#really facing his inner self

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[gloopdimension]

rly like pondering the stages of orion.

[lovegasmic]

‎‎‎‎ㅤTWENTY FOUR SEVEN

satoru gojo, sukuna ryomen, toji fushiguro, choso kamo + fem!reader.

ᯓ★ mdni. somno ( they wake you up with their dicks ), "just the tip" gojo shouldn't be trusted. oral male receiving, facefucking w toji. creampie w choso. repost.

SATORU .ᐟ

to gojo satoru nothing is more of a blessing than waking up with your soft ass pressed against his hard cock. much more if your sleepy self allows him to slip the fat dribbling tip inside your slick walls, you're so wet and warm he fuckin' hopes you had some nasty dream with him as the main character.

"just the tip baby... i promise!" he whines and your body and brain fight, ending in your thighs spreading unconsciously for his long legs to take place in between them, an arm snaking from below your side to hold onto your pelvis, moving your sleeping shorts aside to properly slip inside, it's just an inch but Satoru's already panting like it hurts.

"s' so fuckin' good" he groans, hips rolling against your ass while his hands press you back, fucking himself inside your tight cunt until he's balls deep, "can't stop baby, m' sorry" a choked out moan and a string of unintelligible praises fall on your ear where his chin rests, moving inside you at an incredible speed while his hands cup and play with your tits. groaning from the bottom of his throat when you clench and slick coates your inner thighs, creating a lewd squelch that makes nothing but get Satoru to cum all across your pretty puffy folds.

SUKUNA .ᐟ

mornings are always a mess.

too loud and full of honking cars that fill the busy street right next to your windows, and Sukuna hates it. not because of how uncomfortably loud it is, but because of how he is not completely able to hear your pretty desperate moans.

he doesn't care if the neighbors knock on your door at the dead of night because of how loud your screams are, he adores them, adores the subtle twitch of your thighs whenever his cock pushes past the tight ring of muscles that flutter wildly in a signal of your approaching orgasm, adores the way your knuckles turn white from holding onto the sheets for dear life, pillow soaked in tears from where you're hiding your pleas.

"look at me" Sukuna grunts, cupping your cheek from behind to force your face a side, claiming your lips while swallowing moans of desperation, full of teeth and saliva and equally messy of his pounding into your cunt.

TOJI .ᐟ

heavy and slightly salty flavor is what you wake up to most mornings, Toji's cockhead sliding across your lolled out tongue in a teasing manner as he squishes your cheeks.

"g'morning, princess" he smirks, hair falling on his eyes from where he's hunched, thighs on each side of your chest while he feeds you his cock. and you take it, feeling the wetness between your legs grow at the sight the man on top of you is, deciding to press your hands on his toned abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your fingers as his hips start to move.

you feel like a fucking toy under him, just taking it like the good girl toji loves to repeat you are, "touch yourself, baby, I know you're wet just from sucking cock" he smirks, teasingly and you know it's not a suggestion, but a command for the hand that isn't digging on the skin of his thigh to slide down until your fingertips touch your needy clit, rubbing on it with the limited movements you can archive due to the man straddling your chest, "good girl" Toji groans when you moan, not minding if you actually get off from sucking him but at least you can moan and drool cutely all over his cock.

CHOSO .ᐟ

"feels so good" Choso pants, holding onto your hips with such strength you're certain he'll leave a mark. he's desperate and wildly rutting into your cunt as if to fuck you as deep as humanly possible.

you really wish you could watch the pretty expression on his face, but getting caught off guard while doing breakfast, and Choso's quickly pushing off your pants down enough to slide the flushed tip of his cock into your pussy didn't give much more option than holding onto the kitchen counter for dear life.

"fuckin' perfect" he moans and sobs, hips increasing in speed until his balls slam loudly and wetly against your clit, not giving a signal of stopping soon, but how could he, when you clench so deliciously, gripping onto his cock as if you never wish for him to stop fucking you, "fuck...!" he gasps, curling against your back while continuously switching between pounding and grinding on your pussy, "wanna feel you cum around me" his thighs shake and balls clench, seconds away from staining your walls until you scream and cream all over his length.

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Super happy, puppy dog yandere boyfriend that’s happy to have sex with you for the first time

afab reader ; nsfw

You look so beautiful in bed, all dolled up and pretty just for him! And only for him! He’s so excited that his pants feel way too restrictive, and if he had a tail you bet it’d be wagging a mile a minute. 

He looks at your soft curves, your bashful, oh-so-cute-eyes, and the rosiness of your adorable cheeks with so much love. Because he loves you. And he really REALLY means it. And wants to show you how he really feels tonight. He was so happy that you’d agreed to go all the way with him. 

When he undresses and leans over your body, hands squeezing your hips and inner thigh, you feel him trembling with anticipation. You giggle at the sight, and he swears your voice is like an angel from above singing holy scripture into his ears. 

You unclasp your bra, throwing it to the side of the room. He imagines smothering his face between your tits until you slowly peel your laced panties out from under you, revealing a perfectly pink pussy that has him practically drooling, all sense of self restraint bursting at the seams.

He’s all over you before you can even say a word, face between your legs, boyish hands keeping a vice like grip on your thighs to keep you open as he laps and laps away until he’s satisfied. Which in the moment, he thinks he’ll never be with how good you taste. His drool gets everywhere, coating your already wet cunt with his own juices. He apologizes for the mess and eagerly goes to clean it up with his tongue, sucking on your mound like a dog gobbling over a chew toy. 

Did he already say your voice sounds like an angel? Because your moans are so immaculate he can just listen to you say his name and ONLY his name all damn day. Just you and him. Together forever and ever and ever and ever —

The thought of spending eternity with you puts him over the edge, and he practically whines for you to let him put his cock inside. 

“Please, baby? I promise I’ll make you feel good. I promise! I wanna feel you so bad. I can’t take it anymore.”

You find his begging cute, but would be a cruel woman to tell him no when he’s staring at you with such puppy-love, lust ridden eyes. When you say yes, he’s over the moon, already covering your body with sloppy kisses and thank yous, muttering promises of how he’ll make you feel oh so full, oh so good, and that he’ll take care of you forever. 

He knows you’re not a virgin but he doesn’t care. He would have loved to be your first but that doesn’t matter now, the only thing that matters is making you his right this moment and making it to where you’ll never want another man ever again, just him. 

When his cock plunges into you he moans just as loud as you, if not more. You feel his heart pounding like crazy and reach to kiss him, sending him into a frenzy of ‘I love you’s and ‘Mine, mine, MINE’. He latches onto your tits like they’re a lifeline, feeling so high with adrenaline that he almost zones out and ignores your moans. Uh-oh, can’t do that! He wants to hear every noise you’ll make for him tonight. 

He’s fucking you so fast and so good you can barely think straight, and your fucked out expression just sends him over the moon. He squeals at your adorable face and holds you tighter, biting into your neck and laughing when you gasp at his actions. He hasn’t bothered counting how many times you’ve come. He just knows it’s been more than three. 

You ask him to take you from behind, doggystyle, and he happily obliges. He fucks you deep, slamming into you as hard as he can, gripping your ass and giving one cheek a nice smack. With a pull of your hair, he’s got you on both knees pressed flush against his body. He gives you another hickey on your neck, but not before another bite. 

“Oh you’re doing so good for me baby. Just like that! Yeah. Go ahead and cum for me.” He encourages. 

Boy, does he want to come inside you so bad, make you his and mark you, but he knows how you feel about that and opts to come outside instead, all over your perfect ass. 

When he finishes, he flops into bed next to you and holds you tight, looking at you with concerned but hopeful eyes. 

“How was that?? Was it good? You won’t leave me know will you? I know I liked it, but did you? We can go another round if you want. I wanna make you—“

You hush him with a reassuring kiss on the lips. 

[reidrum]

you say ‘what a mind’ | s.r.

A/N: she’s back and with fluff! (?) exams were really putting me through the ringer but i missed posting so i fixed up this draft i had, i hope you enjoy :D ive been listening to sabrina 25/8 since she dropped so hopefully song inspired fics coming soon 🤞🏽

summary: you get really excited about something new you learned and spencer gets really excited about you

wc: a short n sweet 1k

cw: none, tooth rotting fluff

_______________________________________________

With Spencer's extensive knowledge of just about everything, you had assumed that there wasn’t much you contribute to his abundant learning.

You maybe weren’t three-PhD’s smart, but you were smart, averagely speaking. But you knew Spencer was smart, and truth be told it intimidated you. He never made you feel bad about not knowing something, ever. Anytime he gets to talk to you about anything his face lights up like the night sky.

There was, however, one time you had come home all excited to explain a concept from class that finally clicked for you. And the first person you wanted to tell was Spencer.

He watched you bound up to him with a spring in your step, bright eyed and wide cheeks as you told him, “I have to tell you about what I learned about today, it finally made sense to me. Like it felt like a real life light bulb final puzzle piece fitting type moment!”

He smiled warmly down at your eager face, “Alright angel, lay it on me.”

“Okay, I know it’s a little stupid it’s taken me this long to get it, but it’s—“

The call of your name sternly yet fondly falling from Spencer’s lips interrupts your self deprecating preamble, “Hey, we don’t do that, remember? We talked about this.”

Your rants almost always started with some self deprecating remarks, and he would always frown and try to interject and shut them down, to which you’d wave him off under the guise of, “If I stop, I’ll forget!” You were smart, but stubborn to a fault. He loved you for it, but it was hard for him to see you not understand the value you held, the value that your voice and your words and your opinions held. The value that he knew with all certainty you possessed.

A sheepish blush rises on your cheeks as you mumble, “Sorry.”

His fingers trickle closer to yours and wrap around them firmly, bringing you to sit on the couch next to him as he pulls your legs over to rest on his.

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” he says saccharinely, “We’re working on being nicer to ourselves right?”

You nod, he smiles softly back at you and continues, “Okay, tell me what you learned today.”

You start on your long explanation of the inner workings of the nervous system and its intricacies, explaining details and anecdotes that really showcase the inner workings of how your mind processes information.

Spencer can’t help but stare at you in deep fascination, complete with an awestruck smile and glimmering eyes.

He’s met hundreds of scientists, specialists, celebrities even, and listen to them talk about their research in extensive detail and with expansive knowledge. Hell, he’s had to do it himself with his three doctorates.

But as he sits in front of you, watching the person he’s most fond of on this planet watch you talk with so much speed, conviction, passion, with your hands move with purpose and excitement, he truly swears he has never been more in love with you than that moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask cautiously.

“You,” he moves closer, “Are so intelligent, did you know that?”

“Spencer, I’m not in the mood for jokes plea—“

“No, my love. You are brilliant,” he moves closer to be an inch away from you, placing his hands on your cheeks, “The way you process information is fascinating. When I watch you explain things to me I can see you organize it in your pretty head. It is actually mesmerizing watching you absorb knowledge the way you do. You’re like, a beautiful puzzle all undone, but by the forces of nature you’re able to put yourself together and bear the finished product to me, to anyone.”

Your eyes tear up, “Spence…what the fuck.”

He chuckles softly, “I mean it,” he holds you firmly, planting you in the roots of his belief, “What a mind you have, darling.”

It’s enough to make you tuck your head into his chest, obstructing his view from your imminent tearfall.

“You can’t just say things like that.” you mumble against the soft fabric of his shirt.

Spencer instinctively wraps his arm around your torso, letting the other hand take purchase in your hair, gently stroking it down, “Why not?” He speaks softly.

“Because…I might think you're like, in love with me or something.” You joke.

His laugh rumbles through his chest and into your rested head, “Would that be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s going to be another whole moon cycle before I have another a-ha moment like this again. I’ll have nothing to impress you with.”

Spencer smiles and sighs, squeezing you tighter against him, “You always impress me.”

You groan, “Ugh, you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“You do know that you’re really smart, right?” you open your mouth to argue but he cuts you off, “You always underestimate yourself, but you’re really one of the smartest people I know. And I know a lot of smart people.”

A deep sigh leaves you, but he continues, “And you don’t have to believe me. I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. You and your brain are remarkable, so when you come to me with your a-ha moments thinking I’ll be impressed with your spark of knowledge, just know that I am impressed with you, but it’s more because I get to see you realize just how capable you are yourself.”

The calming motion of his fingers through your hair tether you back to this world, your insides fluttering about like butterflies in an open field. It was hard not to believe his words when Spencer was always so kind to you. It was always so easy for you to play it off like you didn’t deserve it.

But Spencer knew wholeheartedly that you did deserve it, that you were even entitled to it. And he’d spend the rest of his life reminding you. That, you knew for a fact.

“I love you,” you say softly, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me angel, I love you too.” He mumbles in your head, his hand trailing down your sides in comfort.

[onthecrescentofthehill]

it’s funny when ppl talk about the harpy omelet scene and say things like “why did he do all of that? he didn’t need to. JUST doing that for laios???” (seen these nearly verbatim on posts i’ve made.)

i don’t really get how you can hear his backstory & not understand that every decision he makes within the dungeon is fueled by a profound trauma borne out of horrific, structural negligence. of course he would do fucking anything to enact his plan? if he computes “getting in laios’s favor = proxy control of the dungeon” and he has very limited time to do so, he will jump at the chance. he’s already DIED for this.

kabru has maybe the clearest possible motivation that a character can have. he has a Protagonists Motivation, and it guides him forward in a very coherent way in the beginning of the story. things get more complicated in later acts that directly address how that motivation manifests itself/gets contradicted, bc ryoko kui is great at exploring this, but it’s still extremely present.

and as a labru fan i strongly dislike the implication i see from some ppl that his interest in laios is mostly personal or romantic (posts that range from pure joke to actual ship meta.) even when taking the “confession” at face value, where i think he was telling the truth, there’s still a lot more to it than that. i think at first kabru does see laios as a means to an end in a way that’s impersonal, partly because he tends to keep everyone in his life at arms length. but that “end” (preventing history from repeating itself) is something foundational to his psyche, and we should consider that potential sense of safety getting mixed in with his warring fascination/apprehension towards laios. he’s drawn to him for visceral reasons, and his stated motivations are so intertwined with his sense of self that untangling this push-pull is much more interesting than boilerplate Yearning, to me.

it’s just confusing when any meta or basic discussion of kabru diminishes the weight utaya has on his inner world and i’m really surprised every time i see it? like i understand that different types of meta will put other lenses on things intentionally, and in most cases i think it’s an interesting tool to work with. but it’s a massive disservice to his character to put the most foundational experience of his life on the back burner ESPECIALLY when it’s in favor of shipping. dissecting character relationships, romantic or otherwise, is at its best when you have their full personhood in mind!!

[gumiluver]

YOU BULLY! ~ JJK NSFW SCENARIOS

synopsis: they just can’t help but bully such a sweet thing like you <3

cover pic credit: @/tyler19844 on pinterest | border credit: @/cafekitsune

luvers <3: afab!reader, gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, zen’in/fushiguro toji, ryomen sukuna

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18, minors please do not interact (you will be blocked!) | wc: 4.7k

cw: toxic relationships, p in v sex, pussy smacking (satoru), dacryphilia (satoru, kento) , overstimulation (satoru), edging (satoru), pet names (all luvers <3), slight exhibitionism (suguru), gaslighting (suguru), spanking (kento), power imbalance (kento), size kink (kento, toji), manhandling (kento, toji, sukuna), daddy kink (kento), blowjob (toji), facefucking (toji), brat taming (toji, sukuna), mean toji :(, cervix fucking (sukuna), double dicked ‘kuna <3

A/N: I went crazy with toru & toji #sorrynotsorry :3

SATORU G. -> THE TEASE 🖤

To tease or to torture? For Satoru, there’s no in between. There can be bliss in being teased to a point of torture, and Satoru loves to see you tumble and fall into a pit of uncharted euphoria that has you ready to start crying from pleasure.

A sly sadist in reality, especially when it comes to a pretty little thing like you who saunters and sways around him so delicately, so tantalizingly, basically begging to be touched and bruised by the all-seeing sorcerer.

But when you cry so sweetly for him to ease up, to stop teasing you, to just fuck your brain stupid, he can’t help but tease you just a bit more to drive you to the brink of insanity.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet?” Satoru snickers, pride lacing his words as he stares down at your drooling pussy that’s just crying for him. He trails his fingers slowly towards your inner thighs, watching you shiver with anticipation and need.

You’re huffing in frustration, feebly bucking your hips upwards to make Satoru touch you harder, firmer. If you could, you’d shove his stupidly big hand out of the way so you could hop on his dick and fucking finish the job, but it seemed tonight would not play into your favor.

Your clit was throbbing, borderline aching with want and need, and if you didn’t get it soon you swear you were gonna start—

“Aww—you cryin’ now, sweet girl? Heh, needy little thing aren’t ya,” he chuckles, a condescending smile gracing his face as he gives your pussy a small smack—earning Satoru a pretty squeal from your throat that had your eyes squeezing shut.

He won’t lie, he does feel a tad bit bad when he sees your eyes and nose scrunched up like that. A twinge undeniably forming in his chest, but the twinge in his cock made all that sympathy go out the window. It made him want to smack it again, and again, and again.

He dances his fingers along your pussy, rubbing slow, circular motions to soothe your mound and make you hum in appreciation. His hand becoming more and more slicked from your essence, and fuck—he really couldn’t help himself now.

“Like fuckin’ music to my ears baby,” he growls, giving your pussy three more smacks, effectively making those fat princess tears fall down your cheeks as you grace him with a cry of his name so delicious that it fucking poisons him with thoughts of consuming you.

He brings the hand that smacked your pussy up towards his nose, and you can hear him heave a sigh—no, a growl—that could only be described as primal. Your scent alone has him throwing his head back and fisting his cock in his hand; ooohhh no, it’s far too late for him to return to his playfully pleasant self now—you’re fucked.

He grips the base of his shaft tightly while lining his cock up with your entrance, but instead of sheathing inside you fully he only dips his tip in and stills—fucking. stills.

The annoyed groan that slips past your lips couldn’t be helped really. Before you could scold him, you see (and hear) him suck his hand clean of your cum.

Groaning deeply from the taste, he gets lost in the divinity of you and inadvertently thrusts his tip inside you further, making you choke out a cry as he closes his eyes to revel in this beautiful fucking bliss.

“js’ fuckin’ put it in, ‘toru” you snap, panting and huffing at him out of sheer frustration. You were losing it, getting so fed up from his senseless torture that you start debating on finishing the job yourself—again.

He was too pussydrunk—forgoing the moment to forever basque in your cunt. You just needed to slide a hand down there so you could pamper your neglected clit but surely enough, your plans become thwarted by the very person inflicting your demise—again.

“If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning—,” he questions, quickly reaching for your sneaky hands and pins them above your head with a single one of his.

“—why are you so wet—” he continues, trailing his other hand down the crevices of your body, paying special attention to your most delicate areas. To make sure you were paying attention to him, he hovers his hand over your pussy again as if he were to spank it, not even caring if his dick would get caught in the crossfire.

“—and why aren’t you pushing me away, hm?” he punctuates his argument with a sudden and firm thrust of his cock, fully sheathing you so far down his shaft that you can fucking *taste* him. You’re seeing white, instantly arching into Satoru’s touch, screaming out a cacophony of different versions of his name. All prior thoughts leave your mind at the sudden intrusion, finally feeling some semblance of friction to push you closer to the edge.

And, yet again, he stills.

He grins wickedly, wanting to see what your next actions are. He sees the gears in your head are shifting and quickly rests his other hand on your tummy, effectively immobilizing you to him. Gojo didn’t have to look at you to know that you were about to lose it. What’s one more push hm?

“Do you think you deserve my cock?” he says, but the long and drawn out whimper that leaves your lips was enough to tell him you’re about to tumble forward and give in to him. The fat tears falling down your cherry cheeks, drool smeared across your face, the small little grunts and stifled moans you give whenever you try and move your hips to feel more of his cock, everything about you told Satoru how much you wanted him.

But he wanted to hear you say it, and he wasn’t moving until he gets his way.

“C’mon sweet girl, tell me—do you deserve it?”

SUGURU G. -> THE MANIPULATOR 🖤

Suguru loves an easy target, and it’s even better knowing how sweet this particular target can be—if he sets the pace right.

He makes it seem as if it were your fault that you were in this predicament. Who falls for these sorts of stints anyways? It’s like you wanted him to take control of you and make you his little plaything.

It was simple enough to get you cornered, noticing your pretty face in the halls and asking you for a helping hand, lowering those charming eyes to meet your nervous ones.

And while he never seemed like a threat towards his followers who were always so enamored by his handsome features, they were oblivious to the way his eyes held a dangerous desire for something more.

“I know you think about me at night, little one,” suguru states, nonchalantly discarding his long robes and placing them on the coat rack next to his armseat. The halls are quiet, his followers nowhere in sight as the morning sun starts to rise. They were sure to come soon though—they always do.

“I—what? I-I’m sorry?” You’re shocked, completely caught off guard from the suddenly intrusive question.

“I know you heard me well little one, don’t make me repeat it,” he chastises, eyes lowering coolly to reinforce his power and authority. “After all, why else would you be here? Roaming around the halls at such an hour—so eager to help get me settled in, isn’t it?”

“Huh?? N-no!! Geto—sir, it’s not really like tha-“

“Oh? Is that so?” he’s quick to interrupt you, taunting over your lack of confidence in your own response. You stammer, choking up on your own words. Truthfully, you couldn’t come up with a reason as to your promptness—rough night of sleep? First day jitters?

Who cares—your decision to show up early has landed you here, in this predicament, facing the man you decided to join and lend your services to. He paid well, offered a high per diem rate, and he was well loved. Barely any jujutsu sorcerer outside of Japan had poor responses towards Suguru—at least the ones you’ve heard back from—so what else were you to expect?

“Are you saying—,” he starts, grabbing your hips roughly and pulling you down with him to sit on his lap, his body resting against his classic armseat that oversees his followers. Your back pushed up tightly against his strong chest with firm hands stripping you of your shirt, “—you didn’t want to see me as much as them? ”

As if on queue, shuffles of footsteps can be heard grace the temple walls, eager chatting spread like wildfire that gathered outside the doors of Suguru’s common area—right where the two of you were.

Your heart stills, eyes widening as you try to shuffle out of his hold, but his grip is firm—like steel plates against your lap and hips. Sneaky fingers linger along the band of your bra and swiftly unclasps it, stripping you of it and throwing it aside. A small shriek escapes your lips, but you’re quick to cover your mouth to conceal your noises—wouldn’t want anyone catching the two of you now, or would you?

“Shhh now, I’ll give you what you want. Try to stay quiet, understand?” he whispers, licking the shell of your ear as a hand comes up to grope your breast while the other moves down to your skirt, bunching it up to your waist, revealing your pretty panties to him. A slow, steady trace from hig calloused finger against your clothed cunny has you silently sobbing, quiet little shrills of pleasure escape past your mouth and through your hand, and all it does is rile him up even more, pushing you deeper into his web of lascivious madness, “behave—don’t make me gag you.”

You shiver, squeezing your eyes shut and grounding yourself back to sanity by reaching around your head and gripping his hair. A soft groan now comes out from suguru, and he takes your newfound boldness as an opportunity to dip his finger into your depths and tests the waters—and fuck did it feel like fucking heaven.

He was touching literal heaven, flustered beyond belief at how simply sinking you down on his fingers has him feeling like he’s going to fucking burst. The sheer feeling of your tight walls constricting around the girth of his fingers has him bucking his hips up in agony, dreaming—yearning for the feel of your pretty princess cunny wrapped around his hard shaft. He trails his opposite hand along the side of your body, molding his grip to your curve as he molds your pussy to his fingers.

“I would’ve wanted to fuck you from behind, but then I wouldn’t get to see those pretty eyes of yours,” he whispers, suddenly turning your body so that you could face him. You see that he’s still clothed, contrasting your naked skin that glows in the sunlight and shines through the windows. Suguru can’t help the growl that leaves his mouth, so desperate and needy, as if he were dying from hunger—a starved beast.

“‘m not stopping ‘til I make a fuckin’ mess out a ya, and I won’t care if you cry. In fact—“ he paused, cock straining ridiculously in his pants, impaling you back down on his fingers but this time even faster—harder. He maneuvers his thumb to meet your clit, rubbing nasty little circles on it, wiggling his pinky throughout your folds to caress your sopping lips so tenderly—you think you just might pass out.

“—let me hear you cry out for me, let my followers hear your screams rattle the fucking halls.”

KENTO N. -> THE SUPERIOR 🖤

It’s hard—being a jujutsu sorcerer, that is. Curse, after curse, after damned curse until the sorcerer itself gives in, body and mind.

Thankfully, Kento’s found a way to relieve that pressure, that tension—you, his precious subordinate. A kohai, if you will.

While his methods of stress relief aren’t exactly considered ethically sound, he just can’t help but preen from how willing and eager his precious little kohai is to please him.

And yet, he’d never admit how fucking hard it gets him to see you take his punishments like the perfect little slut he knows you are, even if you did nothing wrong.

“Bend over.”

Silence.

You can’t quite pinpoint the exact reason behind his anger, especially since it seemed directed towards you—you just got here!!

‘Did I forget to turn in the last mission report? Was I suppose to meet up with him to close out a mission? Oh crap—I returned his book to him right?!?’ your brain wracking up a multitude of different catastrophic events that you almost miss his question again.

“I’m not kidding, sweetheart. Bend. Over.” you hear him repeat himself, but this time his voice lowers an octave. His sharp voice draws your attention back to him, and you take a moment to notice his appearance. He’s rolling the cuffs of his sleeves up to his forearm, girthy veins bulging along his arms that make him seem so fucking huge it has you internally gasping at the thought of how his cock would deliciously ruin you.

The atmosphere in the room quickly shifts to one that the two of you were always so familiar with, yet too ethical to pursue. While you were only a year or two younger than him, being his subordinate—let alone a kohai—made this affair much more dangerous than need be. But work always came first, especially since Nanami was overseeing your skills to determine if you qualified for individual work.

Guess that goes out the window today.

Before he could repeat himself for a third time, you turn your body around for him and lean across his desk, presenting him your pretty ass that was covered—a present for him to unwrap.

He makes haste towards you, pulling at his tie and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the midst of his stride. Once behind you, he pushes a hand down onto the middle of your back and thrusts his hips against your plump rear, making you feel the length of his dick through his pants and your skirt. The thrust of his hips and the pressure on your back has your lower body lurching forward and pulls a nasty arch out of your back, further presenting your ass to your sensei.

He rips your skirt off—reminding himself to purchase a new one for you once he’s finished—and stares at you beneath him. The tent in his slacks painfully reminding him of how much he’d love to ram right inside your sweet warmth, but he’d get to that part later.

Oh yes, he plans to play with his precious kohai first.

“So soft…” he says, rubbing a gruff hand along the flesh of your cheeks. He presses his thumbs deeply into your ass, as if he were trying to massage them—*prep* them, for the experience you’re sure to endure, “gonna look so pretty with my handprint decorating it.”

Your heart stutters, butterflies flutter down to your core as you shift your weight from side to side. Slowly, you sway your hips to and fro as Nanami continues to palm at your rear—a dangerous dance certain to make him give in and swoon-

SMACK!!

Or not.

The shriek you let out makes his hips jerk forward, a sudden shockwave of pleasure shooting down kento’s spine that he can’t help but rub his clothed cock against your barely clothed pussy. The flimsy fabric hardly providing any barrier between your cunt and his tip, too fucking wet that it just transfers through.

Another smack fills the air and this time you scream out for him, “sir plea—AGHH!!”

“That’s not what you call me here, try again,” he snarls, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he lands another sharp smack to your ass, “address me, correctly.”

“ngh!! m’sorry d-daddy—ACK!!” you choke out a scream, your rear starting to feel as if it were burned by a hot pan or iron. Fat tears stream down your cheeks, and while Kento would be sympathetic and give you a break—he was too tripped up on the way you cried out so beautifully just for him.

After all, he can feel the slick of your cunt leak down his clothed shaft, staining his pants with a pool of your essence—poor pussy so neglected that she’s crying for attention.

“I know it hurts, sweetheart, but that’s what happens when you don’t do what I say. I told you I needed those jujutsu books back for that convention.”

TOJI F. -> THE BRUTE 🖤

Toji’s always been the kind of man to just push his way through any given situation. A man of sheer, brute strength, it would be foolish for anyone to try and challenge him.

Yet the little brat in you couldn’t help but try and chip away at his ego at any given chance, never allowing him to trample over your tenacity.

It piqued his interest honestly, such a small little lady like you was clearly no match for a big brute like him, so why don’t you just give in?

Unfortunately for you, that bratty behavior of yours would be your own personal undoing.

“You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, doll.”

Now, while his fighting style may seem aggressive and intrusive—hell, he can be a fucking animal when he gets into the rhythm of it. But with you? He was the complete antithesis. Collected, observant, even mindful over his physical prowess—never wanting to scare you. The stark difference in demeanor on how he treats you can even be noted by Shiu (he thinks it’s cute).

But lately, you’ve seemed to be pushing his limits. Taking bigger risks while on jobs, snapping at him over his own fumbles during missions (and gambles), and now you criticize his recent decision (mistake) which led to the two of you losing the lead that promised a hefty sum of coin. It was a fair guess, an “educated assumption” on his part but still, this would have been a huuuge benefit to the two of you.

“Put my mou—y’know what?? I’d like to see you fuckin’ try, old man,” you snap back at him, fuming at your colleagues lack of concern over the failed mission, “wouldn’t be surprised if you had a heart attack or something.”

The tension in the room was getting thicker and thicker, blurring between the lines of lust and power as the two of you glare at each other, battling for dominance. There was only so much toji could take before he snaps, and that last smart comment of yours is what sealed the deal for you.

He strides to you with intent clear as day, and your eyes widen before you find yourself being backed into a corner by him. He slams a hand against the wall while his other one comes up to grip your chin roughly, jerking your head upwards to look up at him—forcing your gaze back to meet his raging one. His hand was big enough to grip your jaw and neck, fuck he was huge.

A cynical laugh escapes his lips, the way your eyes light up with fire at his actions made him all the more eager to break you down to his pliant princess, “oh, m’gonna make you fuckin’ eat those words, doll.”

He grasps the nape of your neck and wraps his fingers in your hair, pulling you down to your knees, making you face his angrily covered cock. A small groan escapes your lips at his roughness, but your eyes incite a challenge—is that all ya got?

He shoves his sweats and boxers down, not even bothering to take them all the way off—too eager to get his dick wet by his fiery little colleague. He gives you a one over, noting how your once cocky eyes now seem to be a tad bit…fearful. He almost feels bad for chuckling at your reaction but then again, you brought this on yourself.

“js’ gonna stare at it, or does this old man gotta do all the work here?” he grips the base of his cock tightly, heaving it up towards your mouth. He smacks his tip upon your lips, smothering them with his precum.

The raunchy moan that left your mouth was embarrassing, but you can’t deny how fucking desirable it made you feel seeing his ferociousness over you. His eagerness, abrasiveness, dominance—all of these pointed to his clear want and desire for you and you alone.

And while you could be evil and tease him for becoming so needy over ‘his doll’ you decide to give in to your lust for him.

Opening your mouth slowly, you allow his tip to dance along your pink tongue. Taking in his taste, you coo and push him in a bit deeper, taking him towards the back of your throat. Pulling back up, you suck his cock inwards and focus your attention towards his tip, effectively making him leak more of his yummy essence into your mouth.

He’s groaning like a whore, taking his other fist and slamming it down on the wall behind you. He’s lost it—truly, lost it. Bulldozing his cock further and further down your throat, loving the way your moans and cries become muffled from how fucking huge his cock is. You’re barely fitting half in your mouth, poor thing.

“Fucking choke on it, my filthy fuckin’ cockslut,” he grunts out, gritting his teeth as he watches you take his cock down your throat again, just to come back up and suckle at his tip. You whine around it, sending vibrations that shoot down to his balls and makes his legs fucking shake, “—nghh, just l-like that girl, f-fuck!!”

He’s growling and fisting your hair tighter, unapologetically fucking his length into your mouth as he chases his release. He feels his knees shake a bit at the way you seem to chase after his cock, fighting to take his cock deeper and suck his fuckin’ soul out of it, “o-oohh fuck, m’gonna fuckin’ cum doll, don’t stop.”

Even if you didn’t have toji’s hands guiding your face like a fucking sex doll, there was no way in hell you planned on letting up on his cock now. You wanted to get him to cum, too absorbed at the thought of him. Your own pussy dripping with excitement as you hurriedly await for his orgasm to come.

The groan he lets out as he chases his high is unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him. You swore that his voice could move mountains with how deep and gritty it was, making your cunt flutter helplessly. You licked his base as you come back up to his tip again, kissing and slurping around it to send him over the edge.

All toji sees is white, all he feels is heat, all he can think of is you and that damned fucking mouth that has him getting whiplash.

He cums in your mouth, surprised at the sudden force his orgasm had over his body. He’s shaking—convulsing, fighting to catch his breath as his hand on the wall supports his weight.

“Don’t waste a s-single drop…or I’ll have ya go again,” he pants, taking his cock out of your mouth. He lets you catch your breath, kneeling down to your level and gripping your chin to catch your attention, “but then again, you’d probably like that wouldn’t ya, doll?”

SUKUNA R. -> THE DEVIANT 🖤

All Sukuna has ever known has been power—king of curses, the most feared being in jujutsu history, the strongest entity in the world—titles that indubitably reinforce his ego and pride.

And yet, none of that matters until he gets you to say it. Until he has you under his grasp. It’s almost as if your words bring truth to the meaning, making his blood boil from how dependent he’s come to grow onto you.

By his logic, this was all your fault. He needed to get his edge back—what better way to do so than to go directly to the source?

“Look at you, stretched and trembling so perfectly around your king,” he trails off with a chuckle, loving at how nimble and pliant you’ve become from cuming around his fingers and tongue(s) for literal hours. Regardless of the amount of times your king plays with his pussy, it seems Sukuna’s interest in you would never fade—not like you wanted it to anyways.

“Tell me—” he starts, gripping your chin tightly as he sinks his cock deeper and deeper into your womb—his other cock leaking furiously on top of your tummy, cum gathering on top of your plush crevices that makes him drool like a fucking dog, “—to whom do you belong to?”

“Y-you, my lord!” you pathetically cry out, trying your best to hold your gaze steady with his, but ultimately failing and surrendering to the bliss your king provides you. He growls, sinking a finger in your mouth as he gives you a sharp thrust of his hips. You feel his tip touching your cervix—cockhead poking and prodding along the outline of your womb as he tries to fuck through your cervix and into your guts.

“Look at me, now,” he demands, upper lip raising and letting his canines peak out. Your eyes snap open instantly, only to be met with haunting red ones that were filled with a hunger that you’ve never seen within him. The hand that has his finger shoved in your mouth wraps around your chin and neck, smothering your face with your drool, making him twitch in your cunt from the sheer depravity of it all. He leans down to your face, licking a stripe up your cheek to taste your spit and bite your flesh, earning a cute little squeal from you that has him chuckle evilly.

Small hands wrap around his thick wrist as a whimper gets pushed past your throat and flows into Sukuna’s head, dancing in his mind and coaxing him to fuck you wildly. He stills his hips, halting the movement of his cock that’s pushed deeply into your womb, and the way your heart sank to your sweet cunny knowing damn well that this was only the beginning had your clit throb with excitement. You know he felt your arousal too—a sadistic, shit eating grin that just so happened to form on Sukuna’s face gave it away.

“so mean ‘kuna!!” you whine, small hands press against his toned stomach, pathetically trying to push him away as a pout forms on your face. He tisks at you, tapping his index finger on your cheek while keeping his grip firm on your chin.

“Mean? I’ve shown you mercy when most would have met their measly fate. I let you see me, feel me—remember your place,” his tone’s laced with venom as he reinforces his point by pistoning his cock with reckless abandon, and while his words may have scared people away from him it only encouraged your need to sink your teeth into his soul and be a part of him undoubtedly—folie a deux at its finest.

“and what is it? what’s m-ahh-my place?” you snap back, continuing to take the brunt of his thrusts as you feel your ass start to sting. Heavy balls swinging against your plump cheeks while his other cock starts to pulse against you and as much as you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t help but want to please your lords cock.

You wanted to fucking milk him.

“your place—” he starts, letting go of your chin to hoist both thighs onto his shoulders. Slowly, he lowers himself down towards you, effectively pushing you into a mating press that will surely end in you getting knocked up by the curse.

“—is to please me—” sukuna grunts, shifting your body down the bed to further hover over you, as if he were a predator leaning over his fresh kill.

“—to worship me—,” he shifts his hips closer to yours, his pelvis and thighs showing no remorse to your poor, bruised ass and pussy, “—and to be my good fucking slut.”

With that, he slams his shaft fully inside your cunt; the new position forcing you to feel every inch of him with no escape. His cock curves inwards and pushes against your g-spot, ravaging your defenseless cunny, making you howl like a bitch in heat and squirt on the spot. He belts out a laugh of delight, fiending from the sight of you quite literally losing control of your sanity and giving into your king.

“Gonna make you fucking work for it—fucking beg your king for mercy.”

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed!! What do y’all think of this one?? Which was your fav?? I’d love to hear back from y’all <3

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

[parfaitblogs]

false god ❀ s. reid x reader

in which spencer (literally) cannot wait to show you how pretty he thinks you are tonight. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: established relationship. public stuff. fingering. the team is there. readers wearing a skirt. he looooves you. they're at a bar. kinda soft dom!spence but like only if you squint. i have never posted smut before if im missing tags tell meee word count: 1.9k a/n: biting the bullet. posting smut (shudders). i have a singular roman empire and it is spencer reid plus fingering. i think about it sooo often. i do not think he would be the type to actually do this in public so yes it is self indulgent yes u can all call me crazy!! idgaf!!! i feel like the pacing in this is kinda weird pls forgive i never write smut :< if it's bad don't tell me let me be blissfully ignorant thank YEW!!

You were pretty sure there was something wrong with him (Spencer Reid). Something fundamentally broken in his brain, because he had not said a word to you that made sense from the second he picked you up from your apartment that evening. 

A lot of 'mhm's' and 'yeah's', which from maybe any other man would be normal, was not from him. He didn't speak incredibly eloquently, per se. But he did always respond to you in sentences. He liked to talk, so this lack of it was concerning you. 

He was seated next to you, in the booth Penelope Garcia had scouted out the second she stepped foot into the bar you were all meeting at. It was supposed to be a simple evening. Some drinks, some talking, winding down after the awful case you had just come back from. Spencer's lack of talking had you feeling anything but (simple). 

"Are you okay?" you had asked him when half the team stood up to go purchase the second round of drinks for everyone, and he wordlessly nodded his head, staring at the glass of water on the table in front of him, condensation sweating down to the wood. 

He wasn't. But there was only so much you could do for him when he was shutting down, especially in a public setting, so you nodded your own head, and settled into conversation with JJ instead. 

His hand found your thigh at some point during the conversation, and while you had flinched at its first contact, you didn't think much of it — he was never one for huge displays of affection, but he loved having his hands on you. An act as simple as a hand on your back had you swooning now, because you knew in his mind, he was thinking everything there was to possibly think about you. 

What you did think much of, was the way it crept higher as the team returned with drinks, and the noise from your booth got louder as conversations clashed with each other. 

Your head turned to the side, eyebrows furrowing, but he was still staring at his half-drank glass of water, with no real expression on his face. Frustratingly so.

He was never cruel, you learned. It was why his next action didn't occur until you had finished your sentence to JJ, as if to prevent what would've been your vocal chords tightening and lifting the octave of your voice as you spoke. 

It was such a featherlike touch it was hardly there, and you probably wouldn't have noticed it if he didn't do it again. And again. And again. One of his fingers brushing delicately over the centre of your underwear in a quick swiping motion, that had your head snapping to the side, meeting his jawline and his unwavering gaze with his glass of water. 

"Spencer," you muttered, and it was only then did he tilt his head down to look at you, raising an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

His hand wrapped around the side of your inner thigh and tugged you across the seat, closer to him, his head ducking down to speak. 

"You're really pretty," he murmured, and your eyebrows only furrowed further at that.

"Thank you," you decided to say. "But what are you doing?"

"I just wanna touch you. Is that okay?"

You were silent for a moment. Maybe a moment too long, because he was already pulling his hand off your thigh, nodding his head.

"I mean, yes," you quickly say, catching his wrist before it could stray too far. "I was just confused where this was coming from."

"I really like the skirt," he explained, and your lips parted and an amused huff of air left them. Of course.

"Me too."

"Need you to wear it more often," he then said, his hand finding its way back between your thighs. "Please?"

"Maybe," you said, because it was all you could say, considering he was moving things along a little bit faster now that you had consented (not that you think you would've denied it). 

His ministrations were small enough that you could keep your voice steady as you kept conversation going with JJ, but firm enough that you squirmed every thirty seconds. He, on the other hand, was acting as though he was doing nothing to you, engaged in a conversation about the origins of pasta, with David Rossi. 

"I mean, in Greek mythology, it suggests that the Greek god Vulcan invented a device that made strings of dough. Which could be classified as the first spaghetti," he said, and at the same time, his fingers slipped beneath your underwear, brushing over your embarrassingly wet folds. 

You watched him stiffen, only because you had killed your conversation with JJ with one too many 'uh-huh's', and his jaw locked.

You were merely observant as he circled your clit a few times, until you were picking up your drink and forcing yourself to sip on it in order to keep your mouth busy — instead of releasing a moan that you really didn't want the team to hear. 

His gaze flicked to you for only half a second, and you met his eyes with an embarrassingly desperate look, and he laughed, oh so quietly, before a finger slipped into you. 

It was so gentle you thought you would go insane, and he rested the finger there for a few seconds as he responded to an argument Rossi had made about the Italian's inventing bolognese or whatever. You weren't really listening. 

The internal war you were dealing with; a pool of fiery butterflies in your stomach and the constant screaming to stay quiet in your brain was a stark contrast to Spencer's relaxed state. Because he had lazily began to move his finger like it was Sunday morning and he was easing you awake, and not in the middle of a Virginia bar with conversations amongst the team happening around you. 

You hated him for that.

Your hips squirmed when he crooked his finger, and your free hand bolted to his wrist, holding his hand still just before he could do it again, and elicit a sound from you.

The second Rossi had become immersed in something Morgan had said, Spencer's gaze was returning to you, an amused smile stretched across his lips. 

"You okay, honey?" he murmured, ducking his face down to kiss your cheek, heat blossoming on the spot. 

"I am trying so hard not to make a noise," you said, and he smiled, and you could feel it against your skin, wonderfully so.

"And you're doing an excellent job of it."

"You know, if you just took me to the bathroom..." you trailed off, eyes flickering up to him. 

"Not happening. Do you know how many germs are in public bathrooms?"

"Probably as many as the seat you're currently fingering me on," you hissed, voice hushed. 

At that, he pushed the heel of his hand against your clit, and you choked out a mewl. 

"I can stop," he said, though it didn't come out as a warning. You knew he only offered it because he would get the reaction of you violently shaking your head. "Right. No bathroom."

"No bathroom," you agreed with a flip of your stomach. 

His attention was captured by a conversation again, and with it, his finger began moving again. He was moving it with such an expertise that if this was any other situation you'd be impressed. Unfortunately, you were a little preoccupied with trying not to make a sound to appreciate how well he knew your body. 

Lazy pumps of his finger had you reeling and he was hardly doing anything, which was definitely going to be embarrassing to think about later on when he brings this up. Like you knew he would. 

Your A+ streak of making no noise was interrupted — quite rudely — by him slipping another finger in, the uncomfortable stretch that only lasted a second eliciting a whimper you couldn't keep to yourself. His eyebrows shot up and you were thankful Rossi had not been looking at him when his gaze rested on you again, and that the music in the bar was loud enough to drown out the sound to anyone who wasn't listening for it. 

"Too much?" he asked, but the second you felt him slowly pulling that second finger back, you were shaking your head, nails digging into the wrist that you still had captured. 

"No. It's not. Promise."

He smiled, and wordlessly nodded his head as he allowed the finger to straighten inside of you. Then, he moved them in and out of you a few times, achingly slowly. 

"Spencer," you breathed out, frustrated. 

"Yes, angel?"

"Can you please... just... go faster," you bit out, heat flushing your cheeks. Again.

"That would make it obvious," he answered, and you let out a huff of air. You knew he was right. "But," he added, upon detecting your annoyance. "I can do this."

He was once again proving how well he knew your body, because his thumb so easily found your clit, and circled it in a way that shot sparks up through your body.

"Yes you can," you agreed, nodding your head eagerly, and he breathed out a chuckle.

It seemed to be a lot easier to do that fast enough and hide what he was doing to you at the same time, because his fingers bent upwards at the same time he flicked his thumb over your clit, and whatever self-control you thought you had was swindled.

Your teeth bit down on the disintegrating paper straw, just to stop the moan that caught in the base of your throat from leaving it, and at that, he did it again. 

Spencer Reid was good at a lot of things. Making you come from the lightest of touches seemed to be joining that long list. Your head buried itself into the forearm of the hand that was touching you, at the same time he used it to push your hips back into the seat when they had begun to lift upwards. 

"You're making it obvious," he said to you, and what you're sure would've been a wonderfully eloquent argument died in your throat when he flicked your clit again. 

"I can't," you managed to get out, shaking your head as your fingers dug perhaps a little too hard into his wrist. 

"No?" he mused, though didn't stop his movements. You shook your head. He smiled. "So you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Mm, you're conflicting yourself, angel," he said, and you groaned for more than just how he was making you feel because you knew that. 

You bit down on his arm through his shirt to silence another moan when he pushed his fingers in a little harder than before, and if it hurt, he didn't say anything. You decided it must not have, because he repeated that movement. 

You were fighting against the need to squirm as your stomach tightened. And he must've figured out what was happening, because he masked your incandescent need to moan by using his opposite hand to entangle within your hair, bringing your face into his chest, acting as a hug to anyone who could see you. 

"There you go," he murmured, awfully gently, in your ear, as your walls fluttered around his fingers. 

You weren't sure if you were imagining your hips jerking until he was slipping his fingers out of you and pushing them down into the seat again.

He wiped his fingers against his pants, and your lips parted, eyes staring at him, dumbfounded. 

"What?" 

You shook your head, regaining a little self control as you settled down. "Nothing. I'm wearing this skirt again, though."

"Good."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[alice-everafter]

"Were you aware that you talk in your sleep?"

Through the haze of tiredness, Vil's voice rings clear, as it so often does. It takes a few too many blinks to will the grogginess away. But when it does, you turn on your side towards him. He's in a position mirroring your own, his form highlighted by the early morning rays of sunlight leaking in through the window behind him. Swathed in blankets that have clearly seen better days, as was typical of Ramshackle grade furnishing.

"...Good morning to you too, Vil."

He doesn't reply with any words, merely a hum of acknowledgement.

It's unfair how perfect he can look so soon after waking. Cause you know for a fact your hair is in tangles under your head. Makes you feel like a true potato, as he so calls you.

You're reminded of the circumstances behind this current arrangement as he eyes your drowsy self calmly. Turns out, even after renovations, Ramshackle is still ramshackle. It only took one flop onto your bed for the legs holding up the bedframe to give out entirely. The sound had attracted the whole VDC squad, so they got to bare witness to probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Well, Ace made certain that it was, at least.

Originally content to sleep on a slightly shorter than usual bed, Vil had been quite adamant on not letting you. Something about bugs and possibilities of them infesting the mattress. It didn't really matter to you, but somehow you found yourself in his room. Rather, one of your guest rooms. And that was where you still were, letting him eye you down like a product on display.

"...Something on my face?"

"Yes, drool."

Nice to know that Vil's charm was present every hour of the day.

"...What was this about me talking in my sleep?" You try to nonchalantly swipe a hand over your mouth, but it fails spectacularly. Nothing gets past this man.

"You mumble all sorts of nonsense." He looks like a Renaissance painting as he brushes a stray lock from his eyes, tucking it elegantly behind his ear. "I nearly thought you were awake at first, talking to yourself."

"Yes, cause that's totally what one does first thing in the morning. Talk to themself."

The sleepiness has clearly made you overly confident. If the glare he levels you is anything to go by.

"Notice how I said 'nearly.' Meaning I didn't actually think you were. Does the morning dim your wit more than normal?"

"...For someone so insistent on getting me in their bed, you're rather snappy."

"Why I never." That comment gets him riled enough to sit up. You feel tiny as he stares daggers down at you where you continue to lie. In your puddle of disarray, while he's somehow runway ready at the ass crack of dawn.

"How can you look like a Greek god first thing in the morning?" Oh, so you've decided to voice your thoughts out loud. Ok, cool, that's totally what you wanted to do. Totally.

You watch as his anger morphs into confusion. "Greek god?"

"Oh," that's right. That's a 'your world' thing, isn't it. "A reference from back home, don't worry about it."

"Hmph," he grunts. Well, you'd hardly call it a grunt. Vil wouldn't do something as barbaric as grunt. It was more like a delicate, posh scoff. But, he no longer looks as mad as he did before, so you guess it was a good thing you decided to voice your inner musings aloud. "Does this 'Greek god' happen to have flawless skin, gorgeous hair, and impeccable taste?"

You don't want to answer him, cause you know where this is going. But, again, nothing escapes the notice of this man. You're forced to watch his lips curl up into an infuriatingly hot smug grin.

"From your face, I assume so. It's kind of you to notice the obvious."

You're very well awake by now, but you still roll your eyes. You may lowkey highkey fear this man, but nothing could've held that reaction back.

"Yeah, well, they're also incredibly abnormal. Cause the rest of the population doesn't typically wake up looking like a supermodel."

"If you think I'm a supermodel now, then you must think I'm ethereal on a day to day."

You do nothing but grumble as you shuffle to sit up, rubbing leftover sleep from your eyes while pointedly ignoring how he practically preens next to you. When you instinctually card a hand through your hair, instead of it catching on knots like you expect, it goes right through.

"It's the pillow case."

Again, the bastard reads your expression like a book and promptly comments on it.

"Satin is good for both the skin and the hair."

You're tempted to call him extra, cause who brings their own pillow case to someone else's house? But the way your hair feels, how it's free from a majority of its typical morning tangles, shuts you up.

You chance a glance up at him. Head turned towards you, knees bent below the covers, an elbow rested over top, chin held primly in the palm of his hand, still haloed by the rising sun like it’s a paid actor. With an elegant quirk to his brow and an expression equal parts amused and sickly fond.

There is... something running laps in your chest. Begging to be acknowledged. To be known.

"...If you're fishing for another compliment, you'll find that I've reached my daily quota."

You swing your legs over the side of the bed as you hear him click his tongue. And no, it's not running away, but it sort of feels like it is.

"I'll go and make myself presentable before starting on breakfast. You said we needed more protein, right? I was thinking I could make omelets━"

"A shame, really."

You have no clue how he moved so silently, but he was suddenly next to you and unapologetically in your space. Brushing hair behind your ear like he was born to do it. Walking the small distance around to your front so you could see the pleased smile upon his lips and knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Damn him, you can't help but internally curse as goosebumps form where his fingers had barely even grazed. Nothing gets past him, and especially not you.

"I was so hoping for a few more compliments, because I certainly haven't reached my needed quota."

[thedivinetarot]

Light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul

Who is your future spouse?

☆How to chose the perfect pile?

1) Clear your mind.

2) Take a deep breathe.

3) Ask the question in your head.

4) Open your eyes and the picture that you are drawn to the most is your pile.

☆ Before you get into the reading you have to know the following:

- Please, please and I will say it again please do not think of anyone while you are choosing. Not your Ex or current boyfriend or even your crush. And I will say it again DO NOT THINK of any man as your future spouse if you want to have an accurate reading.

- This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest. The future is not set in stone and the energy can change. This reading does not substitute any medical or professional help.

- I might do part 2 for this reading.

Stay safe ❤

Arya

Pile 1 - Bram stoker's Dracula

☆Where are you coming from? Your current love life:

I see that this pile have been lonely for quite some time and they are wondering if they will truly find someone. I see that you guys are overthinking everything about your love life and you are leaving no space for divine intervention. This pile’s energy is quite sad and tormented? You perhaps tell yourself that you don't need anyone but you truly want to build something stable and long lasting. I see that you feel stuck on I'm independent I don't need anyone mindset. Not because you really like being independent but because you are afraid of getting disappointed. The problem with this pile is the fear is literally paralyzing you and sabotaging any potential connection that can fit into your life. I'm also seeing that you might be someone who have been rejected and the pain of rejection is still vivid in your core memory. I see that you truly want love and to be loved! You might have a crush on someone with virgo or taurus placements. Or you might feel drawn to those type of men who embodies this archetype. I feel like you are kind of traditional towards dating. You might have had strict family or you really have a strong opinion regarding dating or hookup culture. This is your pile if you have strong virgo placements, water placements or the description fit you perfectly.

Who is your future spouse?

Pile one you might be manifesting your twin flame to be in a marriage with them? This person might enter your life so soon and above all you might get to know him online? I see that he might like your photos if you post yourself or he might just DM you through social media? This person is so grounded and stubborn. He is so earthy and stable in a generous way. He is the perfect mix between fire and earth. He is so childish or he aim to see infinite possibilities. I see that he is doing shadow work or he has been to therapy before. I see that this person is either a heartbreaker or been heartbroken many times. He is so naive or he seems naive? He might prefer texting over phone or video calls. There's an emphasis on his hair. He have curly and dark hair. His eyes are sleepy or he have sleepy eyes. There's something about his face, you see those people who have sleepy faces? Like they just woke up? I guess he might have that. He might look innocent and angelic. Like his aura is so comforting and serene. I also see that this person look younger than his age with hazel eyes. His style looks chill, like you see those guys who wear comfy hoodies? He might be one of them. I asked when will you meet him and the cards told me that you may meet him 6 months from now. You might be on a journey of self discovery when he enters your life. You might be losing weight and if you are not trying to lose weight; you might be trying to get in shape. I see that you are going to meet him after doing a lot of shadow work and inner reflection.

Pile 2 - The Addams couple

☆ Where are you coming from? Your current love life:

This pile is my daring and flirty pile. You might like your solitude but you flirt for fun. I see that most interactions that happen between you and the opposite sex are online. You might like to post spicy photos of yourself. Or send nudes to total strangers in public. You might like to take initiative in relationships. Even if you are a woman/female; you simply don't care about the traditional roles. Especially on who get to initiate to whom. If you like someone you are going to get them, I see that this is your moto. Also this might be your pile if you are stuck on a decision regarding travel. You might want to travel but you are juggling too many responsibilities and this is holding you back from actually pursuing that goal. If you are a man (since the dominant energy on this pile are men or masculines) you might be posting photos or nudes of yourself online. I see many risky photos and poses and if you are not a man or masculine then you might be doing the same action. You really value your own space; I see that you are protecting your peace at all costs. I mean yes you might like to flirt for fun with others but nothing really is serious and you are not looking for something serious either. This is your pile if you have significant leo or Aries placements.

Who is your future spouse?

Your future spouse is someone that you are going to meet through group project. At first as I said about your current energy, you are not looking for something serious so when you meet that person you'll find it kind of confusing. I see that you might be blinded at first. Like you might not notice them and if you are working with them you might not be attracted to them. They are not your usual type, they might be smart and quick thinker. This person knows how to take care of themselves. He might also know how to take care of women in general. Men might call him simp but he is no simp he is just so kind and empathetic towards women's needs. He is so determined, I see that once he put his mind on a goal he doesn't stop when he is tired, He only stop when he finish. I see that he LOVES to conquer a good challenge. He likes to to be assertive and he is looking for someone assertive too. He want his equal, his queen. He might look like he suit you? Wait let me rephrase it. You see that two people who are not dating but everyone in workplace ship them? You two might have intense chemistry. This person look like a heartbreaker. Eye color range from brown to gray or just those two colors. His hair is so silky or wavy. He have this confused look when he talk to you? He might even drag his feet while he walk, or he might look tired when he walk.

Pile 3 - Nosferatu

Where are you coming from? Your current love life.

Well, looking at the cards this pile is in their sweet feminine energy who wants princess treatment and to be spoiled. If this is not the case then this piles are for mothers or you are a mother or pregnant. If you are not pregnant and you are the girl who is in her feminine energy then I see that there's someone who wants to pursue you and he is so damn confident about it. I see that you guys are so confident in yourselves. Perhaps, you are someone who is working on their self esteem and self worth. I see that whatever the case you are in. It is going to pay off. For my girlies who are being pursued by someone I see that this person is very serious about you. He want to marry you quiet literally. This person sees you as his wife or future wife. I also see that this connection is meant to be and is distant to happen even if you are not aware of it. This person is quite civilized and diplomatic. He want to make you happy and cherish you, but if you don't want him it is your choice at the end of the day. I see a lot of happiness in this pile. Guys happiness is your middle name, since the energy or the cards I'm pulling are all yellow and yellow means happiness in tarot. Another energy I'm picking up on is that this pile doesn't really want to be strong and independent. Unlike pile one who is pushing themselves to be that way, this pile is accepting the fact that you want to be a stay at home mother or a rich wife of a rich dude. Most people in this pile are Venus dominant, have taurus or libra placement or have venusian energy in general. You guys might be the pretty girl in your friend group and everyone enjoys looking at you.

Who is your future spouse?

So right off the bat what I'm seeing is someone who have a lot of options. You know that one man who is wanted by every woman because of how friendly and charismatic he is? This man has this energy. It looks like this person is someone who has been heartbroken before and now he keeps his options open by befriending many girls and keeping his options open. He have the cup of love and he is so eager to give it to someone, I'm also picking up on someone passionate and eager to explore life. This person is sooo romantic in a cheesy way. I see that many times he attempted to get in a relationship but got afraid and back off from pursuing something serious. This person believes in manifestations or he tried manifesting an SO or future wife or this person really believes that he can create the reality he wants. This person gives off the vibe of a knight in a shining armor or a Disney prince tbh. This person look like a literal baby or he have baby features. He might have round or oval face. This man can be a little overweight or fat with blonde hair and blue eyes. He is so cute I'm seeing a picture of someone who look adorable and sweet. This person gives off the vibe of "I look good as a husband". But in general this person look so childish and baby like. Could look younger than his actual age? Or this person might be younger than you, but not so much like a couple months younger. He is so friendly or he have a lot of female friendships. This man gives off the ENFJ vibes Idk if you know mbti but you can Google it if you want to. He is so emotionally mature and caring. His energy is so nurturing. I asked the cards about when will you are going to meet him and they said he will enter soon into your life and one of the signs is a female around you is going to give birth or you are going to meet a pregnant woman or one of your relatives/friends will get pregnant. There's a NOTE for this pile specifically; if you are being pursued by someone this person is your future spouse. And if you are not being pursued by anyone then you might know who your future spouse is. And if you don't have anyone then take the reading with a grain of salt but you can enjoy it anyways.

Pile 4 - Hollywood couple

Where are you coming from? Your current love life:

This pile is truly stuck. I feel like I'm bored and desperate I want to cry. Like guys what is the matter? There's both boredom and stagnation. You might be someone who is really bored with how things are in your love life. I'm picturing a girl about 16 to 18 years old who want to be open to love but there's a man in her life (could be a male caregiver) who is very strict and structured. This man literally destroyed your well to date anyone. I feel like you are discouraged by the idea of love and I feel that you are unbalanced in a way? Like you are trying to protect yourself from getting hurt but at the same time you want love so freaking bad. I'm clinching my jaw and I feel like I want to scream and yell and kick things around me. Pile four why are you so angry? Please calm down! There's nothing in this life that deserve all this anger. Please take a break and go balance yourself and life. You are still young and have no experience and life is still long in front of you. I see that you might be waiting for something to happen; for someone to come in and rescue you from your life but nothing really happens so you pour all of your anger and resentment on yourself. Please stop hurting yourself and go find a hobby or something that can help you channel this anger and resentment. I'm picking up on someone who is bottling up their feelings and not really trying to express them. I also feel headache, do you have headache pile four? Are you bloated too? You might have significant leo and Aries placements. A little Taurus placements and sun, mars and sagittarius dominate. I feel like you are waiting and waiting but the waiting itself got bored of you lol. And you end up feeling devastated and angry. This pile’s energy is so rageful, please do some meditation or workout to get rid of that anger. You might also be scared of change? And overwhelmed by the idea of change? You might be someone who doesn't really like things to change and stick to a specific routine. Anyways let's get into the reading.

Who is your future spouse?

This person is very hardworking and workaholic. I see that the main focus in his life is his career, money and stability. This man is a little bit selfish, and he became like that because of how much he suffered. This person suffered from poverty, or he was very poor. He might even get kicked out of his family house so he can work and get them money. This person got bullied a lot by his peers and saw a lot of cruelty in his life, I feel so sorry for him. This person might be closed off emotionally, it is like he is trying to shelter himself from any possible heartache because of what happened in his childhood. I also see that when you meet him he might not be ready for anything serious or he might not really have healed fully from what has happened to him. There's an age gap here, he might he older than you or more mature. Like 4 years older. He might also be a co-worker of you? Or acquaintance If it is not then he might work with you in your field. The main challenge he is facing is stability, he want stability to be able to marry you. My advice for this pile is don't try to force things out if this person is not ready for commitment. He hasn't healed yet and his main focus is on the material. He might even use you if you attempted to help him financially so please don't. What really amazed me in this pile that this man is so materialistic, his love language can be gift giving. Now his appearance; this person look so cocky and confident. He have hazel eye color and sharp features. This person's back look hot or beautiful. He is not that tall, he is medium height. His hair is dirty blonde or chestnut brown. A foreigner? He might not be from your country. This man is possessive to be honest. If you met him after he get his ish together he will spoil you rotten but if not then don't try to help and heal him. You might meet him at the end of November to the most of December.

Post date: 25th/Aug/2024 - Sun

*Feedback is appreciated

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW! Nightcrawler/GN!Reader

This is purely self-indulgent smuttiness for Kurt, because sometimes cuteness aggression surfaces as really wanting to suck a man's dick. I know we haven't actually seen him in the 97' show yet, but I couldn't help myself. Think of this as a mixture between show Kurt and Comic Kurt. Or imagine any Kurt really.

Tw: MDNI!!!! Oral, slight cursing. Reader was pictured as AFAB while writing but no specific genitals or pronouns are mentioned.

Trying to relax in the X mansion was near impossible. There's always some event, some drama or loudness taking place. Living with gambit was hard enough with the explosions and shit, but after Jubilee moved in…

There was just no Peace in this house. Even though you wouldn't trade it for the world, there wasn't exactly any "me" time, If you catch my drift. It was ridiculously hard to find time for yourself, leaving you a bit more pent up than normal.

On top of that, there was almost always some sexual tension in the house. Rogue and gambit, Jean and Scott. Morph. Literally just Morph, and their innuendos. It was hard enough to see Rogue and Remy tip-toe around eachother, But Jean and Scott? You can't remember a time they weren't sneaking off together to get laid.

All this had left you ridiculous stiff. No free time, surrounded by the adult equivalent of horny teens, it was taking a toll on you. When Kurt came back to the mansion, you were over the moon to see him.

You loved your boyfriend so incredibly much, but never before had you been thinking such sinful thoughts about him. You'd steel glances of his toned arms when he'd hand you something. Glance at his ass when he walked by. Hell, just his smile and laugh would get you going.

He was just so cute. He's loving, and caring, and kind. You felt so lucky to be with him, but that didn't change the fact that you wanted to jump his bones, bad. You wanted to suck this man dry, and as embarrassed you are to admit it, you didn't hesitate to. The moment you finally had him in your bed, you knew you were going to give this man the best head of his life.

“You want to-?” Kurt’s breath hitches, the faint pupils in his yellow eyes dilating. His adam's apple bobbs as he looks away from your heated gaze and sets his eyes on your hands, idly stroking down his soft abdomen. You lean down to kiss him again, tenderly. He returns the kiss eagerly, his tail swaying back and forth on the bed. It takes a moment for you to be able to focus enough to get back on task.

“Please, Kurt.” You beg, breaking the kiss with him. He chases after your lips, and the action is so cute you can't help but kiss him again, and again. You kiss the corner of his mouth, before kissing the crook of his neck, and then his collarbone, dragging your teeth across the velvety blue skin. His soft moans are music to your ears as your hands drag lower, gently cupping the bulge that had started to grow. The air catches in his chest, but you don't tease him for long, moving your hands up and down his chest once again. His tail wraps around one of your wrists.

“Are you sure?” Kurt asks, one of his hands reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. You can help but lean into the touch with a sigh, mouth watering at the prospect of having him against your tongue. You smile at him, scoffing just lightly.

“Of course I am, silly.” The words come out breathlessly. “Why wouldn't I be?” You trail kisses lower, paying special attention to the curly hair of his happy trail as you softly run your fingers across his skin. Kurt swallows, letting out a quiet whine as you start to slide his sweatpants down to free his cock.

“ ‘Just… Don't want you to feel like you have to, Schatz- Hng..” He lets out a choaked groan as you start to press kisses along his inner thighs as you remove the pants completely. You giggle a little, aiming to make him moan just a little louder as you start to stroke and kiss along his length.

“Believe me, love, I wouldn't be begging for it if I did.” You respond. Kurt opens his mouth to speak again, only to cut himself off with a sharp “Ah!” as you take the head of his cock into your mouth and start to suck. The end of his tail twitches, still wrapped around your wrist, and he chuckles.

“That was a dirty trick,” He says, reaching down to move the hair out of your face. You hum in appreciation as his hand gathers your locks, holding the hair back so he can see you better. You reward him by taking more of him into your mouth, reveling in the noises you receive in return. His skin is smooth and soft, and you find yourself appreciating every inch of him you can fit in your mouth.

You're doing your very best to give him exactly the kind of head he deserves for being so sweet and loving and caring. You think about the chores he's done without asking since he's been back as you swirl your tongue around his tip. The book he brought you as a souvenir as you glide back down, nosing the dark blue patch of curls. God- he was just the most perfect man you had ever met, and you were determined to reward him for that.

“Scheisse- I… Liebe, I'm going to…ah!” Kurt begins to writhe underneath you, and it gives you the best satisfaction when you open your eyes to see his face contorted in the throes of pleasure. You savor the taste of his skin as he begins to twitch in your mouth. His grip tightens around your hair, he free hand opening and clenching as he scrambles for purchase on the bed. You take hold of it, lacing your hands together as best you can just in time for him to reach his peak.

You never really liked the taste or texture of cum, but for Kurt, You'd swallow every drop he gives you. You work him through his high as he squeezes your hand, moaning at the sensation. His moans turn to whines as he becomes sensitive, his tail unwinding Itself from your wrist. You can tell just by looking at it that it might bruise, but you wouldn't dare tell him that.

His grip loosens on your hair as you pull away from him. His yellow eyes are teary and his muscles are relaxed and boneless, but that doesn't stop him from sitting up a little and sliding his hand behind the nape of your neck to pull you in for a deep kiss. His kisses are loving and passionate, they leave you breathless when he pulls away. Kurt licks his lips as he takes you in, chest heaving. You can only imagine how you look with messy hair and swollen, spit stained lips, but there's nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“I love you.” He says, after a moment of silence. “I'm in love with you. You know this, Ja?” His other arm wraps around your waist, tugging you even closer to him. You can't wipe the smile off your face as you lean in, resting your forehead against his own, pressing a chaste kiss against his nose.

“I do. I promise.” You reply. Kurt grins, and you can briefly hear the sound of his tail swishing in a way you know means he's thinking about doing something mischievous, and the next thing you know, there's a *Bamf!* as you fall into where he was once sitting on the bed. You have the slightest moment of confusion before Kurt is behind you. He grabs hold of you, leaning back to make you fall backwards into him with your back against his bare chest. He presses kisses along your neck and maneuvers you into his lap. Your legs are hooked over his own, his knees widening the space between your thighs as his hands trail so close to where you want him to be.

“Please, let me return the favor, my love.”

[cultofcipher]

Bill Cipher thoughts (BoB Spoilers Ahead)

I'm really sitting on how Bill's displayed so much of himself indirectly in the BoB. How during the Love section he denies having exes, marking them out. How said exes show up SEVERAL times scratched out or are regarded with this bitterness of someone who did NOT do the breaking up part. Bill got dumped. Every time. And is desperately trying to bury his feelings.

And that's something I think the Book of Bill really highlights in a way. The fact that Bill has feelings. That deep down he's a broken triangle. It's all over the book's writing. Him pointing out how to use denial and rationalization and other bad coping mechanisms to basically ignore and lie to himself (and show us how to do it) and basically convince himself that he is as heartless as he tries to be. Him avoiding his exes. The tone he uses and the avoidance really giving the "I don't handle breakups well and I'm still petty about it". Him constantly telling himself that he's fine. He's not fine. Him crying over Ford leaving and getting wasted. Him being bitter about the henchmaniacs not calling. His regret over what happened to his world. His loneliness. GOD his loneliness. His self-hatred. His scathing remark about definitely NOT having some tragic backstory that humanizes him and how he's not an "I can fix him case". Calling himself a monster. His longing for home. The "Last one breathing". The "I tried to change the past". The "my hands shaking, as I realized I could never undo the". The "until there was no one left but me, covered in blood, alone in the universe". The goddamn "I don't want to die alone" Valentine's card. The last few pages. Just, the last few pages. That isolation, his pained "I'M FINE". The almost sad plea for someone to let him out.

Bill cares. He's fucked up, unstable, violent. But he does care about people he gets along with and he feels understand him. For every "I'm just playing the bit" and using people with nice gestures, I think a fraction of that is somewhat genuine. And he hates it. He hates his own vulnerability. He hates his lack of apathy. He's denying himself his own emotions constantly under so many layers of distractions, eldritch horrors, and repression. He can't think about home, about failure, about how every relationship he's ever had, platonically or otherwise, ended. And it wasn't on his terms.

Him talking about/to his mom when he's drunk. How his mom called him Billy as a kid. How his home life sounded simple. How Bill as an individual is anything BUT simple. And how his drunken state holds such fondness for that simplicity, yet it was suffocating. How he would've broken free eventually, inevitably, because he knew that's who he was. It's his nature. He was destined for more.

How it cost him everything.

How he's constantly chasing insanity like it's a drug. Like he needs the power trip to stay high. To not think too hard. To drown out his emotions and his self-reflections and everything he hates about himself.

How in Gravity Falls he still tried to get Ford to side with him after everything, cause that was his vulnerability showing, for the slightest glimpse of a moment. Cause he doesn't want to do it alone. Him reaching out to the reader in his book, because he doesn't want to do it alone. Can't do it alone. Even when he eventually betrays that person, I think him offering Ford that cushy spot alongside his henchmaniacs makes me think that yeah, Bill actually would've upheld his end of the deal.

He thinks he wants multiversal domination. He thinks Weirdmageddon is his Magnum Oppus. His purpose. But he's so lost. If he ever does get what he wants, he won't know what to do with himself. He'll be faced with the "Now what?". He'll hit the end of the road and realize how unsatisfying it is. How this isn't what he wanted.

How lonely it is to be God.

I think the Axolotl sees that in Bill. It's why he doesn't try to destroy him or attack him or anything. He sees that inner self of Bill. Sees him for what he really is. Someone who needs a LOT of therapy, a true, honest to goodness friend or partner in his life, and maybe a more sustainable life purpose or hobby. He has so much potential and in a way his pursuit of power, rather than being an actualization of his abilities, is a waste of them, because it gets him nowhere.

And he needs help, even if he doesn't think he does. He's a depressed alcoholic frat boy trying to drown his misery in a way that hurts and kills worlds. He's a girlfailure, a bisexual/pansexual disaster (he's at LEAST canonically bisexual or at MOST canonically pan cause this guy has dated both ways).

Bill's book is so incredibly amazing for what it is. All the lies, all the unrealiable narrator parts of Bill's facades and flaws and him being himself and all of his genuine thoughts and feelings bleeding through the lines and showing themselves but only in a way that you can really understand if you understand him and can tell when he's lying and when he's not. To see the real parts of him, and everything else. This book was perfect, and it was perfectly imperfectly him. This truly is Bill's book. It's so him in such a raw and genuine yet dishonest way. I'm gonna cherish this damn book forever.

[xxsabitoxx]

Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 

Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 

[kiiwiigii]

Dirty Books

Jasper x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your scent has been driving Jasper crazy from day one. After catching you reading a rather interesting book, your scent finally makes his self-control go out the window.

Warnings:

NSFW 18+

SMUT

Oral (F Receiving)

Virginity

Scent kink

Word Count: 1.4k+

Requested?: For Kinktober!

Possessivr and rough scent kink with jasper mayhaps 🫣

A/N: I'm not sure if this really counts as scent kink but… I tried.

-Jasper-

She was sitting in the reading chair in the corner of her room when he slipped silently through her open window. They would have a talk about that later, but for now, he took in the sight of her, reading and clenching her thighs, her hips wiggling just the slightest. She had that look of concentration that screamed that she was reading something rather dirty. 

The fact that she could even act so normally after everything that happened with Victoria baffled him.  

"Y/N." 

She jumped nearly a foot out of the chair, clutching the book to her chest. She was turning red. 

"Jasper!" 

He ignored her and nicked the book from her hands before she could even blink, raising his eyebrows at the page she had been reading. He looked up at her from under his lashes, a smirk on his face. 

"Just what have ya been reading, darlin'?" 

She blushed, standing up quickly to snatch the book back, and he let her. Her eyes darted down to the pages and then back up to him before she could stop herself. He could picture the wheels turning in her head, her thoughts and emotions a jumbled mess. Although one emotion stood out among the rest: lust.

"Noth-nothing." 

"It didn't look like nothin'." 

The scent of her arousal only deepened, and Jasper tensed, fighting against his instincts to devour her on sight. 

He yearned to bury his face somewhere between her thighs and drown himself in her scent, to feel her quiver under his tongue and soft kisses. 

"Jasper?" 

Jasper took a deep breath, trying to calm himself yet again. That was a mistake. She smelled too good, and he felt his self-control snap. 

He was on his knees in front of her before he could think, his hands wrapped firmly around her knees and pushing her gently back into the chair.

"Jasper-" Y/N gasped as he opened her legs and pressed his face into her stomach, breathing her in. 

He groaned against her skin as her arousal flooded his senses even more. It was overwhelming, practically choking him. 

And there would be no one to hold him back this time. Unless, of course, Y/N said no. But Jasper had a hunch that she wouldn't. 

She was leaning back into the chair, her fingers in his hair. She wasn't trying to pull away from him. Y/N seemed to be frozen in shock, her chest heaving as she remained still.

He would have laughed if he could have found the breath. 

"Ya smell like ya need me, darlin'." 

He let out a sigh as he nipped at her inner thigh. Her nails dug into his scalp as she jumped, and he couldn't help but hide a smirk as he nipped a little closer to her heated center. 

"Jasper," she moaned softly, and he felt the wave of desire that rolled through her body. 

He looked up at her, eyes burning. 

"If you don't want this, tell me now." He demanded. 

Y/N shook her head almost violently. 

"Please." She whimpered. 

That was all he needed to hear. 

Jasper closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, suddenly very happy that she was wearing a skirt. It made everything so much easier.

"Let's put your legs on either side of the chair, darlin'."

He helped her get into position, drinking in her nearly exposed pussy, already wet and glistening through the fabric of her lacy panties.

Those panties really needed to go, but all in due time.

He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, grazing his teeth against her skin, and he heard her intake of breath. He moved his hands up under her thighs, holding her steady as he buried his face against her. 

She gasped, a small sound that was accompanied by a low moan as his tongue slid against her inner thigh. He used his nose to push her panties away, slowly licking his way to her pussy and clit. 

Her back arched as she pressed herself into his face, her fingers digging into his scalp and her lips parted.

Shrle was hot and tight, pulsing around his tongue. He could hear her heart pounding, and he could almost taste her blood as it raced through her veins. 

"Fuck." He groaned. "You taste like heaven." 

"Jasper." Y/N whimpered. 

"I'm not letting you go until I've had my fill, Y/N" He looked back up her, eyes darkening until they were nearly black. "You are mine."

His fingers dug into her thighs as he pulled her pussy to his mouth, sucking on her clit and sliding his tongue inside of her again and again as she began to grind against his face. 

He licked and sucked at her, fucking her with his tongue until he felt her legs begin to shake in his hands. 

"Jasper, I'm gonna-" she panted, her breath hitching as her breathing grew heavier, faster.

She went tense for a second, her body shuddering and her fingers twisting in his hair. He could feel her heat against his face, and it brought in another wave of desire. 

He pulled back, feeling her body tremble as she tried to regain control over her breathing and attempting to close her legs, but he wouldn't let her.

"I- what?" She panted. 

"I can smell you." He murmured, leaning forward until their lips were barely brushing. "And it's been driving me crazy ever since I met you." 

"Jasper," she groaned as he pressed her lips to his, sliding his cool tongue into her mouth. 

Y/N's hips bucked as she whimpered. 

"Keep your legs open for me, darlin'."

He smiled against her lips as she obeyed. She even went so far as to open them a little wider, her legs still on the arms of the chair and her skirt sliding further up her hips. 

He nipped at her bottom lip as he slid a hand beneath her panties and pushed his fingers into her. 

"Jasper." She gasped. 

He moved his fingers in slow precision, pumping them in and out of her as she whimpered. He was keeping her on edge, and a sadistic part of him was enjoying it. 

She was close. He could feel it when she started to tighten yet again. 

He pulled his fingers out of her, and she let out a low whine at the loss. Jasper trailed his lips across her cheek and up to her ear. He whispered to her, his voice low and raspy  

"I want ya, darlin'." 

"Jasper…" she whimpered. 

 Fuck. He loved how she said his name. 

He pulled back, making eye contact with her. 

"Tell me ya want me."

Y/N blinked dazedly, her eyes hooded and glazed with lust. Her arms slipped around his neck, pulling him back to her until she was kissing him again.

"I want you," she gasped, her tongue sliding across his lips. "I want you to fuck me, Jasper. I want your cock fucking me deep and hard."

"Fuck."

With a groan, Jasper ripped her panties, barely acknowledging her indignant gasp before he kissed her again. He got rid of his jeans and underclothes quickly, palming his length before he entered her without any further warning. 

Y/N let out a pained groan against his lips, pulling back momentarily to rest her forehead against his.

Her tightness was almost painful, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out. He pushed himself in inch by inch, pausing only when he was fully inside of her. He could feel her slippery heat around him.

He had hurt her. He heard another pained intake of breath as she gritted her teeth and could smell the blood from between her legs. 

Despite that, he started to rock his hips, slowly at first and then faster and harder. Y/N responded by wrapping her legs around his waist, her ankles hooking behind his back. He could feel her nails scraping against his skin, and he knew that she was close. 

He could feel her muscles tremble, her whole body shaking as she came. It was so hot, he could feel her juices coating him as he moved. And then he was gone too, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. 

He collapsed against her, his breathing ragged. He could still hear her soft moaning, could still feel her contract around him as she came. 

They lay there like that for a while, until Jasper moved, picking her up without slipping out of her. Y/N gasped, flinging her arms around him and her pussy tightening around his already hard-again cock. 

"Jasp-" 

He cut her off with a kiss, rocking his hips into her gently. Y/N moaned, her whole body trembling. He kissed his way back to her jaw and neck, nibbling at her pulse point. 

"I think a move to the bed is in order, darlin'." 

{Kinktober}  // {Masterlist}

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[ellecdc]

Black!reader that is “I don’t smoke” (mitski) because if their parents ‘you need to be mean be mean to her me, she I can take it and put it inside of me’

hi babes, this was my take on Black!reader who was always hurting on behalf of everyone else. this fic is very angsty compared to my usual standards, so please keep that in mind before reading, and mind the warnings. of course, as typical on ellecdc we have a happy/hopeful ending

Remus Lupin x Black!sister reader after The Prank™ [4.7k words]

CW: The Prank™, Black family trauma, the Marauders aren't speaking to each other, depressive episodes and self-loathing, siblings get quasi-violent/threats of violence? but for a good cause?, Remus' typical self-loathing, discussion of forgiveness and hatred, breaking up [not pictured] and making up [pictured]

The worst part-

Though, even the thought caused Sirius to scoff humourlessly, because what could possibly be the worst part of this? What could possibly be any ‘more worse’ than the worst thing he’d ever done?

Still, Sirius supposed, wand to his head, the worst thing about all of this would be the fact that Sirius didn’t regret it. Not really.

If anything, he only felt stronger in his conviction that Snape deserved to be mauled violently to death.

Yet…

Yet he didn’t find he felt particularly good about it all; about the way Remus woke up with new, deep, angry scars across his face courtesy of The Wolf who finally had a chance at a meal only to have that stolen before he turned on himself, about the way he looked at Sirius with an expression of pure unadulterated betrayal and then fury when he realised what he had done, about the three well aimed hits he took from James, nor about the way he had to listen through the door as Remus ended your relationship with you, officially giving into all of his deep-seeded self-loathing and beliefs that no one could or should possibly accept him.

And all Sirius managed to do was prove that to be true; that Remus couldn’t trust anyone. And as a result, he robbed you of the only love you had access to save what little you received from Regulus and Sirius.

So perhaps Sirius regretted that, but without access to a Time Turner, there was nothing to be done. 

There was nothing to be done. 

James had told him that “until he made things right with Remus, he wanted nothing to do with him”, and while he didn’t blame James, Sirius knew he was officially on his own because there would be no ‘making things right’. There was nothing right, not with Sirius, at least. 

Everything about Sirius was wrong.

There was nothing to be done. 

He brought the cigarette back up to his lips, the sensitive skin at the corner of his mouth cracking painfully as he took a drag. He appreciated the sting as his teeth started to taste like iron; the pain was both a welcome reminder and a distraction of his inner turmoil as he kept his gaze on the grounds below him.

He couldn’t look at the common room; the red and gold that once felt like home had faded into shades of grey. He couldn’t look in a mirror; his permanently downturned lips and angry eyes found him looking more like his father than he did himself. He couldn’t look at his hands; they were blistered and cracked from his tryst in the forest where he emptied his lungs by screaming until he was choking on air and punching uselessly at a tree.

He couldn’t look at any of his friends, because they couldn’t even look at him; they hated him.

He was hated. 

Sirius began to wonder how many more classes he could miss before McGonagall followed through on her threats to write home when the portrait hole opened.

He couldn’t look, though. Because he was hated.

“Aren’t you meant to be in class?” He heard you call to him, listening to your measured steps as you made your way to his spot on a windowsill. 

“I could ask the same of you.” He gruffed; voice cracking from disuse, from chain smoking, and from the perpetual tightness he had felt since That Night. 

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You sighed; you were exhausted. Exhausted of him. 

He was exhausted too.

“I’m minding my business, Y/N.” He spat back, stubbing out his smoke before lighting another one with a snap of his fingers. “You should try it sometime.” 

With a wave of your hand, the smoke was gone.

“What the fuck?”

“Get up.” You ordered simply, and Sirius shook his head at you.

“Go back to the dungeons.”

“No.” 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Y/N.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Great, neither am I.” 

“I don’t want you here.”

“And I don’t want to be here,” You agreed, voice rising at Sirius’ petulance, “but I’ve got a brother who decided to stop functioning a few weeks ago, so here I am.” 

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“You smell.”

“Yeah well, you’re ugly.” Sirius sneered, pulling out another cigarette only for you to vanish the entire pack. 

“When was the last time you showered?” You demanded, and Sirius refused to look at you.

“Hm? Or changed? Or ate? When’s the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Sirius kept his gaze pointed at the grounds outside. 

“Sirius. Your hair is greasy, you smell stale, you look gaunt, and…they’re going to write home.”

“Good.” Sirius spat quickly. “As they should.”

“Is that what you want, Sirius? You want more people to be mad at you? More people to punish you?”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re already doing that enough for the rest of us.” You sighed, attempting to grab him by the arm only for him to shove you away. 

“Get away from me, Y/N, I mean it.” 

“No, get up.”

“Fuck off.”

“Now.” You nearly growled, and Sirius turned to see you aiming your wand in his direction, surprising a sarcastic laugh from him.

“What? Gonna hex me? Or are you gonna skip right to the Unforgivables, hm? Maybe an imperio? Or are you going to try some negative reinforcement? A crucio for disobedience? Salope stupide, de plus en plus comme ma mère chérie chaque jour.” (translation: stupid bitch, more and more like mother dearest every day)

Sirius flinched as you quickly raised your hand, prepared for a blow that you never landed. 

He looked back to see you standing there, hand poised like it was ready to hit him as you stared at him defiantly; your cool, piercing eyes so much like his own, but the displeased pinch of your mouth was that of your mother. 

“Is that what you want, Sirius? Huh? You want to be walloped a few more times on the nose so that everyone knows what a bad dog you are? You want to be punished for your misdeeds? Maybe get a few more of these?” And you punctuated your question by roughly grabbing at his jaw, fingers pressing into the painful bruises still colouring his cheeks courtesy of James. “That’s why you haven’t bothered healing them, yeah? So that everyone who sees will know what a right bastard you are."

He smacked your hand away with one arm and shoved you away from him with the other. 

“Or,” you continued - rather unphased by Sirius’ aggression - grabbing his balled up fist and bringing it up to your own face, “is it me you want to hit, hm? You want everyone else to hurt just as badly as you are? The world has been just terrible to you Sirius, you were dealt an awful hand! You just want everyone to suffer for it; to pay for the wrongs done to you.”

“Stop it.” Sirius hissed, trying to yank his hand away from you to no avail. 

“Hit me then, Sirius. Hit me. You wanna give into that Black Darkness? Want to be just as bad as they are? Just as bad as they’ve painted you to be? Go ahead.” 

“Stop.” 

“Then get up.” 

“Y/N…” He warned.

“Get up, Sirius.” 

“I hate you.” He spat, and your jaw tightened but you rolled your eyes as if you found him to be quite tiresome.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you very much right now either.” 

He stood then, giving you no time to get out of his way before he was towering over you. You never faltered, though. He let you grab him by the sleeve of his shirt, he let you drag him up the stairs towards his dormitory - somewhere he hadn’t been since That Night, opting instead to sleep on the couches, a time or two in the room of requirement, and one night in the Shrieking Shack as Padfoot - and he let you bodily shove him into the boys’ bathroom. 

“Get in the shower, Sirius.”

“Sunny, please.”

“I’m not asking.” You said firmly. “Get in the shower.”

“I can’t.” 

You swore under your breath as you dragged him over to the shower stall, said nothing as he went no bones and sunk to the floor, and simply turned the shower on, soaking you both.

“Y/N, stop.” 

“Sirius, if you’re not going to take care of yourself, I will. Those are your choices.” You said defiantly, staring down at him as your school uniform became more and more drenched and your hair started sticking to the side of your neck.

Sirius let out a sigh and rested his head against his knees, and you accepted his relenting as the acquiescence it was. 

You pointed the shower head at him and began lathering soap into his hair before doing much the same with the conditioner. 

Sirius let the soap burn his eyes; welcomed it, even. He did nothing to help you with your tasks, though you didn’t ask him to. He did, however, draw the line at you trying to disrobe him.

“These need to come off, Sirius.” You said, pulling at his uniform shirt like something disgusting you found in a gutter.

“And I will take them off once you’re no longer staring at me.” He growled, causing you to scoff a humourless laugh.

“Like hells I’m letting you out of my sight again.”

Sirius simply groaned. 

“How are you going to wash your body, Sirius? Please don’t tell me you’re going to make me do that too.”

Sirius ripped the bar of soap out of your hands and glared at you as he shoved it beneath his clothes, washing himself the best he could under his sopping wet uniform. 

Though he was more than likely still sudsy, you shut the water off and vanished what water you could from both of your beings; each of your heads and uniforms still dripping wet as you flung open the bathroom door and marched across the hall.

Sirius’ mouth ran dry when you knocked on their dormitory door; somewhere between you confronting him in the common room and forcing him to bathe, classes seemed to have ended. 

He should’ve flung himself out of the common room window when he had the chance; he couldn’t see Remus, James, or Peter. They hated him.

He was hated.

Remus wouldn’t talk to any of them, and James and Peter weren’t talking to Sirius. Even though Remus had told them he didn’t want them “taking sides”, he didn’t seem too bothered watching Sirius get iced out. 

Because he hated him.

Sirius was hated. 

“Oh…hi, Y/N…” James offered awkwardly as he opened the door. 

You barely spared him a glance. “Potter.” You greeted simply as you dipped under his arm which had been holding the door open and marched towards Sirius’ bed. 

Remus pulled his head through the hole of his jumper as he watched you start digging through Sirius’ trunk, sharing a quick glance with James and Peter before his gaze moved to Sirius all but cowering in the doorframe. 

“Are you…wet?” Peter asked cautiously then, all three boys staring at you in bemusement as you packed up a duffle. 

“Yeah.” You responded simply, throwing Sirius a towel that he (thankfully) caught as everyone’s eyes fell to him. 

Sirius quickly ran the towel over his person as you let his trunk close with a loud thunk, hiked the bag you packed for him over your shoulder, and stalked out of the dorm room without sparing any of the boys - including your ex boyfriend - a passing glance. 

“Don’t you hate me?” Sirius whispered as he allowed you to lead him to the Slytherin dorms.

“No, Sirius. I hate what you did.” You sighed, never faltering in your steps but strengthening your hold on your brother's wrist. “I love you, that’s why I’m here.” 

Remus had tried telling Peter and James to leave him alone; he wanted to be alone. 

Yet somehow, every morning, the two of them would sit across from him in the Great Hall, say hello, and then talk amongst themselves whilst pretending he wasn’t there. 

That was fine, though. Remus was sort of pretending he wasn’t there, too. 

But while Remus could ignore James and Peter’s existence, Sirius’ existence, and even his own if he really tried hard enough, he couldn’t ignore your existence. 

He’d been more than slightly confused when you stormed into his dorm room last night completely drenched without your eyes ever cutting to him and packed up a bag for your equally drenched brother. 

He’d been more than slightly hurt when you left without sparing him a glance, too. Though he figured perhaps he deserved that. This is what he wanted, right?

Scratch that, actually, what he had wanted was to be safe and loved and protected by the people who promised to do that for him. That was what he had wanted.

It wasn’t until Peter and James paused in their conversation to look at Remus concernedly that he realised he had caused his tea to overflow by means of accidental magic. 

Remus threw a wad of napkins at the mess as he made to stand, but his legs felt wholly incapable of holding him up when he saw you enter the Great Hall, quickly followed by a rather dispirited looking Sirius who nearly bumped into you as you paused at the entrance.

Your gaze automatically fell to the Slytherin table where Regulus was shooting you and Sirius a perturbed look. 

You turned then towards the Gryffindor table when your gaze fell to Remus.

He found himself unable to break your gaze; he wondered if you could see the heartbreak pooling in his eyes, or the longing painted in the space between his brows.

He wondered if you could even manage to see past the new, ferocious scars decorating his face.

He certainly couldn’t. 

Your shoulders fell as you shook your head - so minutely that Remus wondered if he had only imagined it - before you grabbed Sirius’ sleeve and dragged him towards the Ravenclaw table where both Pandora and Benjy accepted the pair of you without issue. 

He was simultaneously grateful that neither of you were sitting over here and furious that the two of you deigned to sit anywhere else. You were his; his friend, and his girlfriend, you were supposed to be here with him. 

But he didn’t want either of you over here, he didn’t want… 

He didn’t…

“Moony?” James asked cautiously.

“Don’t call me that.” Remus spat before he stood abruptly and stormed out of the Great Hall. 

He never wanted any of this; sure, he wanted to go to school, but he never wanted friends. He didn’t need friends, he’d never had them before. He met some kind kids on the train who ended up being his roommates, but he was ready and willing to hold them at arm's length. 

And then…

And then he found that he rather liked their company, and that they seemed to enjoy his. And then he found that he cared for them, and that they seemed to care for him. And then they found out, and they were accepting of him. And then they did the impossible and found a way to be there for him like no one else before, they showed up for him in ways no one else had ever tried, in ways he never imagined possible. 

And then he fell in love, and then…

And then. 

And then one of the worst people Remus could imagine to know learned of his darkest secret, his biggest shame, his lifelong curse. 

And he learned that from one of his best friends; Snape learned of Remus’ darkest secret, biggest shame, and lifelong curse from one of his best friends. 

And suddenly, everything everyone had ever said about lycanthropy was true; he was a monster, unloveable, a threat and hazard to everyone around him.

And as he paused in front of a window where he could see his reflection - three violent claw marks stretching from his left eye across the bridge of his nose down over his lips - the monster stared back at him. 

He was a beast. He was a monster playing dress up; cosplaying as a wizard day in and day out when in reality, deep down, he was a vicious, disgusting freak. 

And now everyone knew it; Sirius knew it, you knew it, Snape knew it.

And for those who didn’t know it, they could suspect it; rumours flying around of how Remus managed to be mauled by some creature and survive to tell the tale, because the only thing scarier than a beast among men is a man that can take on a beast and live to tell the tale.

The worst part-

But the thought made Remus snort humourlessly, because really, how could there be a worst part of any of this? What could possibly be ‘more worse’ than the worst thing to ever happen to him, second only to being bitten all those years ago. 

But Remus supposed, wand to his head, that the worst part of all of this was losing you.

Remus let out another humourless chuckle as he let his head fall with a thunk against the windowpane. 

And the absolute fucking kicker was that losing you had been his own doing. 

For the first time in perhaps five days, you were alone. 

You sat in the farthest corner of the library near rows of tomes with enough layers of dust on them to promise you some solitude as you waited for Sirius’ meeting with McGonagall to end. 

You’d convinced him (rather forced him) to start attending his classes again, though you were certain he wasn’t exactly a delight to have in the classroom at the moment. You only hoped it was enough for the school to refrain from writing home.

You dropped your quill and pressed your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars. Sirius was displeased with you for ordering him about. Regulus was displeased with you for babysitting Sirius and ‘cleaning up’ after him. Your parents were displeased with you seemingly because you were born with free will. Your professors were displeased with you for submitting sloppy work because you spent the majority of your time doing Sirius’ for him in order to keep him from being expelled. Your roommates were displeased with you for smuggling a dog into your room for the past week, even though he was very well behaved and slept dutifully on the end of your bed. And Remus…

And Remus. 

He had looked so hollow and… dead when he told you this needed to end, that he couldn’t see you anymore. You didn’t think he was capable of occlusion, but that was the only thing that could possibly explain how he could manage to look at you like you didn’t even matter to him anymore.

Perhaps you didn’t.

You didn’t matter. 

Perhaps you were too much like your brother; he couldn’t forgive him, so you were unforgivable too. Perhaps you were just too much of a Black for him; perhaps he realised the mistake in keeping your kind around. 

You couldn’t blame him, you supposed.

You were a tiresome bunch. You didn’t often want to keep your kind around, either. 

You shook yourself out of your pity party and returned to your notes, only to watch as Remus pulled out a chair opposite of you at your table. 

“The library’s plenty large, Lupin; I’m sure if you looked harder you could find another table.” you offered, hoping for indignation but landing somewhere around disheartened. 

“Is Sirius alright?” He murmured quietly, and you forced your eyes up to meet his. 

He looked dead tired; his eyes were sunken and his skin was missing its warm glow. But in his eyes laid an earnestness that had you remembering just how wholly safe and full you felt whenever you found yourself pinned beneath his gaze. 

You quickly looked away.

“Not really.” You replied honestly. “But I think he deserves that.” 

Remus made a noncommittal sound as he continued staring at the top of your head; you couldn’t see it, mind you, but you could certainly feel it.

“And you?” 

“What about me?”

“Are you alright?”

“Why?” You demanded, and you looked up in time to see Remus finally look down into his lap. 

You stared at him as he wrung his hands in his lap while you catalogued the scars across his face. You wondered if where they landed over his eyes caused him any vision issues. You wondered what the ones over the bridge of his nose would feel like as you traced your fingertip over them. You wondered what the ones on his lips might feel like under your own. 

You hated them, knowing that he did too, knowing how he came to have them. But you loved them because they were his, because it was him. Because you loved him. 

“Are you alright?” You decided to ask then, and he looked up at you as if he was surprised you were still there.

“No.” He responded quickly.

“I’m sorry.” You offered, though you knew not what for. You really hadn’t done anything. 

“How-” Remus started, though he quickly looked back down at his hands as he searched for the words.

You waited for him. 

“How…can you help him?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow, because whatever you thought Remus might’ve been about to ask, it certainly wasn’t that. 

“What?” You asked dumbly. 

“How can you help Sirius? After all that he’s done?” He continued gently.

“I… because, Remus, someone has to.” 

Remus nodded as he considered your response. “There’s a… part of me that feels as though you’re choosing him over me.” 

“Remus. You chose; you made that decision for me. I didn’t choose anyone’s side.”

“So if we were still dating right now, would you have forgiven Sirius?”

“Forgiven?” You repeated incredulously. “Who said anything about forgiveness?” 

Remus simply blinked at you owlishly. 

“Remus, I cannot just sit here and let him whither away into nothing because I’m mad at him. He fucked up - big time - there’s no question about it. And deep down, I know he knows that too; that’s why he’s been torturing himself over it. There is no way in which I could treat him that would be worse than the way he’s treating himself right now. But I-”

You shook your head as you fought off the stinging in your sinuses; you did not want to cry in front of him. 

“There is no one rooting for us, Remus. No one. You’re pissed at him - rightfully so, and completely justified - Potter and Pettigrew are pissed at him too, he’s pissed at himself and I… someone has to, Remus. Someone has to root for him, I can’t…I can’t just abandon him, not when there’s no one else.” 

“I can’t… I can’t feel bad for him, Y/N.” Remus exclaimed helplessly. 

“I’m not asking you to; I’m simply telling you why I do.” 

“I don’t…I don’t know how to forgive him, dove, I don’t know how to not hate him for this.” He nearly sobbed, holding his hands out helplessly as if the grief and torment were tangible things that he could crush in the palm of his hands if only he could catch them. “Why don’t you hate him? Please tell me? Because I genuinely want to know. I need to know - I don’t…I don’t want to hate him.” 

“He’s my brother, Rem.” You said simply, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “I hate what he’s done, I hate the choice he made, I hate the outcome of that choice, I hate what he did to you, I hate what that’s done to me, but… but I don’t hate him. I can't hate him.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a while; the only sounds coming from the odd book being magically sent back to its shelf and the odd voices from students downstairs when a study group got a touch too boisterous. 

“Do you hate me?” Remus whispered then; your eyes flit up to meet his which were already steady on you. 

“No, Remus.” You whispered back.

He nodded as his gaze fell. “Just what I did?” 

Your lip quirked in the faintest ghost of a smirk. “Yes I…I sort of hated that, I suppose.” 

“I don’t want to hate him.” He repeated.

“I know.” 

“Do you-” Remus paused, turning away and screwing his eyes shut as you realised he was crying. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?”

“Remus…”

“I was scared, and hurt, and angry, and-” he hiccuped, reaching across the table as he nearly begged for your hand. You gave it willingly. “-and I hated him but I mostly hated myself.”

“I know, Rem.”

“Please? Do you…do you think you’d be able to forgive me? For leaving, for running, for abandoning you? You’ve never once given up on the people important to you and one bad thing happens to me and…and I just throw you away, I-” He looked at you as if he was only realising all of this now; hurt, frustration, anger, and betrayal all on your behalf flickered behind his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Remus.” You insisted, but he quickly shook his head at you. 

“It’s not; it’s not okay, I- … I’m not as gracious as you, clearly, but I just…I just feel like if you’re strong enough to forgive me then there’s…there’s hope for me, too. That maybe I can be strong enough to forgive Sirius.” 

“You’re forgiven, Remus.” 

His eyes fell shut as more tears fell, but you were sure it was more from relief than it was from pain. 

Both boys - Remus and Sirius - were so good at torturing themselves over choices they’ve made that you were certain no one else would ever have to as long as they both should live. 

And for different reasons, you loved them both beyond measure. 

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.” Remus whispered.

“Of course you do.” You countered, squeezing his hand in yours and watching as some of the tension in his shoulders dissipated. 

“Does Sirius?” He asked quietly, keeping his eyes pointed at where your joined hands sat on the table between you. 

You’re not sure when or how you became the leading expert on conflict resolution and forgiveness; perhaps it was in refereeing Sirius and Regulus’ petty squabbles growing up, perhaps it was in shielding Regulus from your parents fury, perhaps it was in trying to tame Sirius enough to keep him out of trouble, perhaps it was in being the youngest cousin along with Regulus and watching the siblings before you find their own ways to define what was right and good, perhaps…perhaps it came from the many examples of conflict and spite that you had witnessed growing up.

“I don’t know, Rem.” You answered honestly. “I think…I think the only one who can really know that is you.”

If he was displeased by your answer, he didn’t show it.

“But,” you continued cautiously, “I don’t think you have to forgive him for what he’s done. You just have to decide whether you’re going to hate him for it or love him in spite of it.” 

His lips pursed, pulling at scars both new and old in ways you’re not sure you’d ever grow tired of watching, as he nodded. “I don’t want to hate him.”

“I know, Rem.” 

“I don’t want James or Peter to hate him either…I don’t know why they were willing to watch him wither away like that.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at that; the first genuine smile since That Night. “They don’t, and they weren’t.” You countered, only moving to explain when he looked at you in bemusement. “They were the ones who told me how bad he was getting…they wanted to make sure someone was looking after him without giving into his pity party.” 

“Always taking care of everyone else, hm?” Remus murmured at you, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a delicate kiss to your knuckles. 

You simply hummed noncommittally. 

“Can I return the favour?”

“You can certainly try, but I’m quite high maintenance.” You teased gently. 

“That’s alright.” He agreed quickly. “You’re more than worth the effort.” 

You breathed out a quiet laugh through your nose. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

[fxrmuladaydreams]

“i liked your beard”

charles x reader

summary: you’re disappointed to learn that charles shaved his beard

notes: this is completely self indulgent, because i already really miss the beard

warnings: !! ALLUSIONS TO SMUT !! oral (f receiving), subby charles

wc: 426

“Hello mon amour.”

You feel an arm wrap around your waist and smile subconsciously at the warm body pressing against your back. You lean against the kitchen counter, smiling to yourself as he presses a kiss to your neck.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, missing the ticklish feeling you’ve grown accustomed to with his kisses. You turn around, still in his hold, and your smile falls from your face.

Charles, unaware of your shift in mood, leans down to kiss you, but stops when his lips meet the finger you’ve placed in front of you.

“You shaved…” You murmur to yourself.

He laughs. “Yeah, it was getting scratchy.”

You take his chin between your fingers, feeling his soft skin. You move his face around, as if inspecting him.

“I liked your beard…”

“It will grow back.” He shrugs, then leans down to try for another kiss.

You gently push him away, a frown on your face.

“Mon cœur, please.” He sighs. “Let me kiss you.” He whines, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

“I liked your beard.” You tell him again.

“I’m sorry I shaved. But you can’t possibly be that mad at me.”

You cross your arms over your chest and pout. “I’m going to miss it.”

“Miss it? You hated it!” He laughs. “You said it scratched your face!”

“It did…” You take a step towards him. “But I liked when it scratched… other places…”

You watch as the realization catches up to Charles. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“It always left pretty red marks on my thighs… reminding me of you…”

“It will still be good mon amour, I promise.” He says, his grip on your waist tightening. “Do you need me to prove it to you?” His words are teasing, but his tone almost sounds like he’s begging, asking for your permission.

“I think you should, yes.” You nod, smirking as he sinks down to his knees.

His hands find the top of your pants, hooking his thumbs in them so he can pull them down your legs.

“And Charles?” You pull on the hair on top of his head, making him look up at you. His bright eyes already clouding over. “Find some other way to leave your mark.”

He nods quickly, then gets to work. Needless to say, he made sure that you felt just as good as you did when he still had his beard, and left a few purple bruises on your inner thighs for you to find later.