. “Feel the pulsing of the bass inside of you, like a heartbeat. Let it meld with your own.” James all but groaned at the feeling of your soft hands rubbing against his chest, but he focused on the task at hand. He honed in on the deep vibrations, unable to tell where his heartbeat ended and the bass began. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tip-toes to whisper in his ear. “Now, feel the person in your arms. Feel how my body molds against yours. Move with it, with the music.”

James’ breath hitched as you placed a soft kiss beneath his ear. His eyes opened, blown pupils staring down at you with a mix of desire and curiosity.

Slowly, you began to move with the music. His body moved in time with yours as his hands slid around to your lower back, pressing you closer against him.

His body felt firm against your own, the faint scent of smoke and cedar swirling around you. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost as if he was afraid he’d break you. He quickly fell into the rhythm, letting himself go as the heat built between you.

“See? You’re a natural,” you grinned, swaying your hips to the rhythm.

“It helps havin’ a hot teacher,” James smirked, leaning down until his face was a few inches from yours. “Although, it kinda makes a guy wanna misbehave.”

The friction of your bodies was tantalizing, wrapping you both in a haze that had nothing to do with the fog and smoke in the air.

James’ gaze flickered down to your lips as his tongue darted out to wet his own. He leaned in, slowly, and you could feel your body humming with anticipation. He let his lips just barely brush against yours before he gripped your hips and turned you around, pressing your back against his chest.

Your breath caught in your throat as he wrapped his arms around your waist, brushing his lips against your ear.

“Do you feel what you’re doin’ to me, doll?” James breathed, pressing his hips against your ass to let you feel the growing hardness beneath his jeans. “You’ve got me hypnotized.”

You bit your lip as he nipped at your earlobe, feeling scatters of goosebumps erupt along your skin. His breath fanned against your neck as he trailed soft kisses down to your shoulder.

“Maybe that was my plan all along,” you quipped, reaching back to tangle your fingers in his hair. It was softer than you’d expected, feeling silky to the touch. “To seduce you and lure you into my clutches.”

You danced to the music, intentionally grinding your ass back against him. James groaned in your neck, gripping your hips as he rocked into you.

“Fuck, baby,” he cursed, feeling desire burning through him like a wildfire. “You won’t hear me complainin’.”

James’ cock pulsed in time with his heart, nestled against the curve of your ass. He had to fight the urge to rip your dress off and fuck you right there — in the middle of the dance floor. He hadn’t felt this kind of raw need in a very long time and he was quickly losing his resolve.

Everywhere James touched felt electric as his hands roamed across the fabric of your dress. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had chemistry this natural with someone. It was like your bodies had known each other for a lifetime, and god did they want to reunite.

You tightened your fist in his hair as he grazed his teeth along your shoulder, using your free hand to guide one of his down your thigh.

He caught the hint, chuckling against your ear as he gripped the plush flesh. He let his hand disappear beneath the skirt of your dress, softly trailing his fingertips up and down the inside of your thigh.

Your skin felt hot beneath his teasing touch, flushed and glistening with sweat. There was a tightness growing in your lower belly, nearly making you forget where you were. Your head leaned back against his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut, the pounding of your heart nearly drowning out the music.

James could feel the heat of your desire between your thighs and his mind was filled with thoughts of touching you, feeling you, tasting you. He noticed how your breathing quickened and the subtle way you parted your legs, and he couldn’t resist moving his hand a little higher to brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

Your eyes shot open as you gasped, tugging sharply on his hair. His touch was fleeting, teasing you before moving down your other thigh.

You turned back around to face him, your knees nearly buckling beneath the look of want in his eyes.

“That’s awfully bold,” you said, sounding as breathless as you felt. “Copping a feel of a stranger in a crowded club.”

He gripped your chin, tilting your head back and pulling your face close to his as he whispered, “Wanna see what else I can do in a crowded club?”

He trailed his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling it down as he leaned forward and took it between his teeth. You inhaled a sharp breath, peering up at him through your lashes. He raised an eyebrow, waiting on your answer.

You nodded at him, too dizzy with need to form a verbal response. His lips spread into a primal grin as he led you through the crowd. You followed him toward the dark corner where the shadows could hide your secrets. Finding an alcove, he spun you around and pressed your back against the wall.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as you gripped the front of his shirt, gazing up at him. His mouth turned up in a smug smirk as he leaned in to trail soft kisses along your jaw.

“Where’d that chatty personality go, hm?” James teased, his breath hot against your ear. “You were such a smooth talker, doll, what happened? Cat got your tongue?”

Your face flushed at his teasing, but you couldn’t find the words to argue your case. Instead, you grabbed his face and captured his lips in a hungry kiss.

James groaned, pressing you harder against the wall as his lips devoured yours. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you licked into his mouth. He hummed in approval as you tugged on the strands, rocking his hips against yours.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp as you felt his hand snake beneath your dress, teasing you over your panties with his fingertips.

He stared down at you through hooded eyes, breathing heavily as he watched you squirm against his touch. He grinned, wickedly, as he felt the fabric dampen even more with his soft touch.

“What’s got you so wet, baby?” James taunted, playfully, nipping at your bottom lip. He dropped his voice to a husky whisper as he said, “Gettin’ all hot ‘n bothered hidin’ in the shadows like this?”

You released a shaky breath as he kissed down your neck, sucking softly against your pulse point. He slowly started sinking to his knees, gazing up at you as he trailed his lips down the fabric of your dress.

“James, someone might see,” you whispered, feeling your heart race as you warred between watching him and glancing around to make sure nobody was looking.

He looked up at you with a smirk as he reached under your dress, slowly peeling your panties down your legs.

“Let ‘em watch,” he shrugged, stuffing the garment in his back pocket as he stood up again.

He grabbed the back of your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist to open you up for him. He kissed you, slowly and deeply, as he pressed you back against the wall and shielded your body.

“Relax, doll,” he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. “Nobody can tell what’s happening, even if they do look this way. Besides, they’re all too drunk to care.”

A soft moan escaped your lips as he began to circle your clit. The callouses on his fingers made for a delicious friction, building the ache that was growing in your belly.

“Fuck,” you breathed, gripping onto his shoulders for support. You leaned your head back against the wall, giving his mouth better access. “That feels so good.”

James chuckled against your neck, his warm breath making you shiver.

“Yeah? Feels good?” James asked, lifting his head back up to look at you. “What about this?” You gasped as James eased a finger inside of you, stretching you out before adding a second one. James grinned, curling his fingers. “Does that feel good?”

A soft mewling sound resonated in your throat as you fisted the fabric of his shirt. He was watching you with rapt attention, taking in every little reaction he was pulling out of you. His thumb circled your clit as two of his fingers pumped inside of you, curling against that spot that made you see stars. He was working your body with expert precision, like he’d unraveled you time and time before.

“Yeah, feels good,” you panted, trying to get ahold of yourself. His touch was making you dizzy, filling you with an untamed desire. “I can’t let you do all the work, though.”

James raised an eyebrow as you spoke, rubbing your hands down his chest. You smirked up at him, undoing the button of his jeans. His eyes grew darker as a groan escaped his lips, his hips bucking forward instinctively. He chewed on his lip as you slowly undid the zipper, letting your finger trail down the bulge in his boxers.

“Fuck, doll,” he hissed, his cock twitching in his boxers. “You wanna touch me? Wanna wrap those soft hands around me, make me feel good?”

You nodded, dipping your hand past the waistband to wrap your fingers around his cock. You began to slowly stroke him, making a deep groan sound in his throat. He was already slick with pre-cum, his length throbbing in your hand.

“Good thing I decided not to wait any longer,” you purred, squeezing him tighter. “Feels like you were about to explode any second there.”

“Shit, baby,” he moaned, thrusting into your fist. “You have no idea. Coulda came just from touchin’ you, from feelin’ you squeezin’ my fingers all tight.”

His fingers were still pumping in and out of you, coaxing you closer to the edge. You used your free hand to push the front of his boxers down, exposing his cock to the thick air between your bodies.

Your hand looked small around it as you twisted your fist over him. You clenched around his fingers just at the sight of him, almost drooling at his size.

A cocky smirk pulled at James’ lips as he said, “Like what you see, baby? Thinkin’ about how good it would feel buried in that tight little pussy of yours?”

Your eyes fluttered as you whimpered, dripping onto his hand. He pulled his fingers out of you, earning a whine of protest as your walls clenched around the sudden emptiness. His eyes glimmered with lust as he brought his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean.

“Mm,” he moaned, breathing deeply. “You taste so good, doll. So fuckin’ sweet. I wanna bury my face between your thighs until you’re screamin’ my name…but we can’t risk that.”

You wanted to tell him to risk it all, not caring if anyone saw, but you knew you couldn’t. Still, it didn’t stop your body from trembling at the thought.

Instead, you gripped the back of his head and pulled his lips back onto yours. You moaned into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue.

His kiss was desperate and hungry, matching the boiling heat inside of you. He replaced your hand on his cock as he kissed you, rubbing the damp tip against your swollen clit.

“Ah,” you gasped, instantly rocking your hips forward.

James tilted his head to the side, grinning as he said, “Oh, that’s what you want, huh? You want me to fuck you? Want me to fill you up so full that nobody else will ever feel as good?”

“Yes,” you moaned, gripping his shirt as you swallowed thickly. “I want you to fuck me. I’ve wanted you to since I saw you by the bar.”

“Are you sure, doll?” James asked, taunting you. He teased his tip around your entrance, nudging forward without actually pushing inside of you. “I can stop if I need to…”

“I’m sure! I’m sure, just…please, fuck me, James,” you begged, desperately tugging at his hips to try and make him move forward.

“Eager baby,” James cooed, chuckling lowly. “I’ve got you, doll, don’t worry. Gonna make you feel so good, I swear.”

He eased his hips forward, slowly sinking into you. Once he was buried to the hilt, feeling you snugly wrapped around him, he let out a shaky moan.

“Oh my god…” you breathed, letting out soft sounds of pleasure as you clung to him. He was stretching you out in a way that made your knees buckle. “Please, move. Fuck me.”

“Gladly, baby,” he said, wasting no time in setting a steady pace.

His hips snapped against yours, thrusting into you relentlessly as your eyes rolled back. Your toes curled as you clutched his shirt tightly, unable to stop the lewd strings of moans and whines spilling from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, doll,” he groaned, leaning his forehead against yours. “Nice ‘n wet, too. God, you’re fuckin’ soaked. All for me, hm?”

“James,” you mewled, digging your nails into his shoulders.

Every thrust was angled perfectly, like his cock was made to fit inside of you. He cradled the back of your head to keep it from hitting the hard wall, a gentle gesture in contrast to the way he was fucking you. He hiked your leg up higher, pushing in deeper as you let out a loud moan.

“Oh, god,” you whined, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Don’t stop. Fuck, just like that.”

“Shh, baby,” James whispered, kissing you softly as he grinned. “We can’t have you drawin’ everyone’s attention, can we?”

You bit down on your lip to keep quiet, suddenly reminded of the fact that you were still in public. A thrill coursed through you, making you clench around him as your heart pounded.

“Oh, you like that, doll?” James asked, brushing his lips against your ear. “You like knowin’ that I’m fuckin’ you right here where anyone could see us?”

You gasped, nodding your head as you whispered, “Yes.”

He nipped at your earlobe, bringing his hand down to rub fast circles against your clit as he thrust into you.

“Such a dirty girl,” he purred, licking the shell of your ear. “Gettin’ off on the risk of bein’ caught with a stranger’s cock buried deep inside you? Shoulda just bent you over the bar n’ fucked you right there like I wanted to.”

Your lips parted in a silent cry as you panted, feeling a rush of heat through your bloodstream as you lost the rest of your resolve.

“I’m gonna come,” you breathed, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me, doll,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder against yours. “Wanna feel you squeezin’ my cock, milkin’ it dry.”

White hot pleasure washed over you in waves as you came around him. James fucked you through it, kissing you roughly to swallow down your moans. His hips stuttered as he followed after you, biting down on your lip as his release spilled inside of you.

James’ thrusts slowed to a stop as the both of you came down. He kissed your temple, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure.

You gazed up at him through slightly blurred vision, taking in the deep blue of his eyes and the bright flush of his cheeks. He reached a gentle hand up to brush back the hair that had clung to your forehead as he leaned in to kiss you softly.

You melted against his lips, drowning in his kiss.

He eased out of you, holding you steady as he helped you fix your dress. You could feel him dripping down your thighs, causing a heat to creep up your neck.

Glancing over his shoulder, you spotted your friends searching for you by the bar. You let out a shaky breath, looking back up at James with a sheepish smile.

“I gotta get going,” you told him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for the dance.”

James begrudgingly let you go, his eyes following you with longing as you walked away from him. His heart was still racing, completely captivated by you.

When you rejoined your friends, they all gave you curious looks and immediately questioned your whereabouts. You rolled your eyes and laughed, walking toward the door as they pestered you relentlessly for answers.

As you stepped outside, the cool air felt nice against your flushed skin. The gentle breeze did, however, remind you of your current lack of underwear — thanks to a certain thief.

Before you could walk toward the car waiting for you, you felt a hand on your arm. You turned around to see James, grinning as he held out a cigarette toward you.

You quirked a brow, shaking your head as you said, “I don’t smoke.”

“It wasn’t intended for you to smoke,” he shrugged, handing it to you anyways.

You glanced down at it, seeing that he’d scrawled his number on the side of it.

He leaned in to your ear and whispered, “Call me ‘n tell me if I earned your name.”

He smirked as he pulled back, giving you a wink before disappearing back into the dark club.

You bit your lip to conceal your grin as you turned back to your friends, meeting their shocked and thrilled faces.

You spent the entire car ride back filling them in on every detail, listening to their squeals and gasps of excitement.

It was safe to say that you’d found the thing you hadn’t even realized you’d been looking for and, as you clutched the unlit cigarette in your hand, you couldn’t wait to see him again.

[bokutosbabe]

heyyy if your still doing your spotify wraps event, what do you think of melanie martinez as my top artist? Or for a specific song, queencard by g-idle?

i am still doing the wrapped event! i don't really like Melanie sorry :( , but i can write for the song!

if your most listened to song was queencard by g-idle, i'd pair you with...

michael kaiser

જ⁀♡⊹｡° even when i see it

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event! - masterlist -

♡ content — michael kaiser x gn! reader, gn! reader, interviewer! reader, set after a game, flirty! kaiser

♡ synopsis — michael kaiser, the man everyone wanted an interview with...couldn't keep his eyes off the cute reporter at his press conference

The room is packed with reporters, cameras flashing and microphones held up as if they’re waiting for him to say something legendary. Kaiser Michael walks in with the usual air of superiority, perfectly aware that every eye in the room is trained on him. His steps are confident, and there’s that trademark smirk playing on his lips, the one that makes everyone wonder what he’s thinking—if they’re lucky enough to catch a glimpse.

You’re sitting at the table, papers neatly stacked in front of you, but you can’t help but notice the way he’s scanning the room, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. He locks eyes with you for a split second, and you feel an unexpected jolt of electricity shoot through you.

It’s so brief, so subtle, but you can’t shake it. And just like that, the charming, cocky smile spreads across his face, the one he knows drives everyone wild.

"Ah, it’s you," he says casually, his voice smooth like silk as he takes a seat at the podium, ignoring the reporters scrambling to get closer. His eyes linger on you for a moment longer than necessary, and you feel the weight of his attention. "I was wondering if you’d be here."

You do your best to remain professional, but you can’t help the slight flush rising to your cheeks. He knows what he’s doing. You’ve been in the industry long enough to recognize it. He’s playing the game, and right now, you’re the center of his attention.

A few other reporters ask questions, but Kaiser doesn’t seem all that interested. His answers are as smooth and rehearsed as ever, but there’s an air of boredom to it. He’s the king, and the rest of the world is just there to acknowledge it. But then it’s your turn.

You lean forward, the microphone in front of you steady as you look straight into his eyes. "Kaiser," you begin, your voice steady despite the slight flutter in your chest, "you’ve been a dominant force on the field, but we’ve seen you struggling a bit in some of the recent games. What do you think is holding you back from truly being unbeatable?"

He tilts his head, considering you with that sharp, intense gaze. "Struggling?" He chuckles, almost to himself, before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice just enough that it feels personal. "I’m not struggling, sweetheart. Just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. You don’t get to the top without knowing when to hold back, after all."

You force yourself to maintain composure, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like that, his words laced with confidence—and something else. "And what about the pressure?" you press, playing your role as the interviewer, even if his attention feels like a direct challenge to your professionalism. "There’s a lot riding on you being ‘the best.’ Does it ever feel like too much?"

Kaiser’s smile widens, and there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes—something dangerous, yet captivating. "The pressure?" he repeats, almost as if amused. "It’s nothing. People expect a lot from me, but I’m used to it. I thrive under it. Besides," he leans forward slightly, his tone dropping just a little lower, "I always make sure I deliver. You know how it goes. Can’t have people forgetting the name Kaiser."

You swallow, trying to maintain the calm facade you’ve built. But you’re not sure if it’s the game of words or the way he’s looking at you—like you’re both the prize and the challenger—that’s throwing you off. It’s all part of his act, right? Just another facet of the public persona he’s so good at maintaining.

Another reporter calls out a question, pulling his attention away, but Kaiser doesn’t seem to fully shift his focus. His gaze flicks back to you briefly, that smirk never leaving his face, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s still playing with you.

As the press conference continues, you feel the weight of his presence more than ever. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and you’re not sure if you’re just another part of the game or if there’s something more behind those eyes. You can’t decide if he’s trying to get under your skin or if, for once, he’s genuinely intrigued by you.

And when the press conference finally wraps up, Kaiser stands, sending another playful, almost teasing glance your way. "See you around, sweetheart," he says, that same confident smirk still dancing on his lips. "I expect nothing less than a perfect question next time."

You try to brush it off, but the way he’s left you feeling unsettled, intrigued, and a little bit flustered lingers long after he’s gone. You know you’ll be thinking about it—about him—long after this interview is over.

i thought this would kinda fit? it was hard to decide what i wanted to do with this song

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[saphiccarma]

- Sweet Thing Pt.2

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - For the first time in months, Agatha and Rio take you off the ship and into the human world. Of course, you had to go and ruin it once you were given a chance.

Warnings: Overall a little bit of dark themes, but its not obvious.

A/N: Y'all could prob guess this already, but this story is going to be kinda dark. Stuff like stockholm syndrome. Just letting y'all know. Reblogs and comments make me happy :>

Weeks had gone by, maybe even months. You weren't sure how long they held you there. The pain was never any less, you still longed to be home and with your family again. To feel the cool flush of sea water against your skin. Not once had they even let you get close to the water, no matter how much you begged and pleaded. It made your heart ache and tears swell in your eyes whenever they brought you out onto the deck.

It felt like they were taunting you. The wind would blast in your face and for once, you would get a taste of what it would be like to be free. If you were close enough to land then you would be able to see the birds as they dived for fish. Whales would surface every now and then and you wondered if they were the ones you knew.

Little by little, you began to understand the ship more. The people on it. They were a bundle of dangerous and sweet, all mixed together and thrown onto the boat. You weren't sure how you felt about being around them. It's not like you had a choice.

Alice was one of your favorites. Her brown eyes were dark, a deep color that resembled the chocolate she gave you once. Most times she kept her hair pure black with red stripes at the front, pinned halfway up, letting some dangle around her neck. The few times you saw it down completely, showed you how wavy it could be, flowing like the waves in the ocean. Alice usually stood in the back of the group, silent and watching, but she made sure to smile in your direction or give you a simple nod.

Lillia was probably the oldest on the ship - skin wrinkled and slightly tanned from being out in the sun so much. She took care of most of the cooking, skilled hands making some delicious, yet odd, food. Her hair was an interesting mix of white and various shades of gray, with hazel eyes that were always so comforting. Her voice soothed you when you panicked once, neither Agatha nor Rio around, and your breathing uncontrollable. Like the whale songs that you heard under the sea, Lillia had a way of calming you down.

Your relationship with Jen was odd. She was gorgeous, skin smooth as a turtle's shell and beauty similar to the corals that blossomed near your home. You hated how much she scrutinized you, eyes scanning you up and down with a weird sort of disgust. Despite that, there were times where she felt familiar. She would dab at your face with a wet cloth, cleaning off the blood from where Agatha punched you. In the end, you decided that you liked her enough.

Billy was your favorite. He lets you braid his fluffy black hair into tiny little braids that stuck out, reminding you of your sisters. One of your favorite things was that he brought you entertainment whenever you spent time locked in your room after 'bad behavior'. (That mostly included being snarky or trying to jump off). Once, he brought cards, little pieces of paper cut down into squares with shapes and symbols colored red and black, and he showed you how to play games with them. Billy was there for you, bringing a source of comfort when you missed the one you truly wanted.

Then there was Agatha and Rio-

Rio whose’ s nails dug into your cheek. Rio who twisted it and squeezed until your mouth was opened. Rio whose eyes were dark brown, calculating and observing every movement you made,

"Are you paying attention?" A red flush crept onto your cheeks as you glared at her, shifting on your knees. You had been sitting on the floor for forever, the wood digging into your skin every time you shifted the slightest, but Rio never let you up.

Her boot was wedged between your legs, keeping them spread apart as she examined you. Lately, Rio had taken a particular interest in studying your anatomy - which you learned was quite different from human anatomy. Her fingers pressed down on your tongue until spit pooled on her fingers, coating them in the wet liquid. Even as you flinched back from when she pressed down hard, Rio didn't let up until there was a pool of saliva. Shivering once she finally withdrew, still holding your mouth open with her other hand, Rio snagged a bottle from the desk next to her. She placed it under your chin then tilted your head down until your spit was dribbling into the cup.

Rio shifted her boot up, the hard tip pressing tight against the sensitive spot between your thighs. A small huff of air escaped your nose as you glared at her. All you got in response to your sound of annoyance was a teasing smirk and a raised eyebrow.

As of late, Rio had been taking you to her 'study area' as she called it. It was a room near the back of the ship, secluded from everyone else and all other places. The only thing audible from there was the soft sound of the ocean moving and rocking the ship. The constant movement of back and forth was one of the few things you liked, the movement lulling you to sleep when it evaded you during many nights. Stacks of books inside the shelves lined the walls, a few odd trinkets shoved between them. A desk was pressed in between two of the shelves, a chair sitting behind it. Otherwise, the room was empty.

You hated being back here, alone with Rio, where there was no one who knew what was going on. The thought sent shivers down your spine and made you twist uncomfortably when you were ack here with her. Sometimes Agatha would join the two of you. That did nothing to make you feel better.

On queue, the door was opened, a bit louder than Agatha would have. And based on Rio's glare, it wasn't the blue-eyed woman. Rio sighed, annoyed, and removed the bottle and her hand from your skin. She set the bottle, filled with your saliva, onto the desk behind her.

"Billy," her words were cool, her boot slowly dragged out, but not before shoving it up one last time, "What do you want?" You were forced to suppress a whimper at her harsh movement, biting down on your lip and giving her wide eyes.  

There was a little spluttering from behind you, "I-uhm- Agatha sent me to grab you. We're docking soon."

That made you perk up, your pointy ears alert for whatever Rio had to say next. She waved her hand at Billy dismissively and there was only a second before the door fell shut again. Rio grinned, the sight almost feral, but you knew it was normal, and she bent down so that she was eye-level with you. There was a glint in her eyes you didn’t like.

"It's time to go on land, pet."

^__________^

Humans bustled about you, and it wasn't so different from the undersea markets that sold oysters and clams, pearls and coral necklaces. Your mother loved to take you there for your birthday, buy you anything you wanted. There were various wooden shops set up, people shouting into the street and waving their products around with excitement. Billy had given you a quick debrief on what the human markets were like so you wouldn't be completely surprised, but it didn't help with the shock that rolled through you.

Your fingers twitched nervously when someone knocked into your shoulder, not bothering to look back and say something. Agatha's grip on your arm made everything worse, her fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise later on. She never once let up, even when you tried to pull away because it was too much. It was all so loud compared to what you were used to. The ship was quiet, Jen and Agatha arguing being the loudest sounds there. In the sea, it wasn't exactly either loud or quiet, but you were used to that type of noise. The whales were singing and dolphins talking while fish swam around.

But this was different.

People yelled at one another, carrying large baskets around where they carried their goods - too focused on themselves. You stumbled over your own two feet more than once every time Agatha tugged harshly on your forearm. She had dressed you up in a pair of pants, loose ones that swished and made dirt fly with every step you took. A loose blouse was thrown over your head, the edges nearly dangling over your shoulders and you constantly had to push it back up. Rio threw a pair of sandals at you just before you left the boat.

Being near the port was the most comforting part of this experience. It smelled of fresh fish and the salt of the ocean was more prominent. For a moment, you were able to pretend you were back in the water. That bubble burst when Agatha told a hold of your arm and dragged you into the crowded streets.

Tall buildings, taller than the ones you had merely observed when you were still home, boxed you in from all sides. People stood atop those buildings, watering their plants or chatting with one another. Everything here was constantly moving. Not in the way the sea did though, the sea flowed with a practiced and familiar flow. People were odd.

Agatha stopped at a stall, and for the briefest of moments, her hand let go of you. Without thinking much, you took off, feet kicking up dirt with every frantic step. Running was still new to you, but with the hope of freedom you got the hang of it. You shoved through people. They gave you shouts of protest. Rio and Agatha were hot on your heels, you could tell. Once, one of their fingers ghosted along your blouse, tugging. Desperation helped you rip free. The near chance with capture again spurred you on more, picking up speed.

Taking a sudden right, you skidded and almost lost your balance. Agatha shouted behind you, her words a sharp warning. You knew you should listen, it would be smart, but home could be so, so close. You followed the sound of crashing waves and seagulls cawing. Wind whipped in your face, similar to the way currents would rush past you in the water. Oh, you could be there so soon. Your hair got into your eyes, and you brushed it away frantically, you had to be able to see right now.

The smell of salt became stronger the farther you ran. You were almost there. Birds crowed above you, almost cheering you on. The finish line was right there. You could see the ocean now, the crashing waves and the wet sand. Slapping against your skin, the sandals felt restricting but you had no time to take them off. You burst from the confines of the buildings that had walled you. Arms pumping and pushing yourself to run fast, you were almost there.

The ocean was right there. You could be home. Mother and Father would be waiting with your siblings, eager to welcome you back. Tears of joy pooled in your eyes at the thought. All you had to do was get deep enough to transform and then you were free.

A sudden weight on your back stopped you. You fell face first into the wet sand, the water lapping at your face - you were so close. A body was on top of yours, holding you down. A scream, one of pure desperation and frustration left your mouth as you thrashed.

"Calm down," Agatha's voice was the coldest you had ever heard her as she pushed your face into the sand. You twisted around, somehow managing to get on your back, and spat sand from your face. Your hands clawed at Agatha's shoulders, trying to shove her back, but she merely held firm. Agatha waited it out while you struggled and screamed, not caring for the eyes that began to stare. Tears streamed down your face, wet and mingling with the sand that clung to your skin. "Calm down." She repeated it, firmer this time.

Your breath was coming in ragged breaths as the fight left you. A broken sob came from your lips as your head fell back, eyes falling shut. The waves licked at your hair, the water a small comfort in this moment. It was cold. If you were just a little further in then you would be able to hear some of the sea creatures. Maybe the fish would circle your body, welcoming you home. But that wasn't happening. Instead, Agatha was hauling you up, her grip somehow even tighter than before. You cried in pain at how harshly she yanked you up. Agatha scoffed and rolled her eyes, but she did not apologize.  

"Never," Her face was right up against yours as she said the word, breath hot and eyes narrowed, "Do that again. Rio take her back to the ship." Agatha threw you at Rio, the other woman catching you with a small smirk. Her hands landed on your hips, smiling down at you as if you weren't crying.

"Aww don't cry," Rio's thumb wiped away your tears, and that was all you got before she was dragging you away. The fight returned to you for a moment, and you struggled, but Rio merely swept your feet out from under you and threw you over her shoulder. You gave a surprised yelp, her shoulder bones digging into you as she walked back towards the ship. Your fists pounded on her back, legs kicking as you tried to break free. Freedom was so close. It was so close.

Marching up the deck of the ship, Rio nodded to people passing. You felt like a child on her shoulders. Maybe they saw you as one. Rio kicked the door to below deck open, ducking so as to not hit her head on the frame and you had to pause in your struggle to do the same. She carried you down the hallway before reaching your room. Once again kicking the door in, she finally set you down. There was hardly a moment for you to recover from the harsh landing, being thrown onto the bed, before the door was being slammed shut.

You heard the telltale sound of the key locking it.

Scrambling up from the bed you pounded your fists on the door, "Rio please!" Your voice was strained due to the tears that ran down your face, "Let me out!" And you begged. And begged. And begged. Even after you knew she was long gone, you sunk down in front of the door. Your hands trembled and your breathing was shaky as you gasped, trying to get more air in. You screamed until your voice was raw and cracking with every word.

You were so close to home and now it was just gone.

Taglist: @vigilante24ish

[portalwalker]

"It likely has -- or had -- a limited AI that had pre-programmed responses in case something like this happened," Maria said. "Which, considering their pokemon-like appearance, was probably a possibility when it comes to dealing with Trainers."

Benta's remark about her observation of the creature's color and Team Rocket's appearance had her nodding slightly. "Team Rocket are known poachers, so your assessment of hunters isn't that far off. The problem is that Giovanni wanted power, and in order to get that power, he looked to Legendary-class Pokemon. It wouldn't've ended well if he'd managed to get his hands on you."

She grabbed the page as the printer spat it out and frowned at the mess of ink at the bottom of the page. "Looks like this is the last bit of information we're getting, unless we give the printer some maintenance. Doubt we're going to find the parts we need here, though...let's see...."

Maria scanned the page for information once, twice. On the third read-through, she muttered. "Okay, this spread a lot faster than I was thinking. Area Zero in Paldea..." She spun her holographic globe and frowned at that region of the world. "Think that's the giant crater here, although I've never been." She put her finger through that part of the map. "Wonder how it looks now, if they were having trouble out there. And what kind of facility it was she'd managed to find."

She marked the crater in a different color from the recorded sightings of the pokemon lookalikes, signifying it as an area of interest, then handed the page over to Benta for him to inspect.

"She gave them a name -- Kornitek. At least we have something to call them, now. And she wanted Professor Birch to watch over Greavee. Considering the state of Unova, though, I'm worried what could've happened to Hoenn. Kyogre and Groudon can be grumpy on the best of days, even with Rayquaza keeping an eye on things. If these things disrupted the world to this extent, it could be completely underwater, nothing more than a desert, or a chaotic mix of weather systems by now. Or something worse."

Judging by Maria's furrowed brow, she really didn't want to think about what Hoenn could look like.

Benta watched in muted fascination as the map appeared. He was still in the process of learning that Maria was quite literally full of surprises, however theoretically mundane compared to her capacity for battle earlier.

And it certainly helped him follow along her additional train of thought.

"A disrupted connection might have certainly caused what amounts to an equivalent of desperation I suppose..." he ventured. Then he thought back. "Though, there is also the chance it wasn't as erratic as we consider it. After all, in spite of its state of existence, it did seem to know how to process things like anger and danger-sense. Which feels more than just hostile." He couldn't deny the anger especially. To be angry, one had to know what it meant to be frustrated at an obstacle. And what it meant to think. If their source of power was disconnected, would such a strangely synthetic thing still know the difference between stress, non-stress, and have its own volition of how to act? Or- like Maria suggested- would it spiral out of control for the sheer lack of direction?

She almost lost him at the "color scheme" statement though. "Unfortunately I did not retain enough of my encounter with them to know one way or another," he apologized. "I only thought they were hunters, until Hana clarified otherwise. She did mention they had a base in Kanto, but their reasons for being in Johto was admittedly unclear beyond their interest in me."

He raised a paw to his muzzle and gripped his chin with a frown. "Even so...these creatures were in Johto too..." he added in the midst of thought. Is there a connection between the two in that region as well..?

The printer let off a shrill whine as it finally finished printing the next paper. As suspected, it was much longer in terms of text unlike the previous pages. This had been written from scratch and was more thought out as opposed to the abrupt sentences of the S.O.S reports.

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

URGENT NOTICE

Name: Hana Baker

From: [UNKNOWN OR REDACTED] PALDEA

To: Pokémon Trade Center UNOVA

Recipient: [UNSPECIFIED]

I'm sending this message in regard to the reports of the dangerous pokémon being spotted in multiple regions across the world. As a fellow researcher we can all agree it's typically our duty to investigate these things and find out what they are and why they're behaving so rashly, but I think it's too late to look at this matter as carefully as we would have any other day. I've lost contact with the rest of my team who left to investigate Area Zero on a potential lead, and I'm still on the surface looking into the other half of the suspicious documents we found. Unfortunately, after uncovering something alarming, I've come to a total impasse. To be perfectly blunt, the situation has gone from bad to utterly insane. I'm at my wits end and I have to move fast.

These things are spreading like wildfire and taking whole cities down with them. I've barely been able to find a place with sustainable power, but- considering who it belongs to- if I stay here too long and get spotted I'm going to be in serious trouble. For better or worse this facility is outfitted with a GTS, so before I leave I'm going to take advantage of the situation and send my pokémon to your trade center since it is currently within one of the few designated safe zones.

The monsters that have been terrorizing the other regions are akin to the picture I uploaded from my surveillance camera. Keep in mind however that they don't all look alike and can change shape at any given moment even though the image of Porygon appears to be their default. Their bodies move like sand and are entirely weaponized. Due to the nature of their attacks and general makeup, I've decided to call these creatures "Kornetik". And to be clear in absolution- we cannot fight them. These are beyond what anyone can fend off. If you do happen to spot them your best chance is to run. Don't cross them. Don't engage them. Normal pokéballs don't work on them either, so it is effectively useless to waste resources attempting to catch one without the proper tools. In the short time I have had I've been able to create a pokéball with magnetic countermeasures to contain at least one, and it should hold out if handled soon enough. I'm sending it to your lab for further research, but trust me when I tell you- DO NOT LET IT OUT. Get help from the Pokémon Center to scan it from the inside of the ball and compile whatever information you can. There should be something we can do if we can just figure out what fuels their energy and what gives them all this power. We MUST find the answers before everything is wiped out. It is my deepest regret I have to leave that task to you. If it weren't for the horrible things I've found during the investigation, and the disappearance of my team, I would do it myself. Just do what you can.

In the meantime, you could say I have a date with another bunch of monsters fixing to solve the Kornetik infestation by throwing an even bigger problem at it. Considering we're out of options I'll have to try sneaking into their apparently recent headquarters in [REDACTED] and handling it myself. The region is a long way off. But if I don't do something, anyone left would be lucky to get out of this mess alive.

I will update as often as I can. Contact Professor Birch and tell him to take care of Greavee for me. Above all, be safe.

[SEND F-Ax? : C̴̜͠onfiŕ̴̭m ̸̦̂Can̶͍͆c̴̯̎cë̷̜l ]

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

Smudges of ink lined the bottom of the paper. And in spite of its continued shrill whining and backlog of other numbered faxes, the printer was malfunctioning and running out of ink. This was likely the last thing it was going to print out.

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 18

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen and Gabby savor their long-awaited reunion, starting with a cozy coffee date where they reconnect over laughter and conversation. Back at Gabby’s apartment, Glen convinces her to focus on studying while he tackles some of her chores, finding joy in the normalcy of helping her. Their playful banter takes a turn when Gabby tries to stop him from folding laundry, leading to a lighthearted wrestling match that ends with them tangled together on the bed.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut (Light hair pulling. Protected Sex. P in V.) I promise one day I'll right more interesting smut but I'm still new to writing smut so keeping it simple for now.

A/N: Please continue to let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs! Also if you'd like to be tagged please let me know, and I will get you added to the tag list!

The sun was warm but not stifling as Glen and Gabby strolled down the quiet street toward her favorite coffee shop. The hum of the city filled the air—cars passing, a faint honk in the distance, and the occasional bark of a dog being walked by its owner. Gabby felt the corners of her mouth tug upward every time she glanced sideways at Glen. He was here, walking next to her, his hand brushing hers occasionally as they moved in sync. She had to resist the urge to pinch herself, still half-convinced this was all some vivid dream.

“You’re staring,” Glen said, his voice soft and teasing.

She glanced up at him and shrugged lightly. “I just… I can’t believe you’re here. This doesn’t feel real.”

Glen chuckled, and before she could pull her hand away, he caught it in his, lacing their fingers together. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s real, Gabby. I’m here. And I’ve missed you like crazy. I had a small break in filming today and tomorrow and I knew that there wasn’t any other way I wanted to spend it.”

Her chest tightened, and she squeezed his hand back, not trusting herself to speak without her voice breaking.

When they reached the coffee shop, the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods enveloped them like a hug. Gabby led the way to a cozy table in the corner, tucked away from the bustling counter. Glen pulled out her chair before taking the one across from her, leaning his forearms on the table as if closing the small space between them even more.

“This place is cute,” he said, glancing around at the mismatched wooden furniture and chalkboard menu above the counter.

“It’s my go-to,” Gabby said, scanning the menu. “The tea here is great, and they make this avocado toast  that’s ridiculously good. I’ve heard the coffee is good too, but you know how I feel about coffee.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Glen said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair. “Though I think I’d eat just about anything if it meant I could sit here with you.”

Gabby rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t suppress the blush creeping up her neck. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his grin widening.

When their food arrived—Gabby’s avocado toast and Glen’s bacon-and-egg sandwich—they dug in, the conversation flowing easily between bites. They talked about everything and nothing: Gabby’s classes, Glen’s time on set, and the small moments they had missed sharing during their weeks apart.

At one point, Glen reached across the table, brushing his thumb over her knuckles as he held her hand. “You know,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear, “I could sit here forever. Just talking to you.”

Her heart swelled, and she blinked back the tears threatening to form before taking another bite of her toast.

The walk back to Gabby’s apartment was slower, more leisurely. The comfortable silence between them was occasionally broken by Glen pointing out little things he noticed—the dog trotting by with its tongue lolling out, a family laughing on the steps of a brownstone, or the way the autumn leaves scattered across the sidewalk seemed to crunch louder underfoot. Gabby didn’t mind the quiet; it felt natural, like they were slipping back into a rhythm she hadn’t realized she missed so much.

When they reached her apartment, she unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside so Glen could enter first. He barely made it two steps inside before a flash of orange fur darted toward him.

“Willow!” Gabby called, half in surprise, half in amusement.

The orange tabby cat skidded to a halt at Glen’s feet, her fluffy tail held high as she circled him. She gave a loud, insistent meow, then rubbed herself against his legs, purring like a tiny engine.

“Well, hey there,” Glen said, crouching down to her level. He reached out cautiously, but Willow wasn’t shy. She nuzzled into his hand, practically shoving her head into his palm as though she couldn’t get enough attention.

Gabby stood frozen in the doorway, watching the interaction with a mix of disbelief and humor. “She… she never does that.”

Glen glanced up at her, his hand still gently scratching behind the cat’s ears. “I mean I’m kind of her favorite. Didn’t you say she’s basically claimed my shirt as hers?”

The cat responded with another loud purr, pressing her face into his knee.

Gabby shook her head, a grin spreading across her face as she closed the door and leaned against it. “She’s really laying it on thick. I think she likes you more than me right now.”

Glen chuckled, standing back up as Willow weaved between his ankles. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

Gabby rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t deny how much the sight warmed her heart. Willow was usually content to observe people from a distance, barely tolerating affection on her own terms.

Glen scooped up the cat effortlessly. Willow settled into his arms like she’d been there a thousand times, her head resting lazily against his chest.

Gabby’s heart ached in the best way as she watched them. How was it possible that he could make her fall for him even more just by holding her cat?

When Glen caught her staring, he gave her a knowing smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

He walked over, still holding Willow, and gave her a teasing grin. “What, you didn’t think I was a cat person?”

“No, it’s not that. I just didn’t think Willow was an anyone cat,” she shot back.

“Well, I guess we’re full of surprises today,” he said softly, brushing his lips against her forehead.

Willow gave a soft chirp, seemingly annoyed at being ignored, and Glen chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll put you down. You’re a little attention hog, aren’t you?”

As he set the cat down, she trotted off to her favorite spot on the windowsill, leaving Glen and Gabby alone again.

“Speaking of pets, where’s Brisket?” Gabby asked noticing that Glen hadn’t mentioned him and the dog clearly wasn’t with him.

“Les is watching him for me. Wasn’t sure what our plans would be…or how much attention he’d get. So she offered to take him until I fly out tomorrow.” Glen explained before changing the subject. “So what were your plans for the day?” he asked, glancing at the stack of textbooks and notebooks on the coffee table.

Gabby sighed. “Nothing exciting. I was going to study for a bit, maybe do some laundry, vacuum, and tidy up. The usual. But now…”

“But now?”

“Now?” she repeated, leaning back against the door and giving him a shy smile. “Now, I just want to spend time with you.”

His expression softened, and he closed the space between them, placing his hands gently on her hips. “I want to spend time with you too,” he said, his voice a low murmur, “but I don’t want you to fall behind because I showed up.”

“Glen-” she started, shaking her head.

“Listen,” he interrupted, his hands tightening ever so slightly. “How about this. You study for half an hour, and I’ll take care of some of the chores. Then we’ll have the rest of the day to do whatever you want.”

Her eyes widened, and she laughed softly. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely.” His grin was teasing but sincere. 

“You want to spend your day off doing my chores?”

“It’s only for half an hour,” he reasoned. “Besides I like doing stuff like that. It makes me feel… normal, you know?”

Gabby tilted her head, studying him. “You’re really okay with it?”

“Gabby,” he said, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers, “if it makes your life a little easier and gives us more time together, I’m more than okay with it.”

Her chest ached with the kind of gratitude that made her eyes sting. She nodded. “Okay. But only if you let me help after I’m done studying.”

“We’ll see,” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before stepping back. “Now, go. Books. Study. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Gabby smiled as she grabbed her textbooks and settled onto the couch, the sound of Glen rummaging in the kitchen grounding her in the moment. For the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.

Thirty minutes later the timer on Gabby’s phone buzzed softly, marking the end of her self-imposed study session. She closed her notebook with a sigh of relief, glad to escape the dry material she’d been slogging through.

“Half an hour exactly,” she muttered to herself with a grin, stretching her arms overhead as she stood. She tucked her books neatly back onto the shelf and wandered down the hallway toward her bedroom, curious to see what Glen had gotten himself into.

The sight that greeted her made her stop in her tracks and lean against the doorway with an incredulous smile. Glen was standing by her bed, a neatly folded stack of her laundry already on the corner, and another shirt in his hands that he was methodically folding.

“Glen,” she called out, crossing her arms as she stepped inside. “What are you doing?”

He glanced up at her, completely unbothered. “Folding laundry.”

She rolled her eyes, though the amusement in her voice was unmistakable. “You don’t have to do that. All I needed you to do was load the dishwasher. I can do all this once you leave.”

“I know,” he replied casually, shaking out another shirt and folding it with practiced ease. “But I want to.”

“Seriously,” she insisted, walking closer and trying to take the shirt from his hands. “You’ve done enough already. Let me finish it later.”

“Nope,” Glen said, stepping to the side and holding the shirt just out of her reach.

“Glen!” she exclaimed, laughing as she tried to grab it again.

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “What? I’m just being helpful.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to swipe at the shirt, but he easily lifted it higher.

“Am I?” he teased, his voice light as he dodged her attempts to snatch it.

“Yes!” she said, giggling as she lunged for him. This time, she grabbed his arm in an effort to pull him down, but he was too strong, his stance too steady. Instead, he turned the tables, gently catching her wrist and spinning her around so that her back was to him.

“Careful,” he murmured in her ear, his voice dropping to a playful growl.

Gabby felt her heart skip at the proximity, her laughter trailing off into a breathless chuckle. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, releasing her wrist only to scoop her up with ease.

“Glen!” she yelped as he carried her the few steps to the bed, depositing her onto the mattress like she weighed nothing at all. Before she could sit up, he leaned over her, pinning her wrists gently to the bed.

“Say it,” he said, his grin wide and victorious.

“Say what?” she shot back, her voice a mix of mock indignation and delight.

“That I win,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes locked on hers, warm and full of affection.

Gabby raised a brow, refusing to back down despite the fluttering in her chest. “Never.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re so stubborn.”

“And you’re—” Whatever retort she’d been about to make was lost as he leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was firm yet achingly tender.

Gabby’s resolve melted instantly, her body relaxing beneath him as she kissed him back. His hands released her wrists, one sliding down to cup her cheek while the other braced against the mattress to support his weight.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her lips. “You were saying?” he murmured, his grin returning.

She let out a soft laugh, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Fine. You win.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his voice low and satisfied. He brushed his lips against hers once more, lingering as if neither of them wanted the moment to end.

Gabby sighed contentedly, her earlier protests forgotten as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down beside her. The laundry could wait. For now, she just wanted to stay wrapped up in him.

Glen’s lips coaxed hers apart, his tongue sliding inside to explore with a slow, deliberate heat that made her heart race.

Gabby let out a soft, involuntary sigh, her hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as if she needed to anchor herself.

Just as she thought she couldn’t handle another second of the delicious pressure of his mouth on hers, Glen pulled back slightly, his breath warm against her damp lips. Before she could protest, he began to brush his lips along her jawline, each soft kiss igniting tiny sparks that raced down her spine.

“Glen…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with anticipation.

He didn’t answer, at least not right away. Instead, his mouth found the sensitive curve of her neck, his lips warm and soft against her skin. Gabby gasped quietly as his teeth scraped lightly, his tongue soothing the spot before he began to suck gently. It wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark—Glen knew better—but it was enough to send a shiver cascading through her body.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured against her neck, his voice low and husky, filled with a raw honesty that made her chest ache. His hand slid along her side, his touch warm and grounding, yet it only heightened the heat pooling in her stomach. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

His words sent a surge of confidence coursing through Gabby. She tilted her head back to look at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes shining with need. For a moment, she just stared at him, taking in the way his eyes burned with the same longing that was consuming her.

“Then take me,” she said, her voice soft but steady, laced with a newfound boldness that left Glen momentarily stunned.

His gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as a slow, almost predatory smile spread across his lips. “Careful what you ask for,” he warned, though the teasing lilt in his tone only made her more sure of herself.

“I mean it,” she replied, her fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer. “I’m yours, Glen. Just… take me.”

Glen’s hands slid under Gabby’s shirt, his palms warm and calloused against her bare skin. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every second of the moment. His fingers brushed over her ribs, making her shiver before he gently pushed the fabric up. Gabby raised her arms without hesitation, letting him pull the shirt over her head and toss it somewhere behind him.

His gaze dropped to her, and the way his eyes darkened made her stomach flip. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something more primal.

Gabby felt her cheeks flush under his intense stare, but before she could get too self-conscious, Glen reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion.

Her breath hitched as her eyes roamed over him, taking in the changes she hadn’t expected. The last time they’d been together, his chest had been smooth, but now, a fine dusting of hair covered his chest and trailed down to his abs, accentuating the defined lines of his body.

Her fingers reached out instinctively, tracing the new texture with curiosity. She let her palm glide over his chest, down to his stomach, where the muscle flexed beneath her touch. The sensation was different, but not unwelcome—it was grounding, a reminder of how much she’d missed him and how time hadn’t dulled their connection.

Glen watched her, his lips quirking into a soft smile. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and edged with amusement.

Gabby glanced up at him, her hand still resting on his chest. She nodded, her lips curving into a shy smile before her confidence surged again. “I do,” she said honestly, tugging him gently back down to her. “Makes you more rugged.”

Their lipsthen met in a kiss that was hungrier this time, fueled by the heat building between them. His hands moved to cradle her face, holding her close as he poured everything he couldn’t say into the kiss.

Gabby’s hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders, her fingers curling around the nape of his neck as she pulled him even closer. The world around them disappeared again, and all that mattered was this—being together, feeling each other, and making up for every second they’d spent apart.

Glen’s lips moved across Gabby’s skin, lingering at her collarbone before he kissed his way back up to her mouth. Each touch of his lips sent shivers down her spine, igniting a fire that had been building since the moment he walked back into her life.

“Gabby,” he murmured, his voice heavy with desire as their foreheads touched. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this—about you.”

She swallowed hard, her heart racing. “Then don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with want.

He kissed her again, slow and deliberate, before his hands slid to the waistband of her leggings. Gabby arched into him as he gently tugged them down, his touch careful and reverent. When they joined her shirt on the floor, he leaned back slightly, letting his eyes take her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice rough but genuine, making her cheeks flush under his gaze.

Glen reached for the button on his jeans, but as much as he was swept up in the moment, a flicker of restraint passed over his face. He froze, his hands stilling as he took a deep breath.

“Wait,” he said, his voice steady but soft. He leaned back slightly, brushing a hand over her cheek as if to reassure her. “I just… I need to grab something first.”

Gabby blinked, momentarily confused, before realization dawned on her. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she nodded. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice carrying no trace of frustration or impatience.

Glen pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before climbing off the bed, his movements hurried but careful. He retrieved his wallet from his jeans, fumbling with it for a second before pulling out a small foil packet.

When he turned back to her, Gabby couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him—his hair mussed, his chest rising and falling a little faster than usual, his expression a mix of anticipation.

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin as he climbed back onto the bed. “Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“You didn’t,” Gabby reassured him, reaching up to pull him down into another kiss. “I’m glad you’re responsible. It’s… kind of hot, actually.”

Glen chuckled and then his hands slid down Gabby’s sides, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake as he positioned himself between her legs. He shifted his hips slightly and then slowly started to press himself into her.

The moment they connected, both of them let out simultaneous sounds—his a deep groan that rumbled in his chest, hers a soft moan that hitched midway, the sensation a mix of longing and adjustment.

Gabby's fingers clutched his shoulders, her breath catching at the sudden fullness after so much time apart. It wasn’t pain, but the unfamiliarity of it made her tense momentarily.

Glen froze the instant he noticed, his hand immediately finding her cheek. “Hey,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing. His forehead rested against hers as his thumb stroked her skin. “Are you okay?”

She nodded quickly, but her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling against his. “I’m fine,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “I just… It’s been a while.”

His lips pressed a tender kiss to her temple as he stilled, giving her a moment to adjust. “I know, baby. I’ll take my time,” he assured her, his voice filled with nothing but patience and care. “Just tell me what you need.”

Gabby exhaled slowly, her hands relaxing their grip on his shoulders. She looked up at him, her gaze soft but determined. “I need you, Glen.”

His heart swelled at her words, and he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I’ll go slow, okay? Just tell me if you need me to stop.”

She nodded, her body gradually relaxing beneath him as his kisses trailed from her lips to her jaw, then down her neck. His hips shifted slightly, rocking gently to let her adjust at her own pace.

Gabby gasped softly, her body responding as the discomfort gave way to the ache of longing she’d been carrying for weeks. Her fingers slid into his hair, holding him close as her legs wrapped loosely around his waist.

“Better?” he asked, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Much better,” she breathed, her voice carrying a newfound confidence.

Glen groaned softly as he felt her starting to clench around him. His movements started growing more confident and intentional. Gabby arched against him, her body responding instinctively to the rhythm he set, every fiber of her being focused on the way he made her feel.

His lips started trailing kisses down her jawline and back to her neck again. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging gently as her breaths turned into soft cries, uninhibited and full of longing.

The sounds coming from Gabby spurred Glen on, his pace quickening slightly as he continued to thrust in and out of her. He whispered her name like a prayer, his voice filled with both love and desire, as they reveled in the closeness they’d both been craving for weeks.

Gabby’s hands roamed over his back, her nails digging in lightly as her body moved with his, the tension building until it threatened to spill over. Glen lifted his head, locking eyes with her, and the intensity of his gaze sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

“Let go, Gabby,” he murmured, his voice thick with encouragement. “I’ve got you.”

Their movements grew faster, more desperate, as if neither wanted to waste a second of the precious time they had together. Gabby clung to Glen, her fingers tangled in his hair as her breath hitched, her body arching toward him as the heat coiled tightly inside her, ready to snap.

“Glen,” she gasped, his name breaking from her lips like a plea.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice strained yet full of love, his forehead pressed to hers as they moved together. “Let go for me, baby.”

His words, paired with the way his body seemed to perfectly match hers, sent her over the edge. A cry escaped her, her body trembling beneath him as the waves of release coursed through her, pulling her under in the best way possible.

Glen followed moments later, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, his body tensing and then shuddering as he found his own release. His arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her against him as they both rode out the moment together, connected in every possible way.

As the tension ebbed, Gabby melted into Glen, her body relaxing completely beneath him. She buried her face in his shoulder, her breaths coming out in soft, uneven pants as she clung to him, savoring the warmth of his body pressed against hers.

Glen shifted slightly, careful not to crush her, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he collapsed onto the bed beside her, one arm still wrapped tightly around her waist as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

“God, I missed you,” he said, his voice rough and full of sincerity as he nuzzled his face into her hair.

Gabby smiled against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns over his skin as her breathing began to steady. “I missed you, too,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of emotion.

For a moment, neither of them moved, content to simply hold each other in the quiet aftermath. Glen’s thumb stroked soothing circles on her hip, and Gabby felt completely at ease, her worries melting away as she lay in his arms.

“You okay?” Glen asked after a while, his voice gentle as he tilted her chin up to look at her.

Gabby nodded, her green eyes sparkling with both happiness and contentment. “Better than okay,” she replied, her lips curving into a small smile.

Glen chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Good,” he said, his arm tightening around her.

They lay there for a while, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, the quiet stillness of the room making the moment feel even more intimate. Gabby traced her fingers lightly along Glen’s chest, marveling at how real and solid he felt beneath her touch. It was as if her body was trying to memorize every detail of him again after so much time apart.

Glen sighed contentedly, his hand combing gently through her hair. “This is nice,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost sleepy.

“Mmm,” Gabby agreed, her head resting over his heart. “I’ve missed this. Just being able to touch you. Hold you.”

“Me too,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “You have no idea.”

The peaceful quiet lingered until Glen shifted slightly beneath her, sitting up just enough to swing one leg over the side of the bed. Gabby’s eyes opened immediately, her arms tightening around his torso as she pulled him back toward her.

“Where are you going?” she mumbled, her voice still heavy with contentment and just a hint of sleepiness.

Glen chuckled softly, looking down at her. “Relax, I’m just getting a drink,” he teased, reaching for her hands as if to pry them loose, but Gabby clung tighter, nuzzling her face against his side.

“Don’t leave me,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his skin.

His teasing smirk faded, replaced by a look of tenderness that softened his entire expression. Glen turned back toward her, lying down again and pulling her into his arms without hesitation.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring as he kissed the corner of her mouth. “You’re stuck with me, remember?”

Gabby smiled faintly, her face still buried against him. “Good,” she said, her fingers curling into his side as if she wanted to hold on to him forever.

Glen tilted her chin up gently, brushing a thumb across her cheek. “I’m here, baby. I promise.”

The sincerity in his tone melted Gabby’s heart, and she leaned up to kiss him softly, grateful for every second they had together. As they settled back into the quiet, Glen held her even closer, whispering little reassurances in her ear until she fully relaxed against him again.

“Can I go get that drink now?” he teased after a moment, his lips brushing against her hair.

“Not if it means letting go of you,” Gabby replied, her voice playful but honest.

Glen laughed quietly, his chest rumbling beneath her. “Alright, I’ll survive.” 

He pressed another kiss to her forehead, settling back into the bed with her nestled against him. It was moments like this that made the distance and the waiting worth it. Being here with her was everything.

[fishbananasstuff]

“I’ll do anything for you”🎀

Additional tags: fem!reader pov, the reader is HORNY AS FUCK, age gap, asphyx!at!on, d!rty talk1ng, thr3at3ning (the reader likes it), violence, hair pulling, br€€ding k1nk, humiliation, heavy degrading, rough s€x, verbal humiliation, my first time writing smut please don't attack me guys

I was your student, a high achiever who tried her best to complete all quizzes, tests, and finals with a near-perfect score. Under that nerdy cover, I am head over heels for you. You’d trust me enough to let me be alone in your classroom, little did you know that—I secretly sniff your trench coat, your tie, your jacket, and your shirt while pleasuring myself with my vibrator. I buried my face into your clothes muffling my moans while inhaling your intoxicating scent. One day you asked me to help you set up the lab materials for the next class. I planned to wear a white blouse, dark grey mini pleated skirt, and black stockings then throw on a white lab coat showing off respectability but under that coat, is this:

(technically I changed my outfit the moment you tell me to come to your classroom)

I enter your lab but you’re not here. Kind of disappointing but I start to set up the laboratory equipment for my classmates.

*door unlocks*

I turned around looking at you ready to say ‘hello!’ instead of seeing your serene look, your face was dead serious not in a good way. The silence grows louder but then breaks by the sounds of your footsteps walking toward me.

"Heyyyyy. How are you doing? I'm almost done setting things up. Want to drink something?" just me pathetically trying to ease down the awkwardness in the room.

"I have something interesting to share with you sweetheart"

You grabbed the collar of my white lab coat scanning it for a second then rip my coat peaks causing the buttons to yank apart. You don’t even give me a chance to react…you cupped my cheek—

“You thought I don't know your little perverted scheme? Hm? Inhaling my clothes, touching yourself—Oh not to mention about that little journal you accidentally left it last class. I found out a lot of interesting things about you…to know more what is going on in your mind” Couple of days ago I lost my small notebook, I was in distress trying to look for it everywhere, straight fear shoot up my brain hoping that no one will look into it but I didn’t expect that it would be you. Tears start to form around the corner of my eyes as I kneel before you in fear, “Please—please don’t tell my parents!! I’m begging you please I know what I did was wrong—I’m sorry I couldn’t help it!” It’s so gut wrenching to get exposed like this especially with my own teacher, I feel like jumping off a bridge right now. You pull a chair over to sit down in front of me

“Are you really that desperate?”

“Y-yes…”

“Anything?”

I nods, small droplets of sweat trailing down my neck

“Well then—prove it” Your shoes nudge between my legs my cunt “Grind on my shoe. Only cum when I tell you to. If you cum without my permission, I’ll make sure you’ll suffer in the worse way possible” I hug your leg and then begin to grind. I don’t care if this is unethical I have been waiting for this moment to be this close to you, feeling my wet cunt against your shoe; riding it. You continued to make eye contact with me so I nuzzled against your pants hiding my face but it was just another excuse for me to inhale your scent.You smell heavenly divine it drives me fucking insane—and I don't mind being perverted as long as it comes to you. I will let you humiliate me anyway, degrade me, inflict any kind of physical pain on me, verbally abuse me, spank me, slap me, slut-shame me, threaten me—literally destroy my—

. . .

Oh.

I slowly turn my head up to look at you; just pure disappointment written on your face.

“Wait—I’m—

I yelp from you stepping on my cunt

“Huh…usually you would successfully complete any tasks that I gave you”you grabbed a fistful of my hair—“you truly have disappointed me. Take this punishment as future references so I don’t have to see this pathetic effort of yours”

Your tone completely changed,“Get up and lay your back on the table” you take off my tie and tied my wrist together.

“Close your eyes.” I feel the fabric brushes against my skin as my surroundings fade into darkness. My calves are tied I’m terrified of what you’re gonna do next but some part of me is kind of into this dominating stuff. I feel your cold hands groping my thighs beneath my red stockings as well then the coldness starts to trail up to my cunt. You forcefully rip out my soaking wet panties, I heard you playfully scoff seeing how horny I am for you. *zip* Oh god. It’s so..huge…I’m now even more terrified. I feel you rubbing the tip against my clit using my juices as lubricant, as if you’re teasing me.

“Huh. H-Hold on—”

You wasted no time in shoving your cock inside me. I let out a deliberate yelp but I remembered I had to stay quiet since school was still ongoing so I bit my lip hard. I listen to you grunting as you thrust deeper, I can feel my cervix being violated. It’s so fucking big I can’t hold in my moans anymore—

“Shhhh…sweetheart don’t be too loud now.”

I feel you pull your cock out and slam it back into me making my head jerk back. I feel like my womb is dripping out—

“Sweetheart…be quiet now~”

A slap delivered on my face after I continued to moan like a bitch in heat

“Aw…does that hurt? You're so cockdrunk that a slap is not effecting you at all—I guess I have to shut you up by force then—”

A strong hand wrapped around my neck with a sadistic smirk, you tighten your grip on my neck even to make me squirm and gasp for breath. My body arches off the table, my chest heaving against the cold, hard surface. Your other hand starts to grope my breast through the fabric of my shirt, eliciting a muffled cry from my constricted throat. My face begins to turn blue as foam and drool start to drip down my mouth. I land some soft pats on your hands to loosen up a bit. You lean in closer, your cock still buried deep inside me abusing my cervix with each thrust, “You like this, you wanted this. I’m just making your fantasy a reality but don't worry, I'm more than happy to oblige. If you can hold your breath for one minute—I will reward you. Don’t you want that from your favorite teacher? Hm?” I continued to main while being to choked like a dragged doll.

“Choking while moaning…What a–” you slap my thighs “–fucking pervert. I would've never thought my student would be an undercover slut” 

You lean back still grinding into me also giving me a moment to compose myself, my heart races as I take a deep breath and nod, willing myself to endure the coming torment. Your hand squeezes around my neck once again resuming violating my hole. You start to count out loud, each number punctuated by a vicious thrust of your hips. The pressure in my lungs builds, and stars dance in my vision. You're relentless, holding my tied wrists while thrusting deeper and harder, each thrust increases my lust for you. “Four... five... six…” I'm getting dizzy, my body desperately craving air, but I hold on, thinking of the sweet release I'll get if I can just last a little longer. “Seven... eight... nine…” Fifty seconds in, “Almost there, sweetheart. “C’mon, you can do it…Imagine me filling up your tiny womb, claiming you, making you mine in every way” The sweet words send a shiver down my spine causing me to clench around your cock involuntarily. 

 “Oh, you like that, don't you? The thought of being my little fucktoy, being used by me in every way possible to the point when I am the only person that you can think of when you’re horny. I am the only person you need in this life when I tell you to get down on your knees, you’ll get down on your knees, when I tell you to take my load inside you, you’ll take it without defying me. Do you understand?” I nods multiple times. Tears stream down my face wetting the blindfold, but I refuse to disobey you. You finally finished counting "Fifty-nine... sixty." You release my neck, and I start coughing violently, drool traveling down to my chin and dripping down on the table.  “Good girl…” you praise me with a tone filled with lust. 

“Here’s my reward for you, a big one.” With a final powerful thrust, you release a deep groan filling me with a hot thick load of cum. My body convulses in pleasure and pain; I can't help but cough and moan at the same time. Looks like we found your new favorite pastime," you sneer, pulling out of me and leaving me trembling on the table still gasping for air. After you've had your fill of my trembling body, you finally withdraw from me, your cock glistening with my juices and your cum. You remove the blindfold, and I blink against the harsh light, my eyes immediately drawn to your handsome face. You wipe off my face full of tears, drool, and cum that you shove to my mouth; a stark contrast to the pristine lab coat I wore when I first walked in. You smirk, taking in the sight of me, pathetically sprawled over your desk with my wrists still bound. “Look at yourself,” you murmur, your voice thick with satisfaction. “Such a pretty little slut, all used up…” My cheeks burn with embarrassment, I try to look away, but you grab my chin to meet your gaze. “Don’t be ashamed of yourself, I think I like this side of you” Sweet reassuring words just make me fall head over heels for you even more. “And we're going to have extra tutoring at my place. Be there on time, don’t make me wait, okay?” you land a kiss on my head as an extra reward, I assumed? The reality of my new role sinks in—I'm going to be at your mercy, subject to whatever depraved desires you have. Like an obedient dog who is satisfied with whatever the owner give to them ♡

[alicevandrusen]

I just needed to go home for a while.

[i-aint-nothin-but-a-nasty-dog]

You don't realize how much research fic writing requires until you start having to look up EVERYTHING

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Monster x Reader Headcanons

You find yourself kidnapped into a half-breed family of monsters and humans, for the purpose of an arranged marriage. Luckily for you, the groom is their only pure human, terribly handsome and charming. You'd perhaps appreciate him more if your eyes weren't glued to his monstrous older sibling...

Content: female reader, monster smut, reader is a shameless monster hoe

[Part 2]

You always imagined such kidnappings to be of theatrical intensity, being scooped up against your will as you scream and flail your arms, longing for a savior. The affair itself felt more like a formal summoning. Mysterious men appeared before you and merely announced that your presence is required, unfortunately without the choice of refusal. Might as well. You packed necessities under their polite supervision and now you're sitting at the table, facing multiple strangers who are casually enjoying their lunch. One of them, the head of the family apparently, explains that half-breeds are in a rather sensitive place when one considers human and monster politics. Thus, every now and then, they will do whatever it takes to strengthen their bonds and show good intent towards both species. This time it's an arranged marriage with a fellow human.

Why you, in particular? No need to concern yourself with intricate details. What matters now is that you are to be married soon and your groom is right here, enthusiastically waving in a welcoming greeting. You scan his features and can't help but agree with the family: he is, by all definitions, a conventionally handsome man. His face is carefully chiseled in most elegant, yet masculine features. His voice is confident but warm, and you can tell by the flock of servants hovering around that he's rather popular. After the luxurious meal he guides you around the imposing home, showing you to your room and briefing you on future responsibilities. Caring, attentive, and several other checks that you can easily mark in his favor.

Yet one vital aspect has been omitted. The prince's mesmerizing beauty was rather swiftly discarded once you realized the presence of his older sibling, a pure monster blood towering above everyone else and idly eating his food, uninterested. You managed to hide your blush in time, but you couldn't help throwing curious glances. Might've been easier for everyone involved if they handed out 'monster lover' badges. Alas, you weren't prepared to ever be faced with the choice.

The next day you're awoken by the murmur of diligent work, as both servants and family pace back and forth about their plans. You sneak your way out - since nothing is yet expected of you - and wander until you find your intended target: the beastly sibling is polishing a bizarre weapon you don't recognize in what seems to be a storage room littered with battle memorabilia. He notices your presence and acknowledges you with a bored nod. You ask whether you may observe his current activity and he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously before agreeing. Why would you care? Certainly there's more entertaining things for you to do as a soon-to-be bride.

As you listen to his little stories from the battleground (hardy monsters like him are better off fighting, not socializing), you have to pat your cheeks in desperate attempts to cool down your burning blush. "H-how comes you don't have a partner?" You mutter, almost feverish. "Not interested. Plus, who would dare to marry me?" he jokes, focused on the sharp item in his clawed hands. There it is. Hesitation and diplomacy out the window, you rearrange yourself, smoothening your clothing, and whisper: "Well, if I had to choose, I would've preferred you as my husband..."

Once again he stares at you bewildered. Have you come here to mock him or something? A frail, pretty human like you, about to tie the knot with his stunning younger brother, showing up here and behind everyone's backs to openly flirt with him. Ridiculous beyond comprehension. His skin is thick enough to not mind such twisted humor, so if anything he's impressed by your audacity. Alright, if you've come for jokes, he'll comply. He places his weapon down and fully turns to you. A little scare might teach you to be more respectful with your in-laws next time.

With a speedy movement that's barely registered by your eyes, he pushes you on the floor and pins you by the wrists, lowering himself uncomfortably close to your face. "If you tease me like this, I might not be able to hold back." He says as he forces himself to smile extra hard, revealing the multiple rows of fangs. "In fact, I can't guarantee you'd make it out of here alive." Hopefully he isn't going too far with his tactics. He senses your frantic breathing and is about to apologize for continuing your prank, but you blurt out in a daze: "Yes, please! I've been thinking about it ever since I saw you." You're panting for dear life as your face is turning a deep shade of red.

Uh oh. Now this is awkward. You weren't...you weren't kidding. For a moment, he freezes in place, trying to recollect himself to no avail. Fucking your brother's future wife in a storage room in the middle of the day feels like poorly written erotic romance. Then again, he can't deny the sudden urge overwhelming him at the mere thought of it. You're squirming underneath him, gliding your legs across his now obvious bulge. His common sense is hanging by a comically thin thread and he can almost hear the instant when it snaps. Thankfully some leftovers of sanity must have remained in the back of his mind and his lustful grunts while pounding you are kept low enough that no one is notified of your horny deeds. Shutting you up was the bigger challenge.

"Is this too tight, miss?" You spin in front of the mirror and the servant readjusts the lace corset adorning your wedding dress. You have to hold back your yawn. Downright shameless and perverted of you to daydream about your monster boyfriend while trying on bridal gowns, but it's not like you agreed to it to begin with. You were kind of hoping to discuss future dating prospects post-intercourse, but someone had been looking for you shortly afterwards and you struggled to regain your composure. Your scary-looking suitor shooed you away with the promise of a reunion.

Before the servant can reach for the next dress, you both jump, startled by angry shouts coming from the hall. You rush outside to witness the older sibling standing before the head of the family. The wrathful threats were coming from the much smaller half-human. "Y-you can't just decide like that!" He screams. "Of course I can. You're welcome to fight me for it." The monster sibling flashes a smug grin. "Can anyone here defeat me?" His question is met with silence. He spots you and gestures you to come towards him. "I'll say it one more time. Find another human for my brother if you have to. This one is mine." He ends his sentence in a low growl and you shiver underneath his heavy arm. Boy, what a time to be alive.

[kitten4sannie]

backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

-

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve. 

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place. 

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.” 

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.” 

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?” 

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.” 

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.” 

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over. 

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side. 

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks. 

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum. 

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear. 

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip. 

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[chuluoyi]

✎ the babysitters' club

- gojo satoru x reader

in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!

genre: total crack, first years are trying their best to babysit your son to save their grades, an attempt at humor, gojo is irritating as always, fluff, fluff, fluff

note: this is sooo incredibly silly :') some inspiration are taken from the baby starfish onesie, this ask, and this illustration -> if you're wondering how gojo dressed his baby, he's looks just like that :)) tagging @3zae-zae3 <3

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Gojo-sensei... what is that wiggling starfish!?"

On one sunny day in jujutsu school... trouble is once again brewing in the form of Gojo Satoru bringing his baby son to the class.

"Starfish? No, no," Gojo retorted with a displeased expression, directing his gaze towards Yuji and clicking his tongue as he patted his squirming baby, which was still hidden from their view. "He's my pride and joy! Don't refer to him as starfish!"

"But you've got him dressed up as one..." Nobara pointed out, her tone flat and unimpressed.

"That's his kid," Megumi provided, wearily sighing. God, he knew already today was going to be a long day.

No one from school had seen your seven-month old baby son yet, and Gojo was determined to make it an occasion to remember.

Beaming with pride, he gently removed his baby from the starfish-themed onesie, revealing him in a tiny black jujutsu outfit specially tailored for him, complete with miniature black glasses. He held him up, presenting him for everyone to see.

"Behold, everyone... my son! Isn't he just adorable?!"

. . . a momentary silence before—

"Oh my goodness, he is!" Nobara cooed, forgetting her earlier sentiment, immediately approaching the baby with shining eyes. "Sensei, how could you manage to have a baby this cute!?"

"Heh! Only the finest technique utilized to create him—"

"Complete bullshit—"

"Hush, Megumi! No cussing in front of my baby! I'll deduct your marks!"

"Seriously...?"

"Now, class, today I have a very, very important task for you..." Gojo said, his voice dripping with mischief as he sported a broad grin. "If you succeed, I'll personally draft a recommendation letter for each of you to Yaga. But if you don't..." he paused for the suspense, scanning his three students' curious faces.

"Then I'm failing you in my class!" Gojo continued with a grin, prompting immediate reactions from his students.

“What! Why?!”

“That's not fair!”

“Sigh.”

“All you have to do was to watch over him until I come back. Everything you need is here— in this bag!”

Megumi rolled his eyes. Nobara raised an eyebrow. Only Yuji who seemed to be genuinely interested.

"Isn't that easy?" Gojo tilted his head playfully, looking absolutely stupid with his blindfold. "There are three of you here. If you can't even manage to look after one baby, then you should not even think about romance and dating."

"Nonsen—"

"Quiet, Megumi!"

And so began the day's mission: looking after Baby Gojo until his father's return.

“Lalala~ look you’re flying!”

“Fwa...”

“Kugisaki, don’t hold him like that! You’re making him cry!”

“No, I’m not— Itadori! Don’t smush his face—!”

“WAAA!”

“You idiot!” Megumi hissed, plucking the poor baby from his clueless friends and immediately soothed him, pulling him close and patting his back. He even gently shushed him, “There, there...”

And Yuji and Nobara could only look at him in awe as the baby's wails turned into soft sniffles, peaceful in his embrace.

"Whoa... Fushiguro, so babies like you, huh..."

"Unfair!" Nobara clicked his tongue, before fixing a wide smile and waved at the baby in Megumi's arms. "Hi baby~ don't you want to held by big sister—"

"He doesn't like you, Kugisaki."

And so, that was how the three of them spent half the day—constantly watching over Baby Gojo, with Megumi supervising both the baby and his two friends.

"Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in him..." Megumi grumbled sullenly, resigned to his fate, his gaze fixed on the crawling baby while he sat on the floor and threw his little sunglasses.

For all the sighs he exuded, Megumi undeniably had a soft spot for the baby. Prior today, he had held him several times, and he'd never admit it, but he'd protect him to the best of his ability, if anything, because you had done so much for him.

“Gojo-sensei is cool!” Yuji remarked. “Of course Y/N-sensei is happy with him.”

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Only you would say that.”

"Hey, don't you think he wants his milk?" Yuji suddenly pointed out, as the baby became fussy. Megumi nodded and Yuji immediately reached for the bag Gojo left. He pulled out a bottle and handed it to his friend, but in the process, he accidentally knocked the bag over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

"Ahh, my bad," the boy sighed, collecting the diapers and washcloth, until he realized that there were some more—

"What's that? Photographs?" Nobara picked one of them up, and immediately gasped. "Oh my! Look at this!"

On the picture was the same baby, but much more smaller and swaddled in baby blue blanket and tiny blue beanie. Most likely taken when he was a newborn.

"Whoa, wait, there's something written behind the photo..."

When she flipped it over, both she and Yuji studied the messy handwriting, instantly recognizing it as their teacher's.

Yaaay! ♡ Baby is here! I'm sooo happy you made it! But mama went through a lot to bring you here... so don't ever forget that she loves you very, very much, okay?

"This is sweet." Nobara looked at the picture with a genuine smile, until she realized that there were some more scattered on the floor.

The other picture was of the blue-eyed baby on his arms and knees, wrapped in an orange and black bee onesie, complete with little wings, and behind it was written:

Aren't you just the cutest bee?! And what's more, you've started crawling! Aw, papa is so proud! In no time at all, you're going to be as strong as me!

"What are you two doing over there?" Megumi asked, still feeding the baby with the milk bottle. Nobara beckoned him over.

The third photo was of you smiling so prettily while holding your baby, still in his bee suit, and Gojo also in the frame, wrapping his arm around you, clearly the one holding the camera to take the selfie.

Two my most precious treasures ♡ Sweetheart, I love you. And baby too!

Yuji smiled, as he felt warmth spreading in his chest. "Gojo-sensei really treasures his family, huh?"

"He is," Megumi agreed, because he had seen it all throughout his life.

"Well, no wonder..." Nobara giggled. "Any woman showered with this much love would be happy."

And that day, the trio also uncovered another side of their teacher, that his deepest affection was reserved exclusively for his wife and child.

Well, the sentimental feeling didn't last long though...

"This is our chance!" Nobara said in a hushed whisper. "When else are we going to get an extra family discount!?"

Megumi was so ready to burst a blood vessel as he held the baby—given that he had forbidden his two friends to lay a finger on him. "We are meeting Gojo-sensei here, not to—!"

"Hush! Itadori, don't you agree with me?!"

Yuji nudged his cross friend, trying to appease him. "Lighten up, Fushiguro! We can have more meat!"

At the last minute, Gojo suddenly told the three of them to bring his baby and meet him at the shopping center as he didn't want to waste energy to go back to the school. And like broke students Nobara and Yuji were, they decided to use Baby Gojo to snag an extra plate in a yakiniku place.

Megumi's eyes twitched. "This is not making sense at all, they won't believe—!"

"Shut up, you! Waiter~ here! We have a baby! So we're eligible for the family package!"

The judging stare of the waiter was enough to make Megumi combust on the spot, and yet somehow he passed the four of them as family eligible for the extra plate.

It was later, after they had their lunch that Megumi suddenly had an upset stomach and left the baby momentarily in his two friends' care.

And under less-than-watchful eyes...

"Hey, Kugisaki, meat on this side is the juiciest! Try it!"

"Ooh, you're right!"

The baby only blinked at them in wonder as he stayed in his spot. Not for long though... and it didn't help that they forgot his existence after they went to the cashier and headed out.

"Oi, Itadori! Don't forget to split the bill!"

"Oh yeah! Anyway, why is Fushiguro taking so long?"

Megumi got back right afterwards, and he frowned. "You done already? I haven't even gotten my ocha refill—" and it dawned to him when he saw both Yuji and Nobara with empty hands.

"Wait... where's the baby?"

"—! Oh my god!"

And when the three of them rushed back to the yakiniku place and approached their table earlier, Nobara almost screamed at the empty chairs, "He is gone!"

"You left the baby with the kids and told them to come here?!"

You were positively fuming as you scolded your stupid husband in the bustling mall.

"Well, we haven't gotten much time to spend together, just the two of us!" Satoru retorted, his tone sulky as he pouted. "And besides, Megumi is there. I'm sure they'll do just fine~"

You let out a sigh. True enough, being parents is no joke. Aside from stay-at-home dates, the frequency of the two of you going out had dwindled exponentially since having your baby.

"Technically, you are still on the clock though." You threw him a glare. "You're being a very irresponsible teacher."

Satoru smirked. "Heh, spare me. But I'm being a very good teacher to you in our—"

"One more word and I'm locking you out—!"

Just as you were about to give him your (empty) threat, the building suddenly boomed with an announcement from the mall's broadcast speaker.

"Attention, shoppers. We've received a report from three teenagers that they've lost a baby. He is seven-month old, wears black shirt, has white hair and blue eyes. He is last seen at Yakiniku Q—"

"Satoru..." your voice trembled, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. The baby described by the speaker was unmistakably your son, and the realization of him being missing sent you spiraling into panic.

"Hey, calm down." Satoru gripped your hand tightly, his voice steady as he faced you. "We're going to find him, alright? I'm here. Don't worry."

And after taking off his glasses, in a matter of seconds, Satoru figured out where he was.

Nobara's eyes welled up with tears, frustrated. "What do I do, Gojo-sensei will fail us now..." she muttered, biting her lip.

"That's what you're worried about?" Megumi replied, turning to her with a clear glare.

"He's going to be fine! He is!" Yuji interjected, trying to reassure his two friends despite his own rising anxiety. "He’s not just any random baby—who knows, maybe he can shoot cursed energy to protect himself!"

Megumi and Nobara leveled their annoyed stares on him and Yuji immediately regretted his attempt to lighten the mood.

"I still think he can't get far from the yakiniku place." Megumi was too panicked to check with the staff earlier and just went with Yuji's suggestion to report it to be announced, but now that he thought about it— "I think we should go back."

And thank goodness the three of them returned for the second time because, this time, they finally saw the baby safely cradled in your arms, with Gojo speaking to the waitresses nearby.

"Oh?! Gojo-sensei is here!"

But as soon as the three of them came into view, Gojo immediately fixed them with his unamused gaze.

"You three..." his voice was lower and it made the three kids shudder. "What did I tell you about failing this mission, huh?"

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi were visibly spooked, immediately bowing their heads in unison as they chorused—

"Gojo-sensei, we're so sorry!"

Nobara then pointed an accusing finger at Yuji. "But it was his fault! He kept eating away and didn't even oversee the baby anymore!"

"Wha!?" Yuji glared back at her. "No! You too! You kept eating my meat too!"

"Whatever it is, I'm not a part of this—" Megumi cut in boldly. "My stomach hurt so I had to go for a bit, and they couldn't even keep an eye on him—"

You soothed your squirming son as the first years were throwing blame at each other. Gaping in confusion, you couldn't help but wonder how such a simple task had turned into this incident.

"Tsk." Gojo crossed his arms dramatically, and you knew he was just messing with them, as he suddenly turned to you with a grin.

"Nah, as both a teacher and the victim's mother— Sensei~ who do you think is responsible for this? Or should I punish all three of them?"

The three kids before you were quaking in their boots, and you really didn't have time for this right now. Honestly, if if you had to quickly pinpoint the source of this chaos...

You directed your most irked glare at your husband. "You."

“Huh?!”

“You’re the one staging this by threatening their grades, and it results in our baby being missing!”

Now you were bickering with your husband and putting him in his rightful place. Nobara and Yuji gaped, while Megumi heaved a sigh of relief.

"Does this mean... our grades are saved?"

Epilogue

"They said he fell..." You pat your baby's head worriedly as he babbled happily in his crib, your expression darkening into a frown.

You didn't really blame the first years for their lack of experience, but as his mother, the news from the restaurant staff that they had found your son falling from the chair made you extremely uneasy.

Seeing your distress, Satoru’s natural response was to comfort you until you were back to smiles again. He gently tickled his boy's tummy, prompting him to squeal in absolute joy. "Look, he's perfectly fine. You don't need to worry so much, yeah?"

"But it's strange... I'm happy he's fine, but how? Most babies will get hurt or at least be inconsolable after falling. But he was totally okay..."

Satoru shifted his gaze to his son, as now his round, crystal blue eyes that mirrored his blinked back at him with such innocence and trust that even melted his heart.

"Ah, I see." Suddenly he smiled as if he had figured something out. "This is just my guess, but you know my guesses have like... 90% of probability of being correct—"

"Hmm...?"

"He might have activated Infinity by instinct. Heh."

[st4rbwrry]

𝓢𝓐𝓣𝓞𝓡𝓤’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛.    satoru gojo.

ᰔᩚ warnings. 5.2k, fem!reader, professor!satoru x college student!reader, classroom sex cs duh, reader’s 23! & satoru’s 30!, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱, titty sucking, biting, size kink, voice kink, sub / dom dynamic, fingering, choking, spanking, lotssss of dirty talk omgie, multiple orgasms, pet names ꒰ lil’ girl (literally just a taunt), pretty, baby ꒱, roughhhhh sex ona desk, minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated. ♡

꒰ mocha’s note ! ꒱ : got inspired by miller’s girl and wrote this in literally five hours. so, happy bday daddy. <3

he always knew there was something wrong with you. how could there not be? one, you’re deadly in the eyes. that he solidified the first day. always looking at him like you wanted to eat him. two, you're a mythical deity. stunning. you could be born in a different world for all he knew. sometimes he hated those voices that told him to stare at you. watch you watch him. velvet red hair cut in layers that reach the middle of your back. dermal piercing a few inches below your right eye, multiple on your ears, septum ring in your nose. your eyes are slanted like a cat, fluffy lashes enhance your features. your lips always look soft, darkly lined, and topped with a sheen of gloss. 

most days you dressed according to weather, or really whatever you felt comfortable in. yesterday, when going over the topic for an essay he wanted everyone to have written and turned in before spring break hit, you were different. just tuesday you were wearing oversized men’s jorts with a basketball jersey tied up to your back. now, when you walked into his classroom with less clothing than he’s ever seen you in, he had to question it. you looked nice. it wasn’t any of his business, maybe you could be going out later with friends. it’s not his business. 

what was his business was how you strutted up to his desk after you waited for every student to exit class. satoru sat in his leather chair, legs sprawled and hands clasped together in front of him as he leaned back into his seat. his eyes absentmindedly trail up and down your body full of curves and soft, ample skin. the tattoos on various areas of your body are more evident. the black prescription glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you chew your gum and hand over your essay. those short ass white ruffled shorts and a yellow crop top, without a bra, with green accents and black font that read ‘soulaan’ in the middle a distraction.

“hi, ꒰♡꒱. you’re always one of the few people who turn in their work early.” 

“what can i say, i was very passionate about this essay,” you twirl your finger within your necklace, scanning his entire face with flirtation. satoru hums, pretending not to notice. “i really put my entire soul into it, so please take your time reading it. it’ll mean a lot.” 

“must’ve been a really interesting dream of yours.” 

“you have no idea.” 

and you were fucking right. that night satoru went home and started his usual routine of getting comfortable, making dinner, and brewing some coffee so he’s wide awake to read over thirty student essays. luckily, he didn’t ask for much. they were given two options. their goal was to describe the perception of dreams or in detail, write a tragic fantasy story. most of the essays he read felt like middle school writing, frustratingly rubbing his temples as he graded multiple papers, trying to figure out why basic comprehension skills were lacking, even doubting himself as a teacher. he tries not to stay up for hours, flipping through papers and scribbling—until he sees your name on the corner. 

satoru sniffles, taking a sip of his coffee before he’s getting comfortable in his chair, sinking into it and beginning to read what you wrote about. you’ve always had a way with words, great formatting, expansive dictionary. when reading your dream, it felt like a real novel, like he was a part of it. then, he felt really a part of it, to a point where it was uncomfortable. the story has to do with a woman who aches for an intimate union with her lover, yet he’s withholding her pleasure, leaving her trembling on the precipice of desire in their lover's den. the greek god you describe as your lover is dominating. stunning facial features, starlight hair, and crystal blue eyes. the woman is feeble, urging him to see her, to yearn for her, to become one with her. abandoning her needs for his personal endeavors. 

with gentle touches that linger on the softness of her plush thighs, smoothing along her brown skin shining under the moonlight, she results in the sensual act of pleasuring herself. the help of her lover is nowhere to be found in the darkness where her body laid on milk-toned, silk sheets. leaving her to pursue the cavern flowing with burning, hot arousal. she finds herself daydreaming of what could’ve been as her delicate fingers find themselves sinking between her precious legs. trailing another hand to her throat which she clutches tight as if it were his. rolling her hips into her hand to grind on as if he were entering himself into her. dulcet whimpers escaping her throat as her body arches off the bed in ecstasy, mind swirling with pleasurable emotions and unforeseen desires. rocking her body upon the bed as if his heavy, big body hovered over her and lost himself in her. spanking herself as if it were him. chewing on her lower lip as if he were gnawing at them. orgasming with tiny whimpers and sobs as if he were the cause. him, him, him. . . 

the heat encasing satoru’s face could only sum up one feeling; arousal. the essay goes on for so much longer, conjuring up unwanted fantasies of a woman he promised to push back into the furthest parts of his brain. you were altering his mind. it was clear as day exactly who you wrote this for and about. him. what you wanted from him, the longing ache to have him. it’s enough to give him a migraine, cutting off his desk lamp before forcing himself to take a very cold shower. those words replay in his mind, the image becoming erotically more vivid. picturing your body atop of silk sheets where you’d fuck yourself out of pity. is that how he’s making you feel? edged? unsatisfied? whimpering in your loneliness? he’d never do that to you. 

satoru hates himself for needing to handle the painful hard on he’d gotten, head buried under the stream of water as his fist twists roughly around his aching dick, grunting at any image of your face coming to mind. it was a highly inappropriate thing to do. a professor and his student sleeping together? it’s all too cliche. you were a grown ass woman, so if teasing him by switching up how you dressed to purposely gain his attention, and writing erotic pornography was your way of showing him you needed him for one act, one day, one night of nasty ass sex . . what were he to do? you are a beautiful woman, and he’s always felt a source of attraction to you, but you weren’t worth jeopardizing his career for. it’d have to wait. 

the last day before spring break came and he was ready to confront you about your so-called ‘essay’. when he notices you walking into class, he tries to avoid staring at your attire; a really short black pleated skirt with a matching ed hardy tank top and glossy mary jane’s on your feet. gulping and keeping his focus on your eyes as he whispers, “stay after class. i need to talk to you.” 

you try to hide the smirk wanting to display upon your face, winking at him before nodding and finding your seat. class seems exceptionally longer today, finding yourself dozing off for most parts, shutting off your brain by doodling into your journal or making a grocery list for this weekend. pulling a sweet treat from your purse, you find a pink lollipop to distract yourself with, oral fixation getting to you. satoru almost chokes on his words when he catches you swirling your tongue mindlessly around your candy, being a fucking brat in his eyes. gently kicking your feet and resting your chin in your hand to keep yourself from sleeping. 

when the lecture ended, that’s when your heart began to race in excitement, and maybe a sheer sense of nervousness. curious to hear what he was going to say to you. making your way down the steep stairs of the class, you sit in the front row, plopping into a chair and crossing your legs as you look up at him, watching him say his final goodbyes as the class completely clears out. half of the campus was empty considering most students began making their way home, so really only fifteen students showed their faces today. 

satoru’s shoulders roll as he sighs, folding his arms in front of him. “so, ꒰♡꒱. . . i read your essay.” 

“uh huh, what’d you think?” you smile. 

“it's definitely something. very good writing, never doubted you on that. but, i do have some questions.” 

you snap your fingers before pointing them his way like a gun. “shoot!”

“you remember the topic of discussion, correct?” 

“wrote it down in bold,” you nod. 

“right, but, i think we went far off topic. as in, inappropriately.” 

“what are we, in high school?” you scoff. “i’ve read worse. i used to grade papers for teachers.” 

“i understand that. but it’s evidently not what i meant as far as the topic goes. in this dream of yours, the two characters are . .” he pauses, trying to figure out what to say. 

“fucking,” you finish for him, still sucking on your lollipop. 

satoru’s gaze flew there momentarily before finding your eyes again. “having intercourse, yes. i’m just having a hard time comprehending what you wrote.”

“why is that?” 

“how is it considered a tragedy?” 

“well, the woman couldn’t have what she wanted in the end. she was edged, given false hope from promises that were made to her. pleading for any form of gratification. why, as a man, deny your lover of acts that forever bonds their love?” 

you bat your lashes, eyes going wide as you word it so . . dreadfully. satoru inhales, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he squints at you. 

“so, she killed herself in the end, because she wasn’t gratified?” 

“as implied, yes. the pain of a woman, you’d never understand. it’s unbearable. feels like death, satoru,” a pained sigh emits from you as you hold your heart and shake your head. “ugh.” 

“꒰♡꒱,” satoru blinks, your games becoming unfunny. “was this dream something you recalled, or are you trying to imply something?” 

“dreams can’t always exist, unless you persuade yourself to make it real,” you respond firmly, making yourself as clear as you possibly can. 

“do you want it to be real?” 

“do you?” you counter. 

satoru pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, turning his attention away. “i-i can’t answer that.” 

“why not?”

“it’s just . . not in my position to answer that. it’s inappropriate.” 

“but, you felt it, right?” your voice grows softer.

he looks at you. “felt what?” 

“our attraction to each other,” your head slowly tilts to the side, eyeing him up and down, watching him slightly shift. “through that essay. what i want from you, what you’ve been wanting from me, professor satoru.” 

his jaw stiffens. “you’re essentially crossing a line.” 

“the only thing i’m crossing are my legs,” a loud pop! rings as you remove the lollipop from your mouth, looking at it before deciding to crack it in your mouth and tossing the white stick somewhere in the room. satoru’s fists clench whilst he admires your glistening legs. “you want them . . un-crossed? open?” 

“꒰♡꒱.” 

“mhm,” you moan after hearing your name desperately fall from his lips. he didn’t mean for it to sound that way, sucking in his breath as your fingers trail within your plush inner thighs. “it’s wet, professor satoru. see.” 

next, you spread your legs apart, lifting your skirt up some more so satoru can easily see the imprint of your cunt against the red fabric of your cotton panties, wetness sealing and sticking to you. 

satoru clears his throat, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck with a rough grunt, trying to contain himself from acting on his obvious desires. his polished loafers click amongst the tile as he strides quickly towards the classroom door, locking it and pulling the shade down so there would be no interruptions. he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he shouldn’t even react this quickly in fact. but he’s been pent up ever since last night, having such a hard time sleeping. only the thought of you glimmering in his mind. 

satoru takes a deep breath with shut eyes, hands sliding back into his slacks pockets as he leans against the desk, one foot crossed over the other, those once daydream blue eyes now staring maliciously in your direction. you bite your lip, slowly rising from your seat to strut towards him, hips swaying salaciously. 

your body brushes amongst his seductively slow, tits grazing his chest and arms that are tightly fitted into his baby blue button down, lips coming up to graze over his clenched jawline. your hand trails up his left arm, feeling the hair on his skin rise as your nails brush along his neck where a vein throbs violently, blood rushing. 

“don’t be so scared, i don’t bite. and i don’t tell.” 

in a swift move, you're hiking your body on top of the mahogany wood desk, kicking off your shoes and planting your feet flat on the surface, legs spread wide to allow him to slot himself between you. satoru’s vision remains unchanged, still staring at the seat you once resided in as he breathed heavily. your manicured foot skims up and down his strong arm, your short, bubblegum acrylics sliding into your mouth as you lewdly suck on your own fingers while mewling. satoru can see you in his peripheral vision, your hips shifting dauntingly, just waiting for him to react. 

“you already locked the door, what are you waiting for?” 

“for you to say it.” 

you grin. “say what, baby?” 

satoru scoffs, shifting in his spot from the sudden pet name, dick uncomfortably hard. “that you want me to fuck you, ꒰♡꒱. i need to hear it.” 

okay, you get it. lowering your leg from touching him, you go to grab his hand instead, the expensive watch on his wrist cold to touch as you guide him to touch the top of your thigh. “want you to fuck me like you've been needing to, satoru. please.” 

an unexplainable breath of air releases from him as he finally faces you, and seeing you spread along his desk like this felt like a hallucination. most of this didn’t feel real. maybe he was still sleeping? and if that was the case, there were no rules. his towering body slots between your thighs, glaring down at you possessively as he smoothes both his veiny hands up and down your thighs, tightening at your hips before sliding back up. going back down to apply pressure to your ass, then lowering his head to your pretty face. 

“gimme your mouth,” satoru rasps, clutching your neck to pull your face up before you oblige and lean in for a kiss first to feed his hunger. 

satoru grunts in your mouth, soft lips molding with your own in a passionate kiss. it’s slow, sucking on each other's lips before you’re sucking and moaning on his thick tongue, moaning into his mouth while he pants into yours. you suck on his lips, turning your head slightly to deepen the kiss, unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to feel the heat from his skin. then goes his belt, unraveling it along with pulling down his zipper, and that causes satoru to get aggressive with his mouth. kissing so rough it makes your pussy throb. 

“you taste so good, pretty,” he moans in between, turning your neck to the side to latch his lips and tongue on the flesh, your eyes rolling back as he found your sensitive spot. you gasp from the whimper he emits as he does it. 

“f-fuck,” you whimper, gripping his wrist as he suddenly sinks his teeth delicately into your skin, soothing it with a rough, slow swiped of his tongue before ending it with a kiss. 

he’s traveling to the other side to do the same, your hips rocking on the desk to try to get closer to him, his bulge only grazing your soaked pussy. you lift your hips and scoot closer, balancing yourself by gripping onto his shoulders to drag yourself against the outline of his dick. satoru moans from the motion, locking his right hand under your left thigh to raise higher so he could grind against you like you whimpered for, dry humping you as he continues to kiss you.  

soon, he’s lifting your top over your tits, eyeing them as they sit on your chest, barbells pierced into the dark skin of your nipples. it created a visceral response from him, shifting his hips to grind against you harder as if he’s fucking you slow, cocking his head to latch his full mouth around your tits. your head falls back as he pulls them into his mouth greedily, dropping your hips on him mindlessly. 

“satoru, you’re g’na make me cum too soon,” you whine into his ear, but he ignores you completely, almost growling like a dominant animal in heat as he locks you close. 

“g’na cum a few times fuckin’ me, so get over it,” he mumbles after releasing your tit with a lewd pop, switching his mouth to drop his tongue and enclose his lips over the other, tongue flicking with his hands slamming against the side of your ass falling bare of your skirt. 

satoru hisses a deep ‘fuck’ as you rotate your hips quicker, humping him like a bunny, an orgasm in fact happening. satoru picks up his pace, rolling his hips forward to match your rhythm, his eyes sparkling from your desperation. he’s leaking precum, and your slickness is drenching his briefs. 

“mgh, baby—fuck,” your tongue lolls out to lick and suck at the shell of his ear, biting gently on his earlobe as your knees buckle and you whimper while grabbing at his backside to pull him indefinitely closer. 

“lemme taste that shit,” satoru’s almost begging, your heavy breathing by his ear and inability to stop moving your hips fucking him up. he knows you taste as good as you look. 

you grip the edges of the desk as you nod, legs shakily raising as he roughly pulls your victoria’s secret thong with a blinged hemline off to finally see his other girl, lowering to his knees in worship. 

“she’s pretty as hell,” he whispers with an erotically drawn-out moan, licking his lips before he leaves open-mouthed kisses at your inner thighs, holding yourself open for him. he spanks your thigh hard, the hit making you squeak and stare at him with a stretched jaw and furrowed brows. “where’s that thank you, lil’ girl?”

“t-thank you, baby.” 

“mhm, that’s right,” now his lips are latching onto your sluice clit, hungry eyes piercing into your every emotion as you whimper pathetically and maintain eye contact you’re sure he wants. “fuck yes, baby. so fuckin’ good, girl. rock on my face.” 

sinking your teeth into your lips which you’re sure were bitten red and nearly chapped, you comply, gripping tight on the desk while your other hand tangles into tresses of white, swallowing and lifting your hips just like you were doing a few minutes ago. satoru’s thumbs are embedded into either side of your thighs, using only your pelvic muscle to shift into his mouth, his fat tongue hot on your pussy. 

“tongue so good, baby. nng,” your face scrunched up as he growls into your cunt, your inner thighs shaking when he slicks his face up and down your pussy, juices covering his chin. “right there, right there!” 

satoru keeps his mouth where you want it, focusing mostly on your engorged clit pulsating on his tongue, digging into and occasionally capturing it with his lips, his salvia drooling onto you as he moans, his eyes scrolling as you tug at his hair. 

“oooooo, fuck, yessss,” you didn’t mean to scream, but his attention on your clit gets distracted by his thick fingers sliding into your hole, twisting and thrusting two of them simultaneously. his jaw shifts quick, kissing and licking while he fucks you open. “ ‘t-toruuuhh.” 

“unh huh,” satoru continues to swallow you. “gimme that fuckin’ cream, baby. i want it all in my mouth. make me proud. atta girl.” 

you cry out, stomach heaving. “i love when you talk like that.” 

his fingers pull out to quickly spank your clit, your hips stuttering as he’s slipping them back in, pumping three to four times before taking them out again and spanking your clit again. “that’s what you like?” 

“y-yessss!” 

“fuckin’ sexy ass girl,” he spanks your outer thigh with vigor, coming to grab your throat once again, giving you a chaste kiss while he finger fucks you faster. “ain’t you? fuckin’ let me know. scream that shit out loud.” 

“i amm, ugh—god . . pleaseeee.” 

“go ‘head and cum, c’mon. gotta paint my dick pretty with it, yeah?”

“oh . . my . . g-goddd,” the way he talks to you makes you dizzy, and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. his mouth is filthy, and when you cum hard for the second time, he makes sure you suck on his fingers to taste yourself. wrapping your lips around them to suck them clean before satoru’s sticking out his tongue to rush over your mouth along with his fingers, pulling them into his mouth to suck after. 

your eyes are drooped, feeling so fucked out without actually having him fuck you yet. who would’ve expected your professor to be this . . nasty? it’s like he’s been waiting for you to speak up so he can fulfill his own disgusting fantasies. safe to say, you made a good choice. 

satoru’s standing back to his full height, which never fails to make you ditzy from the size difference. you feel so small on this desk under him. 

“c’mere, move up all the way,” he’s now guiding you to turn your back to him, which makes you pout since you wanted to face him. he chuckles deeply at the audible disapproval, swatting your ass. “you’ll still see my face, greedy. be patient.” 

he positioned you on your knees on top of the desk facing a dusty chalkboard, spread eagle and hands pinned behind your back, almost curled up into a fetal position with your tits to your knees. satoru swallows, your pretty red hair falling angelically around your soft features as you wait for him to fuck you. his dick is throbbing in his fist he’s pumping it into, the shlick shlick noise leaving you anticipated as he uses your arousal as lube. he’s aligning the tip with your opening, teasingly rubbing the head up and down, the vein on the underside of his heavy dick throbbing. 

his other hand is keeping you pinned down at your hip, also lifting the flesh of your ass so he can slide into you. he’s pushing forward, choking on a moan the deeper he gets. you’re real tight, it being slightly difficult to push fully into you. words like ‘relax’ and ‘breathe baby’ utters painfully from satoru as he tries not to lose his shit at the sight of your pussy literally gripping his dick to pull back in after he slightly shifts back. when he’s halfway in, leaving the hand on your hip, he uses the other you lock your wrists behind your back, gyrating his hips to cock back and grind into you. 

“ooo, f-fuck,” you whimper, hands wiggling in his grasp, nails managing to scratch his arm. satoru watches the flesh of your ass bounce with every deep, slow thrust, pussy squelching. 

“see? look at the shit,” satoru comments to himself, knitting his brows together in fascination. “told ya’ it’d make it pretty,” 

“can’t see it,” you whimper, upset. 

“you can feel it, right? it’s stretchin’ that pretty girl open,” satoru moans gruffly, moving himself closer so his sharp hips hit your ass with every movement. he’s getting rougher, your skin nearly bruising from his hot touches, the bangles on your wrist clinking with each thrust. 

“i feel it,” you hiss, stomach caving in. “bet s’so pretty.”

“yeah? promise to give it a taste after?” 

“yeah,” you nod slowly, eyes tightly shut. “y-yeah. will, ‘toru.” 

“good girl.” 

gasps fill the air when he fucks you harder, balls slapping against your sticky clit as your ass recoils and claps back onto his abdomen. he’s got a deadlock on your posture, satoru’s face completely serious as he fucks you so, so rough. his sounds are animalistic compared to your own; whiny and soft. coughing out moans as you heave against the desk creating a spot of condescension. he’s so big hovering over you, bending you underneath him, papers falling off the desk while he rutted into you. skin clapping, moans synchronized, and sweat dripping. it’s the hottest fucking scene. 

“takin’ me so deep, baby. this shit feels so fuckin’ . . good, god,” satoru’s voice breaks, hitting you ass with a dirty grunt. “ungh, fuckin this pussy g’na get me in trouble.” 

“i n-need you,” you fight to break free from his grip, flipping your hair over to one side of your face as you sit up after he releases his grasp. “closer.” 

taking the initiative, you go to stand on your feet, back pressing to his chest as he clasps your throat, standing on your tiptoes to rotate and grind your ass back on his dick, stuffing you so full you feel it in your tummy.  

“that’s my girl,” satoru’s kissing your earlobe, pressing his cheek onto the side of your face as the two of you controlled your breathing together. “it’s your dick, take it. fuck that pussy how you want. i’m your fuckin’ toy.” 

“ssshit,” sucking your lips inwardly, you keep your hand on satoru’s wrist while your arm slings behind his neck to balance yourself, the ridges of veins on his dick scratching all the good, achy parts. 

“c’mon, girl, got me waitin’ too long,” without incoming, satoru spanks your thigh, hips thrusting steadily. “if you g’na fuck me, do it right.” 

you try to keep your composure, but the sultry, deep baritone of his voice directly by your ear makes your waist stutter, that warm, bubbly feeling swarming in your tummy. his mouth is back on your neck, and that activates you quick, sobbing and clapping your ass back needily. the mutual desperation to cum is at an all-time high. 

“there we go, t-there we go, girl. that’s what i wanted. s’good,” satoru’s gorgeous eyes cast white, jaw dropping as he grunts, holding your waist just to hold you, allowing you to handle it. “ungh, fuck. keep fuckin’ back.” 

the burn in your legs prolongs as you sway your hips and fuck back on him, his grip on you keeping you balanced to give you enough space to move how you want. this dick is slick with your cum, a ring of cream covering it as you cry and push all your weight back so you're feeling every inch while he's experiencing every tight clench.

“ ‘toru, i—” your words are cut off by an interrupted orgasm, cumming yet again as you greedily roll your ass back with weak cries. your legs feel staticky, almost falling down before satoru makes sure to lock his forearm around your stomach. 

“ ‘toru needs t’ cum too.” 

interlocking his right hand with yours, the two of you hold hands as he lays it on your thigh, bringing your head back to rest on his shoulder with a hand grasping your throat tight, nearly cutting your airways. he’s getting . . mad? nothing satisfies him more than to know he’s made a woman cum multiple times in one session, but when he gets as horny and fucked out as he was now? it wasn’t a good idea to leave him without one orgasm. and he can definitely give you more than just one. he wanted to show you that, you deserved that. 

satoru begins to pull his hips back, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips to let you know he still cares and will comfort you after. just needs a few minutes of shutting off that part of his brain to fuck himself dumb. your pussy clenches and pulsates sloppily on his dick as he fucks you harder than he has before, the breath knocking out of your throat while he squeezes his eyes shut and pounds assertively. they’re neither fast nor slow, just steady and rough. like he’s been needing it so damn bad. the warmth of you getting him out of character, the scent of your perfume enveloping him. the conditioner in your soft, red velvet hair. the tattoos inked into your brown skin, the piercings on your ears and face. your fogged-up glasses, courtesy to him. the unexplainable pleasure he derives off of hearing you whimper ‘toru, toru, toru’. 

who knows what kind of fucking spell you put on him. he just knows he’ll never, ever erase today from his memory. it’ll play like a tantalizing loop. tears threaten to fall from your eyes, cunt going sore from his brutal pivots, falling back weakly into his strong body and gasping from every deliciously deep, thrust. satoru kisses at your face, lashes kissing your cheekbones, trying your best to look up at him. and when you do, you can see he’s utterly gone. the groans emanating, feral growls, and pinball white eyeballs that couldn’t stop scrolling into the back of his head. you watch him mumble your name while spewing expletives, pink lips wide as his whimpers and moans break apart.

“fuck!” he bellows, moving your bodies back towards the desk as he pins you down flat and fucks your ass back onto him, that pressure tugging at him. he's pressing the side of his cheek with yours, breathing heavily while gripping your jaw and dropping his weight on your backside. “fuck, fuck. fuck.” 

“ ‘toru, please cum for me, baby. w’na taste you so bad.”

and he does, as soon as you say his goddamn name like that again, that vanilla voice of yours, seductive yet sweet, coaxing him to cum. 

“knees, baby. suck me,” satoru heaves in a high pitch.

hurriedly, you twist your body to crouch below him, palm wrapping around his dick, satoru’s hand taking strands of your hair to make a ponytail on the back of your head to bob your head to suck him, hips stuttering and his lips damn near quivering. your cheeks hollow inwards as you swallow him in your throat, satoru guiding your head as he shoots his cum hot in your mouth. you moan around him, staring up at him through your dark falsies to be rewarded with the beautiful sight of his snow white hair shielding his face, blue eyes glowing as he looks at you with a genuine laugh. 

pulling your head back, you wipe your mouth slowly with the back of your hand, satoru’s dick twitching midair, semi-hard. he holds both palms out, waiting for you to grab him so he can pull you up. you take them, and he brings your chest to his. 

“fuck, you’ve got me spent,” his hands are now on either side of your face, locking his lips with yours once more. “so damn good.” 

“mhm,” you blink with a goofy smile, pulling your shirt down and smoothing your hair. kissing his face, you wipe your lipgloss off any part of his skin. “so, same time after break?” 

© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡

[nochepsicodelica]

You and Toji are sitting at a table at a bar, talking about different things that went on throughout your days over some drinks. Toji tells you about how Shiu's been a real asshole lately, because his marriage is hanging on by a thread and he hasn't gotten laid in almost a month. He gives you a look that you interpret as him saying 'thank fuck that's not us' to which you respond with a little smirk.

When it's your turn, you tell him about how the new hire broke the copy machine, knocked over and broke the water gallon for the water dispenser, and crashed into someone, spilling hot coffee all over their shirt, all in the course of one day.

"That poor fucker's cursed," Toji says, amusement riddling his expression as he brings his glass of whiskey to his lips.

"He looked like he really needed a hug by the end of the day," you add, biting back a smile, before you take a sip of your own drink.

"Tell me you didn't," Toji says, taking in the seemingly telling look on your face. "Ma."

"I'm kidding. It's jokes, baby. I have no interest in hugging someone I haven't spoken a single word to."

Toji flicks your forehead, watching with a grin as you bring a hand up to rub the sting away. "Gotta piss, be right back, doll. Want another drink before I come back?"

"I'll wait for you to finish yours," you say, to which he nods before standing up from his seat.

"Be right back," Toji repeats, affectionately setting a heavy hand on your head, before he heads off in the direction of the restrooms.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your socials while you wait. Altogether, Toji was gone for no longer than four minutes, and yet somehow, that was enough time for a rando to pull a chair up to your little table and start a conversation with you.

"Hey," he starts. "Why are you sitting here looking all lonely?"

You turn your head to face the person with the unfamiliar voice, slightly widening your eyes as if to question if he's talking to you. He looks at you with raised eyebrows, awaiting your response. "Oh, i'm not here alone. My boyfriend is in the bathroom," you respond, with a polite smile, before returning your attention to your phone.

"Ah. What kind of man leaves a pretty thing like you by herself in a place like this?" The stranger says, in a tone that almost seems pitiful towards you.

You look at him again and attempt to keep your expression neutral. "He'll be back any second now. He's just taking a piss, i'll be fine. Unless you're here to make things troubling for me."

The man chuckles, entertained by your quick shift in tone. "With a feisty attitude like that and a pretty mouth to keep up, it seems like you want me to get you in trouble."

You furrow your eyebrows, blatantly offended by his inappropriate insinuation. It's disturbing to see how he turned your warning into something sexual.

"I already told you, I have a boyfriend. Try someone else," you respond, no longer hiding your irritation.

Toji scans the room for the table you're sitting at, locating you and who-the-fuck in three seconds. This man looks awfully cozy with you, leaning in close every time he speaks to you, so he doesn't stand around any longer and quickly makes his way back to you and this new "friend".

"You sure you don't want another drink, doll?" Toji asks, sitting down in front of you, again, his gaze darting between you and this pocket square looking man. There's a difference between your demeanor from before he left and now. You clearly aren't comfortable, anymore.

"That's it? That is your supposed boyfriend?" The man asks, attempting to minimize Toji by referring to him as if he's nothing in comparison to himself. "Oh, princess. You see this watch?" He asks, raising the cuff of his sleeve to fully reveal his golden watch. "Four thousand dollars, and that's chump change."

You look at Toji and pull his hand into your shaky one, giving him a forced smile. Toji keeps his eyes on yours as the stranger continues spewing arrogant sludge about how much money he makes a year and how even the luxury car he has parked outside didn't put the smallest dent in his wallet.

"You would have it so good with me, baby," he continues blabbering. His hand goes to your wrist, a gesture that Toji quickly puts an end to by aggressively shoving the man's hand away, your empty glass clattering on the table from the force. Toji would have snapped the man's wrist and twisted his hand off, but he didn't want to scare you with the bloodshed. He feels like he's buzzing from the anger bubbling inside, and surely it won't be long before he acts out.

"Don't fucking touch her," Toji spits, glaring at the man with an expression that would have put him six feet under, if looks could kill.

Your heartbeat is in your ears and your blood is boiling. This man is disgusting for being persistent towards someone who doesn't want him. It's masochism, at this point, with the amount of times that you've made it clear that you're not interested.

The man snorts, snobbishly. "He brought you here, of all places. Even just glancing at him, you can tell this cheap ass place is all he can afford. He'll never be able to give you everything you want, so just come with me, doll face."

You rip your hand out of Toji's grasp and stand from your chair, delivering a resounding blow to the man's already hideous face. Tables and chairs wobble as he tries to keep his balance, but when you quickly strike him again, hard enough to increase the pain you felt in your knuckles with that first hit, you manage to knock him onto the ground.

"Fuck you, you fucking asshole. You don't know shit!" You grit out, dropping down to try and land another hit to the man's bleeding face. By now, Toji is behind you, restraining your arms and pulling you back as a small crowd begins to form to observe the commotion.

"Ma, come on. Let's just go."

"Let me dent his fucking face in, Toji," you mutter, writhing in his grip.

The vile man manages to sit up, dabbing his fingertips against his busted lip. Though there is red blossoming on his face, his lips still form an amused, twisted smile. He laughs as he watches you get reeled back by Toji, seething as you are dragged away like a child having a meltdown in the middle of a store.

"Hey-- Hey, I said let's go," Toji says, his tone sharper when you continue to try to break out of his hold to fight the idiotic sociopath.

You take a deep breath and stop, willingly letting Toji take you away from this chaos you created in his defense. His hand rests on the nape of your neck, as he guides you through the stuffy bar and leads you outside to the car.

"Stop pacing," Toji says, watching as you threaten to make the asphalt beneath your feet waste away with every step you take in your heated state.

"Fucking asshole, dickhead, motherfucker." You groan, loudly, furiously, before covering your face with your hands. "It's fine, it's fine," you mumble to yourself.

"Then, stop pacing," he repeats, watching on as you walk the same steps, over and over, as if you're on autopilot. "Ma, eyes. Eyes." His hands go to your shoulders, manually forcing you to halt your movement. "Listen to me. I said eyes."

"I'm so... I can't stand still," you say, weakly.

"Stop looking around. Right here," Toji instructs, lifting one hand from your shoulder and pointing two fingers at his eyes. You release a shaky puff of air and hold his gaze as best as you can.

"Talk when you're ready," he says, following your eyes whenever they derail from his.

You aren't ready soon enough. You feel like your heart is trying to burst out of your chest and the adrenaline coursing through you isn't helping at all. Your hand hurts. Your knuckles feel bruised and they're bloody. The night might be ruined, but you felt your reaction was the only way to release the pain you felt when that nothing started talking the way he did about Toji. All you can think to do is hug Toji to prevent yourself from crying about your cause for attacking the gross man. It's all so much. You've never felt so strongly for someone, to the point where you hit a stranger for insulting them. It's scary how Toji brings that defensive, yet, offensive side out of you.

Strong, heavy arms reciprocate your embrace, keeping your tense body close. You feel warm and safe, his scent and the pressure of his hold managing to slowly calm your unsteady heartbeat. After a few seconds of quietness, you turn your head and rest the side of your face on him, finally prepared to speak.

"I didn't like how he was talking about you, Toji. He was talking shit even before you came back, and I hated it. I hated it so much, that I felt nauseous and if I hadn't done something, I would have been sick."

Toji sighs, not out of disappointment or feelings of that sort, but because you seeking out danger for his sake, was not something he ever wanted to see.

"Doll, you know how much I love you."

This sounds like a layer of sugar preceding a talking to. You're trying not to be nervous before the scolding even begins, but you feel the need to brace yourself, as well.

"I love you, too," you mumble.

Toji knows it. He's known it all along, and the events that transpired tonight were just another way of you proving your love and showing how much he matters to you.

"Want you to look at me," he says, lowering his arms on your back, allowing you to make the space necessary to give him your attention. He offers you a soft smile. "Don't get all fidgety on me after you just ripped a stranger's face open."

"I feel like you're about to yell at me," you say, lowly.

That makes him want to laugh, but he keeps his amusement to a minimum, since you're clearly anticipating something terrible.

"Nah. When have I ever raised my voice at you?"

"Never."

"Exactly. Never, and I won't start now, but I want you to get this through your pretty head... It's not your job to beat people up for me."

"I know, but-"

Toji shakes his head. "Hold on, mama. Let me finish talking, then it'll be your turn."

Your heart feels like it's in the depths of your stomach, but you nod, and allow him to continue talking.

"I'm not mad at you, i'm not gonna yell at you. Just wanna keep you safe, is all. That guy was already a fuckin' weirdo, harassing you like that and trying to get you to go with him while I was right there. I wouldn't be surprised if he was into hitting women, too, if he's so comfortable with making them uncomfortable."

It's quiet while you think of what to say. You don't want this to escalate into something that turns you against each other, when it started out as an act of love. You could argue about how you did this to defend him, but in the end, you know his own need to protect you, will stomp all over your arguments.

"I'm sorry we had to leave, but i'm not sorry for the reason behind it. I don't regret what I did."

"Ma..."

"No, Toji. He didn't even know you and yet he still said things that aren't fair." Your voice quiets down, the beginnings of stronger emotions threatening to outwardly reveal themselves. "He insulted you. He questioned your abilities as my boyfriend when he saw me alone— even after I told him you just went to the bathroom. He judged you superficially, he said you can't give me everything I want and--" you pause, interrupted by a shaky inhale and the painful lump in your throat. "Sorry," you mumble, when the first set of tears roll down your cheeks.

"No, you're alright," Toji says, in response, his warm hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your fleeing tears. There's a small pinch in his brows. Why are you crying? It's something he can't ask you, because he knows that if he makes a big spectacle out of it, you'll end up drowning in your tears and shutting down everything you have to say. He resorts to keeping your cheeks dry and encouraging you to keep talking.

"Go on, mama."

You sniff, before picking up where you left off. "I don't care about all that, Toji. I don't care where we go to spend time together, because we're together. I need you, not for you to buy me things or take me to fancy places. That's not what I'm with you for."

Your heart is beating fast, again, its rhythm no longer controlled by fear or nerves, but instead the focus that Toji has on you. He's good at holding eye contact with you, something that occasionally gets distracting if you become too aware of it. You notice that his expression is softer. Maybe it's your brief flash of tears or the way you are always subconsciously finding a way to indirectly recite some of the reasons for why you love him.

"I love you, Toji. That means I won't just sit around and let someone talk about you like you're worthless. And I know, I know you can handle things like this on your own and you don't need me, but it was hard to listen to that."

You pause, as if to give him a break from your bulldozing heart. Silence takes over the moment, both of you just looking at each other. Toji's speechlessness has you wondering if you spilled too much of your heart out to him. You know some things are better left to be figured out, such as the range of a person's love, and yet you just poured without measure. "You can call me crazy if you want to."

Toji's shit-eating grin is unexpected, but it's definitely a sight that lifts some of the heaviness you feel in your chest.

"You love me," Toji says, still smiling like a doofus. He knows your serious facade will crack if he looks at you like this for long enough. He can already see a shift in the expression of your eyes and the way your lips are pressing together just a little more. He tilts his head slightly, a gesture that pushes you even further towards that pretty smile he wants to see. When you finally crack and give into his charm, you do so with a mutter of 'you're so dumb.'

"I'm glad that's what you got out of my rambling," you say, wholeheartedly and in better spirits. Toji pulls you in, this time, his soothing warmth and familiar scent tangling around you, again. His chin rests on top of your head and his arms secure themselves around you, tightly.

"I'm not gonna call you crazy, ma. It's not what I think. Also, don't go saying things that aren't true. I do need you," Toji says, his voice level kept at an intimate volume, as if there are other people there in the parking lot with you. His words are solely meant for you to hear anyway and getting them to you in this manner ensures that you won't go home with your heart feeling heavy, after a talk that was meant to comfort you.

"You know, I don't care what other people think— and that's not to say I don't appreciate you throwing a few punches for my sake. You're a sweetheart and you care so much, but if it's a stranger saying some unimportant, dumb shit, it takes a lot for it to actually get to me. If it really bothered me, they'd be gone."

"Yeah... I know," you mumble, into his shirt, knowing you would do it again and again— countless times. You loosen your arms around Toji and he does the same, his hands dragging towards your waist after you separate.

"How's that hand?" Toji asks, picking your wrist up before you can even respond. He whistles at the sight of the slight swelling and the dry specks of crimson spotted over your knuckles.

"A little tender," you say, feeling a tinge of fear when his other hand lifts off your waist to feel the damage.

"Looks real good on your pretty hand," he says, dragging his index finger over the protruding bones of your hand.

"Does it?" You ask, your barely there smile falling when you wince at the little bit of pressure Toji applies.

"No," he responds, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the sore area. You wince again when his thumb drags over your skin with slightly more pressure than before. "It doesn't. We'll ice it when we get home, alright?" He lets up on the torturous touching, but keeps your hand in his. The words aren't meant to hurt you. He doesn't mean them and he hopes he communicates that with the way he still opts to hold your hand. Your hands will always be pretty to him, he just can't say that to you, right now. Not if it serves as the smallest bit of encouragement for you to repeat what happened earlier, in the future.

"Okay." You nod.

"Gimme a kiss and we can go home or wherever, if you wanna stay out."

You tilt your head up and wait for his lips to meet yours. It's a gentle brush of lips, but the second Toji's hands start slipping under the back of your sweater and your shirt, you know it's going to be more than a single kiss. You can feel the night's cold wind nipping at your skin, as his hands go higher up, his fingertips reaching just below the hooks of your bra. To your surprise, he unhooks the garment, causing you to quickly press your hands to your chest when the cups loosen, to prevent them from fully sliding down.

"Toji," you manage to utter out during the wave of kisses. You turn your head, receiving a kiss that was meant for your lips, on your cheek.

"Yeah... I think we should go home," he murmurs, against your skin. "Maybe we can rock the car a little bit before we go, hm?" Toji smirks when you let out that flustered giggle he's so familiar with. He presses another kiss to your cheek before you turn to face him, again.

"Okay, but let's not blow it all here. We have a nice and comfortable bed at home. Let's add another good night to it."

You don't miss the way Toji's lustfully lidded, green eyes, keep glancing down at your hands on your chest, or how he's mindlessly caressing your bare waist, under your shirt.

"Alright, ma." He pulls out his car keys and with the press of a button, the car unlocks with a beep and the brief, dull sound of flipping locks. "Get inside."

[teddybeartoji]

zombie apocalypse au where you end up in a settlement and meet a cutiepie satoru. he's lived almost his entire life there – sure, he goes on runs every once in a while but you've been out there. it's different.

right?

the dark bags under your eyes have yet to fade but satoru has never heard you complain. he knows everybody gets a talk when they first come to this place; where they can get help, who they can talk to when if they have any problems. if you can't sleep. or eat. or if you still feel restless. it's understandable that the change from having to fight for your life on a daily basis to not even having to carry a gun with you is hard.

the food tastes weird when you're not starving and drinking water seems like a complete waste when you're not dying of thirst. the bed you sleep on is too soft, the sheets feel like silk and it makes your skin itch. it's off-putting.

and yet, not a single complaint has left your lips. you observe your surroundings while handing out pretty little smiles like they're candy. you say thank you and goodbye, you offer to help out with the chores that weren't even yours to begin with and you're willing to entertain the kids with silly jokes. it's an almost perfect mask.

but you're tense; your eyes are always scanning your environment despite the fact that you've been at the settlement for almost a week now. you stretch your lips to show your gratitude, but satoru sees the way your fist tightens whenever the room is too crowded. the way you pocket smaller snacks when you think that nobody is looking. the way you flinch at a faraway sound of a child's laugh.

satoru finds you utterly intriguing.

people come and go, but you... there's something different about you.

maybe it's the dark, murky look in your eyes whenever you're handling a knife. carving a piece of meat like it's something you do every day; your eyes are the only things that change – you give a small smile to the lady working next to you as a thank you for whatever kind of advice she just gave you. she pats the steak while laughing and satoru doesn't miss the way your lips twitch.

you lick the remnants of the meat that stick to your fingers, the liquid that dribbles down the side of your hand the second she turns around. and satoru can't look away.

but there's no obvious malice.

it's interesting.

satoru is no detective, but he's done his fair share of people looking. what else is there to do when you're locked behind big walls; people are interesting, especially now that the world has ended. they tick faster, they explode bigger. they shiver more, they cry more. the lies have more consequences. it's hard to trust others, it's hard to trust anybody at this point. but satoru's eyes are keen, more so than anyone else's there.

you're not some caged beast, you're no dog on a leash, but you're an animal nonetheless. satoru just doesn't know which one yet. which of the living things that reside in the woods is calm enough to get so close to other people? confident enough. arrogant enough.

which one of them is as curious as you are? as sly? which one of them knows how to hide their sharp teeth behind a warm smile? satoru promises to himself that he'll figure it out, no matter what it takes.

or maybe the 'something' is the way you handle yourself when things go south. you didn't look away when a walker that managed to slip in through the gates sank his teeth into a man's neck. when everybody else was in shock, their eyes set on the gory sight in front of them – you were the first to grab the closest thing resembling a weapon and to deal with it.

blood splattered all over your clean clothes, your hair, your face. but you paid it no mind. this is what you're used to, this is what's normal. taking a knife to the poor wailing man laying on the ground was nothing special either. you kneeled down beside him and looked him in the eyes as you did it.

desperate hands reached out for you as fear settled in his stomach. he grabbed onto the collar of your shirt and pulled you closer, pleas stumbling from his lips like a waterfall. but to you, he was dead already. there's no remorse, there's no guilt. you're not a killer, you're a survivor.

satoru's mind raced as he watched you work while all the other had turned away, their sobs barely reaching his ears. no remorse, no guilt.

he just thought the blood looked beautiful on you.

but you're keen, too.

you try not to pay him too much attention, you try not to look but you feel his curious eyes wherever you go. you hear him laugh and you see his big smiles. he likes to play with the kids and he likes to tease his peers. he seems to know just about everybody, mingling in their lives by acting like a cupid or just indulging in gossip like some high schooler.

but something rotten sprouts deep inside him as well.

there's blood on his hands and you know it the second your gazes meet from across the big dining hall. the corners of his eyes crinkle and his dimples make a show as he gives you a grin, sharp teeth shining right at you. he knows you and you know him.

a survivor always recognizes a survivor.

[artdolliewishes]

Imagine female Yuu having to cross dress to avoid unnecessary trouble at NRC and Idia finds out through Ortho. Because I can see Ortho finding out if Yuu ever got a minor injury and he was around to play nurse, knowing him he’d do a quick full body scan and find a very high amount of estrogen in her system.

And he blabs to Idia because he’s a snitch who doesn’t keep anything from his brother; if you tell a secret to him, you’re basically telling it to them.

Once Idia finds out, his mind INSTANTLY goes to those otome games and fanfics and gacha life videos about a girl in all boys school. He always thought those were just fun fantasies, but upon seeing that exact scenario happening in real life he becomes curious.

Prior to this, Idia probably wouldn’t think much about Yuu. To him, she was just the odd magicless guy his brother would occasionally run into; the most interesting thing about her was her cat, in his eyes. But now that he knows about her secret, he becomes heavily invested in her school life, he wants to see how this is going to turn out.

He doesn’t exactly stalk Yuu, it’s not like he’s putting cameras in Ramshackle or listening devices in her bag, it’s more like he just pays extra close attention to her when he has the chance, such as during joint classes and lunch. And since Ortho and her are on amicable terms, he encourages Ortho to spill any gossip he learns when around her.

To Idia’s surprise and delight, things end up matching up almost perfectly with what he’s come to expect from these kinds of plots. The ones close to Yuu, who seem to be privy to her secret from what he’s gathered, are all either falling in love or have already been in love. They’re extra protective of her, they’re affectionate and soft with her, and they get jealous when she gives too much of her attention to any one of them.

Idia knows about the overblot incidents, so of course he’d see the pattern in who starts getting closer. Every time someone overblots, Yuu will be there to help and both the overblotter and some other select people in their dorm will begin to fall. It’s a classic pattern.

At this point, Idia would simply see himself as an observer peeking in on this story and, therefore, he can’t be affected by Yuu. He’s not a love target in her story, he’s a side character.

It doesn’t matter that he’s occasionally run in with Yuu and each time he has she’s been a true friend to an introvert like him by making his anxious ass feel comfortable. It doesn’t matter because he’s aware of what’s happening and thus he can’t be affected.

But then he also overblots, and just like before she was there to help pick up the pieces. After that they ended up talking and Idia gets to know more about Yuu, more than he could learn by just observing.

Before long, he’s actually looking forward to seeing her again, to nerding out about his favorite anime’s with her in person because she’s always such a good listener. He’s looking at his manga and game collections and thinking about what she would like.

Idia doesn’t even realize his hearts been skipping beats when she’s around until one day when he’s in class and she walks in. Like a dog hearing their owner walk through the front door, his gaze shoots up and instantly that class gets fifty times more bearable with her around.

…And then he looks around and every other “main character” has had the same reaction.

Which means that he’s also a captured love target, just like them…

Oh how the turn tables for a dating sim loving nerd like himself