#so it revealed me and i was running away from it and i pulled a yak

[gf2bellamy]

love — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer accidentally reveals your secret relationship by kissing you in front of the whole team—oh, and blurting out “I love you” for the very first time, too. content warnings: secret relationship , mention of a case , spencer being very worried about the unsub and case but its mostly fluff !! a/n: haiiii !!!!! hope you didn't miss my secret relationship fanfics too much </3 also i finished writing this like 10 minutes ago but i was too excited not to post it

Things were heating up.

You were getting closer—so close—to catching the unsub. The map was sprawled across the table in front of you, dotted with red circles.You traced another location with your marker, murmuring quietly under your breath, a habit you'd most definitely picked up from your boyfriend.

Spencer was nearby, slouched in a chair, mumbling to himself in a similar fashion.

His brows were furrowed. You could tell this case was hitting him harder than most. Maybe it reminded him of something—or someone.

Whatever it was, it weighed on him, and that meant it weighed on you, too.

You took care of him as much as you could—though it wasn’t easy with your relationship still hidden from the team. Last night, you’d slipped into his hotel room after everyone else had turned in, finding him already buried in files.

You didn’t ask if he was okay—he wouldn’t have answered honestly. Instead, you’d wordlessly sat beside him on the bed, running your fingers through his hair until his shoulders finally relaxed.

“Want to cuddle?” you’d murmured, and he hadn’t even hesitated before nodding, letting you pull him down against the pillows. He’d tucked himself under your chin, his breath warm against your collarbone, and you’d held him, fingers carding gently through his curls until his breathing evened out.

Of course, sneaking out at 6 a.m. had been its own mission. It took you twenty minutes to escape Spencer’s sleepy, koala-like grip. He kept murmuring thank-yous against your skin—kisses trailing from your collarbones to your jaw, like punctuation marks of affection. It had taken everything in you not to crawl back into bed with him.

Now, back in the briefing room, you had even more reason to catch this unsub.

"I got it." Spencer’s voice broke through the silence.

His head snapped up, and the words came pouring out of him like a dam breaking. Facts, patterns, dates, connections. The rest of the team, who had been working in exhausted silence, immediately turned their attention to him, hanging onto every word.

“Okay. Morgan and Reid—I want you with me,” Hotch announced the moment Spencer finished unraveling the unsub’s pattern.

Garcia’s fingers flew across her keyboard, sending the coordinates to their phones in a flurry of clicks. This was one of those rare, high-stakes cases where even she had to join them in the field. “Location’s live on your devices,” she said, her usual bubbly tone subdued.

Hotch gave her a curt nod of thanks before striding toward the door, Morgan right behind him.

Spencer, however, seemed miles away as he snatched his brown coat from the back of his chair. His mind was already elsewhere, locked onto the unsub.

Then, just before following the others, he turned to you.

You were still standing by the board, capping the dry-erase marker with a soft click and watching him with a soft, worried smile. He seemed exhausted.

“Be careful,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, as if snapping back into himself for just a second, and mumbled, “I’ll be okay. I’ll see you later.”

His fingers caught your chin, thumb beneath your jaw, index curled gently under your bottom lip. Time stuttered. His kiss was fleeting, achingly tender, and then his lips brushed yours again as he whispered, "I love you," like it was the simplest truth in the world.

And then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating silence.

A pin drop would’ve echoed like a gunshot.

And then—

“Oh. my. god.” Garcia’s shriek could’ve shattered glass.

Your fingers flew to your lips, still tingling from the ghost of his kiss. The rest of the team was frozen—Rossi’s eyebrows had nearly disappeared into his hairline, JJ’s mouth was slightly open, and Emily looked like she was torn between laughing and demanding an immediate explanation.

But you barely registered any of it.

Because Spencer had just said I love you.

For the first time.

And he’d done it in front of everyone.

Garcia was already flailing her hands, rapid-fire questions spilling out of her—“Since when? How did I not know? Oh my god, the touching, the lingering looks, the—!”

But all you could hear was the echo of his voice, playing over and over in your mind like a broken record.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Your face burned. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

You didn’t even notice Emily waving her hand in front of your face until her voice cut through the haze. “Earth to lovergirl,” she teased, grinning.

Blinking, you turned toward the team—all of them staring at you with varying degrees of shock, amusement, and sheer anticipation.

“What?” you managed, voice still breathless.

“That’s all you have to say?” JJ asked, plopping onto the edge of the desk in disbelief. She grabbed a Cheeto from an open bag, crunching loudly.

Garcia was still gaping at you, hands pressed dramatically over her mouth. Behind her colorful glasses, her eyes were massive. Rossi sipped his coffee slowly, clearly judging the entire situation.

“Huh?” you repeated dumbly.

Emily’s smirk softened just a fraction. “You okay?”

You stared at her, still dazed, before muttering, “He said ‘I love you.’”

Another beat of silence.

Garcia gasped. “That was his first time saying it?” Her hands flew away from her mouth, gripping the sides of her head like she might explode.

And then chaos. Again.

“Oh my god—”

“Since when—”

“Wait, wait, wait—that was the first—”

You spent what felt like hours fielding an avalanche of questions, barely able to catch your breath between them. At first, you tried to dodge them—played dumb, gave vague smiles, busied yourself with the files on the table—but it was pointless. Garcia saw straight through you, pinning you with a look that practically screamed, You’re not getting out of this, sweetheart.

So you caved.

“Six months,” you said quietly.

The collective gasp could’ve knocked over the coffee pot.

Garcia clutched her chest like she’d been personally betrayed. ( She was. ) “Six?! Six whole months? And you didn’t say anything?”

You winced. “We were trying to be subtle.”

“You failed!” she cried, throwing her hands up.

Emily laughed. “Okay, next—who made the first move?”

You hesitated, cheeks burning. “He did.”

Another round of dramatic gasps echoed around the room. Even Rossi raised his brows, murmuring, “Didn’t peg him for the bold one.”

“He’s… not. Not usually,” you admitted with a smile you couldn’t quite suppress. “But with me… I guess he was.”

And on it went—question after question, as if they were making up for six months of missed gossip in a single sitting. But despite your initial resistance, you couldn’t deny the warm buzz beneath your skin. It was messy, chaotic, borderline embarrassing—but it was also kind of nice. Being known. Being happy.

Then came the final question.

JJ’s voice was quieter than the others, softer. “Do you love him too?”

You froze.

For a moment, the whole room seemed to hold its breath. Even Garcia stopped typing.

You looked at JJ—then down at your hands—then back up again. And nodded.

Garcia screeched, practically launching herself out of her chair. “I knew it!” she howled.

Emily beamed, her smile so wide it crinkled the corners of her eyes, and even Rossi let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like a proud, mildly exasperated uncle.

You were a little overwhelmed—okay, maybe a lot—but underneath the chaos, you also felt a sheer amount of happiness that you've never felt before.

Hotch interrupted the moment by calling Garcia. “Unsub’s in custody. We’re on our way back. Everyone’s okay.”

Your breath left you in a rush. Spencer was okay.

Your heart, though—it hadn’t quite gotten the message. It was still thundering in your chest, hammering against your ribs with every second that ticked by.

The others must’ve noticed the way you kept glancing at the door, because JJ finally nudged you gently toward it. “Go wait. We’ll clean up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Garcia waved a dismissive hand. “Honey, please. You’ve got heart-eyes so intense it’s blinding. Go stand dramatically in the doorway like you’re in a movie or something. We’ve got this.”

And so you did.

You found yourself hovering in the doorway of the conference room, a half-hearted folder in your hands, pretending to sort through paperwork as you stared through the glass. Watching. Waiting.

Then you heard it—the low rumble of the SUV pulling up outside.

Every head in the room snapped up like it was choreographed. Honestly, for a team of professional FBI agents, they acted like a bunch of high schoolers most of the time.

You glanced back over your shoulder. Sure enough, all of them were watching you, wide-eyed and waiting like you were the final act in a romantic drama. You rolled your eyes with a half-smile, dropped the stack of files onto the table with a soft thud, and walked out of the conference room.

As you left, you heard Emily mutter, “Garcia, don’t follow her.”

You didn’t wait to hear the response.

The moment you reached the main hallway of the precinct, the doors opened—and there he was.

Spencer stepped inside, his curls slightly mussed, cheeks flushed from the cold, and as soon as his eyes found yours, he smiled. That gentle, crooked smile that always made you smile.

You barely registered Derek behind him, hand gripping the cuffed unsub and throwing you a confused look when you didn’t even acknowledge him. Even Hotch glanced over in surprise as you made a beeline for Spencer.

“Hey—wait, what—?” Spencer managed, eyes widening as you grabbed his arm and all but dragged him down the corridor.

You shoved open the nearest empty office, tugged him inside, and closed the door firmly behind you, leaning back against it.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, your voice urgent, breath a little uneven.

Spencer blinked. “Mean what?”

You stared at him in stunned disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“What?” he said again, completely baffled. “What did I do? Did Morgan tell you about what happened in the field? I know I wasn’t supposed to go near the unsub without backup, but I swear, I had it under control—”

He started to ramble, hands gesturing as he pouted in that way he did when he was simultaneously nervous and a little too proud of himself. “He had a weapon, but I de-escalated him. You would’ve been proud.”

“You did what?” you interrupted, your mind now juggling two emotional crises.

Spencer blinked again. “Wait—so Morgan didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you muttered, your voice flat with disbelief. 

You shook your head slowly, trying to process it all. The nerves, the kiss, the I love you—and the fact that Spencer genuinely hadn’t realized what he’d done.

Spencer’s expression shifted from confusion to concern in a heartbeat. “Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something wrong?”

His voice was careful, gentle, and far too kind for how scrambled your brain felt. “Can you tell me what it is?” he added, tilting your chin up just enough so your eyes met his.

Your mouth opened slightly, but the words were stuck. How could he not know? How could he be looking at you like that—all wide eyes and soft brows and worried lips—and not know?

“Spencer,” you said finally, his name sharp on your tongue.

“Yes?” he replied immediately, those puppy-dog eyes locking onto yours like he was bracing for impact.

“You kissed me.”

His brows pulled together. “I’m—I’m sorry?” he said, clearly confused.

If you weren’t so worked up, you might have laughed at his face. But your heart was hammering, and your nerves were tangled in knots.

“You did it in front of everyone,” you clarified.

And then you said it—softly, barely above a whisper. “And then you said—”

“I love you.” His voice cut in before you could finish.

You watched as the memory clearly snapped back into place. Realization washed over his face like a wave, followed immediately by a bright, burning blush that crept up his neck and across his cheeks.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, nodding slowly, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you studied his reaction.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, eyes wide, flustered in a way that only made you want to kiss him senseless. “Oh,” he breathed, glancing away for a second before meeting your eyes again. 

“Yeah… oh.” you repeated. Both of you stayed silent for a second.

“I did mean it,” he stammered out.

A smile tugged at your lips—finally. After an hour and a half of bouncing knees, chewed lips, and an anxiety storm running circles in your chest, the words you’d been dying to hear had finally landed.

“I love you,” Spencer repeated, a little firmer this time—like he needed to hear it aloud again to make it real. Like maybe saying it twice would help his brain catch up to his heart.

The warmth that bloomed inside you was instant. Like sunshine pouring into your bloodstream. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt this happy in your entire life.

Then, of course, Spencer kept talking.

“Did I say it too soon? I’m not sure. On average, men say it around three to three and a half months into a relationship, while women usually wait closer to four months,” he rambled, already blushing furiously, eyes darting anywhere but your face. “And I know we’ve been dating for six months, so technically it took me twice as long, which isn’t statistically ideal, but honestly I almost said it on our first date, which definitely wouldn’t have been optimal and—”

He was spiraling. Fast.

So you did the only thing that would shut him up.

You stepped forward, gently grabbed his face in both hands, and said, soft but certain:

“I love you too, Spencer.”

He stared.

Just stared—like he was trying to memorize this exact moment, burn it into his brain with all its warmth and disbelief and wonder. You watched his expression shift—first stunned, then relieved, then something so bright and boyish it made your heart lurch.

You’d never seen him so happy before.

Well—once. That first time you kissed him. He’d looked a little like this, dazed and blissed out. But now? Now he looked like his whole world had just clicked into place.

“Yeah?” he breathed, voice shaky with excitement, his grin stretching so wide it practically crinkled his entire face.

“Yeah.” You laughed through the word, nodding, the emotion bubbling up in your chest and spilling into every part of you. Your smile was a mirror of his.

Spencer let out a breathy laugh and pulled you into him, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he couldn’t stand the idea of space between you anymore. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, grinning against his skin.

“This is real, right?” he asked into your hair, voice muffled. “I’m not dreaming? Because sometimes I do dream about you saying that and then I wake up and it’s just—”

You cut him off with a kiss to the warm skin of his throat.

“It’s definitely real,” you mumbled against him.

Spencer let out a shaky breath and held you tighter. You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, both of you grinning like idiots. It felt absurdly, wonderfully perfect.

Then you muttered into his neck, “You do know you outed our relationship to everyone, right?”

Spencer’s arms stiffened around you just slightly. “Yeah. Totally. I knew that. I did it on purpose,” he lied, too quickly, voice pitched a little too high.

You giggled and pulled back, hands still resting on either side of his neck. “You’re a terrible liar, Dr. Reid.”

He didn’t even bother to defend himself, just gave you an adorable, crooked grin and leaned in to peck your lips. “Yeah, I am,” he mumbled, brushing his nose against yours.

You kissed him back, just once, then poked a finger into the center of his chest. “Also, we’re going to talk about your little superhero stunt at home.”

Spencer blinked. “Right,” he echoed, suddenly very aware of his earlier reckless attempt to talk the unsub down without backup. “Are you mad?”

“I’m not not mad,” you replied, giving him a look. “But I love you, so I’m saving the full lecture for later.”

He winced slightly, then smiled. “Fair.”

You let your fingers drift through the curls on his forehead, brushing them back gently. “Well,” you sighed, “for now, we have to go out there… into the land of chaos and gossip.”

Realization dawned slowly on Spencer’s face. His eyes widened. “Oh no. Garcia definitely filled Morgan in already.”

“And Rossi’s probably already told Hotch,” you added grimly.

“And JJ and Emily—”

“—were there when it happened,” you finished.

You both stood there in mutual silence for a moment, dread creeping in.

Spencer cleared his throat. “Maybe we could… go out the window?”

You laughed, smacking his chest lightly. “Nice try, genius.”

He gave a helpless little shrug. “I had to try.”

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the handle of the door behind you.

“Ready?” you asked.

“Absolutely not,” Spencer said without hesitation.

You squeezed his hand anyway. “Come on, lover boy.”

To say that the conference room was chaos would’ve been an understatement.

Garcia let out a sound that could only be described as a squeal-gasp hybrid, immediately launching into a breathless, high-speed barrage of questions that involved timelines and pet names.

Morgan clapped Spencer on the back so hard he nearly stumbled, muttering something about “my boy finally growing up.” JJ just smirked from the corner, quietly sipping her coffee.

Hotch had walked by at one point, muttered something that suspiciously sounded like “About time,” and kept moving without missing a beat.

The jet ride was somehow worse.

You’d sat next to Spencer, hoping for a quiet, post-case decompression. Instead, you were subjected to Garcia and Morgan playing twenty questions from across the aisle. Rossi, pretending to read, chuckled behind his wine glass the entire time. At one point, you tried to rest your head on Spencer’s shoulder, and he’d blushed so hard you thought he might combust.

You weren’t sure if he was embarrassed from the attention or just overwhelmed from finally saying what he’d been keeping in for months. Probably both.

But the days that followed?

Even worse.

Because the teasing never stopped.

Emily sent you heart emojis during briefings. Morgan kept calling Spencer lover boy—which you regretted giving him the vocabulary for. Garcia had created a mood board on her computer and refused to delete it.

Even Hotch raised an eyebrow when you asked to share a rental car with Spencer.

But through it all, Spencer stayed by your side. Every awkward joke, every embarrassing comment, every not-so-subtle glance—he never flinched. If anything, he leaned into it. He held your hand in the bullpen and he kissed your cheek at the end of the day.

It was domestic chaos.

Romantic disaster. Beautiful, awkward, completely perfect hell.

[adoralineangel]

—AFTER HOURS

drew starkey smut

content warnings— 18+ mdni, afab!reader, strong language, explicit sexual content (handjob, unprotected sex, drew being a boob guy?), not proofread

drew inhales deeply as you press yourself down, immensely aware of how your cheeks are flushed and your breath uneven. you let your fingers roam down his chest, revealing his bare hip bone and the line of sandy brown hair that travels all the way down to his hard cock.

slipping your fingers down a bit lower, you graze over the rigid vein of his cock. a strangled moan leaves drew's puffy lips, his body instantly tenses.

"christ—" he groans as you tighten your hand's grip, teasingly moving from his base to his tip, using his precum as lubricant.

drew hates it when you tease— quickly reaching forward to grab your thighs, he urges you to move closer. a shiver runs down your spine from his possessive grip, letting him easily move you.

now straddling him, with your knees pressed against the mattress and on both sides of his hips— you can feel all of him, hot and hard.

drew's eyes rake over your bare skin, your soft tits resting in front of his face. he leans in, wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled nipples licking and sucking.

"fuck," you moan, your hand moving from his cock to his hair as you grip onto the soft strands.

drew moans around your tits, his hips arching deeper, pressing just right against your clit.

you pull away quick enough to replace your tits with your mouth, your tongue darting out and deepening the kiss. drew's tongue immediately matches yours, moaning. you swallow them all, the roughness of his stubble deliciously scratching your lips.

drew breaks the kiss, giving himself enough time to hastily push his cock into your cunt. letting out a guttural groan, his head falls back against the headboard as you fully sink yourself onto him, taking him in completely. a gasp leaves your mouth, you feel so full of him.

his hands digs into your hips, guiding your movements as he chokes out, "fuck," his eyes full blown of desire.

you lean forward, your breasts against his chest as you start to move. you slightly lift your hips, beginning a slow and purposeful rhythm. drew eagerly meets your movements, with his hands guiding your hips, his breath against your neck.

"mmgh, fuck drew—" you moan, letting him take control as he thrusts up into you.

moaning at the sound of his name, drew lifts his head and finds the crook of your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses until his lips were next to your ears.

"You feel so good," he groans, his voice deep. his hands that are still on your hips tighten, moving you faster as his thrusts get harder.

one of drew's hands leaves your hips, coming up to tangle into your hair as he continues his hard thrusts that have you moaning out incoherent babbles.

"right— right there! oh fuck!" you whine, holding onto his broad shoulders as he takes you the way he wants.

drew groans, his movements never faltering. he adjusts the angle, his hips moving even more purposefully, knowing that he can find the spot that makes you crazy. "feels good, yeah? you like that?" he asks, his voice strained.

"mhm, yes, yes!" you whimper, pleasure quickly overwhelming your senses, and you can feel the familiar heat pool inside your belly. unable to hold your head up any longer, your left cheek finds his— the roughness of his stubble makes it almost unbearable.

your legs are trembling, unable to keep up with his brutal rhythm. drew's grip on you tighens, his fingers digging into your hips as he sets a faster and deeper pace than before. you could feel him in your gut, every thrust sending you closer and closer to the brink of your orgasm.

"baby, shit— gonna f'cking cum," drew groans, his movements becoming sloppy. he was close, you could feel it in the way he moved inside of you.

"drew— please...please cum in me! i need it, need 's so bad!" you whine, your needy words igniting him as he brutally slams his thick cock into your tight pussy.

"g'nna fill you up, yeah?" his words are purposeful and undeniably going to make you cum from that alone.

his words were your undoing, the band in your belly snapping as your orgasm washes over you from head to toe. with your nails digging into his shoulders, your head falling back, a broken whimper leaves your lips.

your orgasm sets his off, causing drew to tense as he thrusts one last time— releasing warm cum deep inside of you.

you couldn't move, barely able to form one coherent thought. your mind only consisting on how fucking lucky you were that you had a man who knew how to properly fuck you. with his sticky cum leaking from your pussy and sweat that rested on your forehead, you know you'd let this man do whatever he wanted with you.

[universefcb]

hiii! could you write something angsty/fluff with pau cubarsi 😔🤧? where he comforts reader, who has some toxic friends who only look for her when they need something and even if they hurt her, she can't get away from them. thank uuu ♡

I NEVER FELT SO ALONE, PAU CUBARSÍ.

→ Summary: You have toxic friendships, and you cry in his arms.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader. Fluff/angsty. Romance.

→ Author's note: I'll try my best to write everything I need to write without overburdening myself🤡

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

She arrived silently, as she always did when the world weighed too much on her shoulders. Her sweatshirt hid the marks of her bad day, and her lost gaze revealed that something, once again, had broken inside.

Pau opened the door before she could even knock. It was as if he sensed, from afar, that she needed him. Without asking anything, he pulled her inside and wrapped her in a tight hug, like a shield against everything that hurt.

“Them again…?” he whispered, his voice deep and soft at the same time.

She just nodded, her face hidden against his chest. The scent of fabric softener on his shirt and the warmth of his arms were the only place she felt safe. Hot tears soaked the fabric, but Pau didn't care. He just held her tighter.

“They only look for me when they need something. When it’s time to go out, they forget about me. When I need them… no one comes.” Her voice cracked, almost like an apology for being hurt.

“That’s not friendship,” he said firmly. “That’s convenience. And you don’t deserve it.”

She wanted to respond, to say that she knew, that she was aware of everything. But even though she knew, she couldn't pull away. It was like being caught in an invisible chain, made of memories good enough to keep hope alive—hope that they would change, that one day they would treat her the way she deserved.

Pau pulled away just enough to look into her eyes. His fingers lightly touched her face, wiping away a tear.

“I get angry for you. For seeing how much you give, how much you try… and no one gives back. You give your all and they give you crumbs. It’s not fair.” His voice shook slightly, and she saw in his eyes a mix of pain and deep care. “You deserve people who will stay even when it’s not convenient. Who will show up just to see you smile.”

She closed her eyes, letting his words seep into the cracks in her chest.

“What if I don’t know how to get out of this?”

Pau took a deep breath and took her hand carefully, slowly intertwining their fingers.

“So I’ll stay by your side. Until you make it. Until these bonds stop hurting. Until you realize you deserve more. I show you, every day, that you don’t have to beg for attention. Just let me stay.”

There was silence. The house was quiet, only the hearts of the two seemed to speak in exchanged rhythms.

She rested her forehead against his, letting a tear slowly run down her face.

“Thank you for seeing me when no one else does.”

He smiled lightly, kissing the top of her head tenderly.

“I will always see you. Even on the days when you can’t even see yourself properly.”

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinott @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[nottslove]

Hello! My favorite song at the moment is bed chem sabrina carpenter

event; profile; nav;

4.6k words. longer than i expected. istg i should call these long-ass fics instead of mini-fics.

hi anon! thank you so much for requesting!! so since this song came from a summer album, it gave me summer vibes... as in, a summer romance vibe. and who better to fill in the role than our favorite, italian reverie? presenting.... none other than theo nott!

warnings: google translated italian, fluff, angst, use of y/n.

song: bed chem, sabrina carpenter slytherin boy: theo nott

Italy in the summer was nothing short of magical. Ever since childhood, you had dreamt of wandering its sun-drenched streets, breathing in the scent of fresh espresso and warm pastries, getting lost in the hum of its language. Finally, after years of waiting—graduation behind you, a job secured—you seized the moment. Three months of careful planning had led to this: a solo summer in your dream country.

From the instant you arrived, Italy wove its spell around you. The rich culture, the lyrical cadence of the language, the way history seemed to press against the very walls of the cities—it all made your heart swell. Rome for the first week, Venice for the second, Verona for the third, before returning home to England. A carefully mapped-out itinerary, structured yet bursting with anticipation. And yet, only two days in, the thought of leaving already felt unbearable.

Your schedule was packed, each day a whirlwind of exploration. Today, you were on a mission—to find the restaurant your coworker had raved about. But somehow, amidst the maze-like streets, you lost your way. A wrong turn led you somewhere unexpected—quieter, tucked away from the usual tourist bustle. The air here felt different, carrying the aroma of fresh bread and roasted coffee.

That was when you saw it.

A small, unassuming café nestled into the corner of a street you hadn’t intended to walk down. At first, you nearly passed it by, lost in thought, until your hip accidentally brushed against a potted plant perched on an outdoor table. As you bent down to set it upright, your gaze traveled to the building—soft yellow paint, ivy cascading like a green waterfall over the doorway, curling around the windows as if cradling the café in a warm embrace.

Through the glass, maritozzo sat temptingly on display, golden and pillowy, just waiting to be devoured. Your stomach made the decision for you—you stepped inside without another thought.

The café had a charm that was impossible to ignore. Dim lighting, shelves stacked with books worn from time, the quiet murmur of conversation blending into the clinking of porcelain. You spotted the perfect table by the window and moved toward it, but something stopped you. A pull, inexplicable yet undeniable, tugging you gently in another direction.

You turned.

There he was.

A classic Italian gentleman, effortlessly poised, his fingers curled around a porcelain mug. Dark curls framed his chiseled features, his presence magnetic, as if he had been waiting for someone—perhaps, for you.

He sat there with an effortless grace, the kind that spoke of quiet confidence rather than arrogance. His strong jawline framed a face that seemed sculpted by the hands of an artist—sharp cheekbones softened only by the warm olive tone of his skin. His deep brown eyes, rich like freshly brewed espresso, carried an intensity that made it impossible to look away. They held stories, secrets, a depth that hinted at a life well-lived, or perhaps, one waiting to begin.

The soft curls of his dark hair, slightly tousled yet undeniably charming, brushed against his forehead, the kind you could easily imagine running your fingers through absentmindedly. His neatly pressed shirt, a shade of crisp white that contrasted beautifully against his sun-kissed skin, was unbuttoned just enough at the collar to suggest a sense of ease. The sleeves were rolled to his forearms, revealing toned muscles beneath, a glimpse of strength tempered by elegance.

As he lifted his coffee to his lips, the movement was deliberate, languid, as if savoring not just the drink but the moment itself. His fingers—long, graceful—curled around the porcelain mug, and you couldn't help but wonder how they might feel tracing against yours.

There was something about him—an air of mystery, a quiet magnetism—that pulled you in. A presence that demanded attention without asking for it. And in that instant, as the world outside continued to bustle on, he was the only thing that mattered.

His eyes locked onto yours, unflinching, electric—a mesmerizing shade of aquamarine that seemed almost unreal, like the sunlit waters of the Amalfi Coast. They held something—an unspoken challenge, curiosity, or perhaps recognition. A glint of amusement flickered beneath the depths, but there was something else too, something that sent a shiver down your spine. It was as if, in that single moment, he had unraveled you entirely—seen you in a way no one else had.

The way they caught the light, reflecting hints of seafoam and cerulean, made them impossibly captivating, as if they carried fragments of Italy itself. And just like that, without a single word, you knew—this summer, your summer, had shifted in a way you never anticipated.

Just like that, your summer had changed.

It didn't take long before you were at his apartment, tangled up in his sheets, bodies pressed close, the world outside forgotten, him feeding you strawberries with your head on his chest.

Your head rested against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into quiet contentment. He reached for a strawberry, holding it delicately between his fingers before pressing it gently to your lips. The sweetness burst against your tongue, mingling with the lingering taste of his kiss, and somehow, it all felt so natural.

It was intimate in a way you had never experienced before. Here you were, in the arms of a total stranger, yet somehow, you felt safer than you ever had in a long time. It had barely been two hours since you met, and he already knew so much—the tender details of your childhood, the wistful echoes of your first love.

You exhaled, staring at the soft rays of the golden setting sun filtering through the window. Was it him, or was it simply Italy itself—the spell this country seemed to weave around everything and everyone? Were all Italian men this effortlessly charming, this easy to talk to, to surrender yourself to?

"Come mai la tua bella testolina è così silenziosa, hmm?" he murmured, large hands sliding down your hair and brushing it away from your face.

You giggled, reaching for another strawberry and placing it between his lips. "I already told you I don't understand a word of Italian..."

"I've heard I'm a very good teacher," he replied with that confident, lazy smirk of his. "I could show you Italy better than any..." he paused, furrowing his brows slightly to think of the word. "guida turistica..."

Once again, you giggled softly, the moment he pressed his lips to your fingers to lick up whatever was left of the strawberry his mouth had just stolen from you. "tour guide?" you asked, trying to provide him with the correct word.

"Si. Tour guide. I can be yours, if you like..." He punctuated his suggestion with a series of open mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbones.

And just like that, all plans of going to Verona and Venice were out the window, and you rescheduled your return trip to a whole month later than your original return date.

His name was Theodore Nott, but you called him Teddy for short.

He had somehow managed you to move into his penthouse, where you spent every morning waking up in his bed, and the scent of freshly brewed espresso all over the penthouse.

Every morning, without fail, he insisted on spoiling you. Before the sun had fully risen over the terracotta rooftops, before the city outside had begun to stir, he was already at work in the kitchen, crafting something new—something special—for you.

The aroma would reach you first, warm and inviting, coaxing you from sleep before his voice did. And then, there he was, standing at the edge of the bed, tray in hand, a knowing smile playing at his lips. He never let you lift a finger.

It was never the same meal twice. One morning, perfectly flaky cornetti dusted with powdered sugar, paired with rich, velvety cappuccino. The next, eggs cooked just right, fresh tomatoes bursting with flavor, crusty bread straight from the bakery down the street. Then, perhaps, a delicate frittata, infused with fragrant herbs, the kind only someone born into the heart of Italian cooking could master.

He knew what he was doing. Better than half the chefs you had encountered. Every bite was a revelation, every flavor precise yet effortless, as if he were drawing from an endless well of knowledge passed down through generations.

And there, in the quiet glow of morning light, the two of you would share more than just the meal. Between sips of coffee and bites of something impossibly delicious, the conversations flowed—deep, unfiltered, woven with laughter and confessions.

It was indulgent, intimate in a way that felt rare, precious. You had never been cared for like this before, never been seen in such a quiet, effortless way.

And each morning, as he looked at you over the rim of his cup, you wondered how you could possibly go back to a life without this. Without him.

But both of you knew that this golden relationship you had wasn't meant to last. It would be over once the summer came to an end. It was nothing but a summer romance, no matter how real it felt.

Yet, despite knowing, neither of you spoke of it. The truth lingered between kisses, between laughter that melted into quiet sighs, between mornings wrapped in sheets that smelled of sun and him. It was there—in the way his touch lingered a moment too long, as if memorizing the feel of you. In the way you watched him, tracing every detail, as if trying to capture something fleeting, something slipping through your fingers.

It wasn’t just a romance. It felt bigger than that. Real, golden, drenched in the warmth of a summer that would soon end. But endings had a way of creeping in, of pressing against even the sweetest moments. The whispered promise of farewell was in every embrace, every shared meal, every sunset you watched together with unsaid words weighing in the silence.

And yet, despite it all, neither of you pulled away. Because for now—just for now—it was enough. It had to be.

He was true to his word. He showed you Italy better than any tour guide would. All the intimate places he spent his time at, all the tourist spots... everything.

And he did it with a kind of quiet pride, as if sharing these places with you meant something—meant more than just sightseeing. He led you through the winding alleys of Rome, past the bustling piazzas and into corners untouched by the hurried footsteps of tourists. The hidden cafés where the locals greeted him by name, the bookstore tucked away in a side street where he had spent lazy afternoons, the unmarked trattoria where the food was better than anything you’d find on a guide’s list.

But he didn’t ignore the classics. He took you to the Colosseum when the sun was soft, when the crowds hadn’t fully formed, so you could stand there in the open space and feel the weight of history pressing against your skin. He pointed out the details in Michelangelo’s work, things that even the guides didn’t mention. He let you linger at the Trevi Fountain, grinning when you tossed a coin in and made a wish, teasing you about what it might be.

"What did you wish for, cara?"

"Would you like to know?" you replied with an air of mystery and a suggestive raise of your eyebrow.

Venice came next, the city that felt suspended between reality and dream. He showed you how the water reflected the light just right in the early evening, how the gondoliers sang not for show, but because music was woven into the city’s bones.

And in Verona, he traced his fingers along the worn letters left at Juliet’s wall, smiling as you read them, as you let yourself believe—for just a moment—that love like that could live beyond legend.

He gave you Italy. Not the packaged version, not the curated one. He gave you the one he loved, the one that had shaped him, the one that mattered.

And in doing so, it became yours too.

He showed you Italy, and you showed him your soul.

He had given you Italy—the real Italy, the one written in hidden alleyways and the scent of fresh espresso, in the history etched into crumbling stone and the rhythm of a language that felt like poetry.

And in return, without meaning to, without even realizing it at first, you had given him pieces of yourself. The quiet corners of your heart, the stories tucked away for only the most deserving ears. The fears, the dreams, the moments that had shaped you. He saw them all—held them gently, as if they were something precious.

And somehow, he remembered all of it.

The way your fingers moved when tying your laces—quick, practiced, a subconscious rhythm you never thought twice about. The way you stirred your coffee absentmindedly, always three times, never more, never less. How your nose scrunched up ever so slightly before a sip, testing the temperature without thinking.

Then, of course, there was the pineapple on pizza—your unforgivable offense. He had gasped dramatically when you first admitted it, clutching his heart as if wounded by the mere thought.

"Mio Dio!" he had gasped, when he had first seen you put pineapple slices on your slice of the pizza he had spent four hours making for you at home, from scratch. "Stai rovinando tutto! This is a betrayal..." he declared, eyes alight with playful scandal, yet he still took your hand that evening, still kissed you like you belonged to every part of Italy.

And perhaps that was what struck you most—how easily he collected these pieces of you, storing them as if they were something worth keeping, worth cherishing.

It was fleeting, ephemeral, destined to fade when summer did.

But for now, he knew you, and you knew him.

It was unexpected—the way he let you in, the way he unraveled parts of himself that felt sacred, deeply personal.

He showed you the school where he had spent his earliest years, where he had first learned to chase dreams too big for a boy his age. He traced his fingers along the worn stone walls, the graffiti scrawled by restless students, and laughed as he recounted the trouble he used to get into, the teachers who never quite knew what to do with him.

Then, there was his childhood home—a modest place tucked away in a quiet neighborhood, walls filled with echoes of the past. He told you about summers spent on that tiny balcony, about the way his father used to hum old songs while cooking dinner, about the arguments, the celebrations, the life that had unfolded within those walls.

But it was when he brought you to her grave that everything shifted. His mother—the woman who had shaped him, guided him, loved him deeply, and left too soon. He didn’t speak much at first, just stood there, quiet, thoughtful, fingers brushing the cool stone. Then, slowly, he told you about her—the warmth of her presence, the lessons she had given him, the ache of losing her.

And in between, you lived with him—fully, unapologetically, as if time had no claim on the moments you shared.

You laughed until your stomach ached, until your cheeks hurt from smiling, until your laughter tangled with his and filled the spaces between you like music. You cried in ways you hadn’t before—not from sorrow, but from honesty, from the weight of stories told that had never been voiced so openly.

Together, you existed in a space untouched by reality, wrapped in something golden and fleeting. Neither of you spoke of the end, but it lingered, always, just beneath the surface.

Yet, somehow, that made it all the more beautiful.

And you loved him.

You loved him like you had never loved anyone else in your entire life. And he knew it.

Tangled up in the sheets after yet another round of him completely rocking your world, your head was resting on his chest when you tilted your head to look into his eyes and whisper the two little words that you had learnt on Google just for him.

"Ti amo..."

His grin stretched wide, unmistakable, almost wicked in its delight—the kind that sent a thrill down your spine, that made you wonder what thoughts ran through his mind in that exact moment. It was the kind of smile that could pull you in effortlessly, like a secret he was daring you to uncover, like he had already won a game you didn’t know you were playing.

The corners of his mouth curled with satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with mischief, amusement flickering beneath the striking aquamarine depths. He leaned forward slightly, as if savoring the way the words hung in the air between you, his fingers tracing absent patterns against the table, his body relaxed, utterly at ease.

Without hesitating, he said it back, "anch'io ti amo, tesoro."

But all good things eventually come to an end, and within the blink of an eye, your summer had come to a close.

You had gotten to know his soul in depth— every inch of him, every quirk, every flutter, every mark on his body. It was a lifetime of love experienced in one single summer.

A love that burned brightly, condensed into fleeting moments, yet carrying the weight of something much greater.

You knew him. Not just his laughter or his charm, but the quiet pauses between his sentences, the way his fingers twitched when he was deep in thought, the crease in his brow that only appeared when he spoke of things that truly mattered. You memorized the rhythm of his breathing, the softness of his voice just before sleep, the way his presence wrapped around you like warmth you never wanted to let go of.

Every mark on his body told a story, every scar a memory, every glance a secret shared only between the two of you. And in the golden stretch of those summer days, you traced them all, learning him in ways that felt impossibly permanent.

A lifetime of love, packed into stolen kisses beneath a foreign sky, into whispered conversations at dawn, into the soft pull of fingertips against skin.

And yet, when the season came to its inevitable close, when the sun dipped lower, signaling the end, you both knew—this was exactly how it was meant to be.

No regrets. No bitterness. Just a summer that would live in your bones forever.

And when the time came, when the final days of summer settled upon you both like the last golden rays of the evening sun, there was no bitterness. No desperate clinging, no sorrowful goodbyes laced with regret.

You had known him completely—every detail, every quirk, every unspoken thought behind those aquamarine eyes. And he had known you just the same. There was nothing left unexplored, no corner of his world, or yours, left untouched.

Yet, this was how it had always meant to end. Not in heartbreak, but in understanding. A gentle farewell, filled with gratitude for what it had been, rather than grief for what it could not be.

Right person. Wrong time. Right place.

You stopped at the café where it all began one more time before he dropped you off at the airport.

It had been almost two months ago that you met him here, but now?

It felt like a lifetime ago.

And so, beneath the amber glow of the setting sun, with Italy wrapping itself around you like a final embrace, you made a promise.

Not one bound by desperation or longing, but by understanding. By the quiet certainty that, though your story was meant to end now, perhaps—just perhaps—it wasn’t meant to end forever.

"If you’re still single," you murmured, fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup, voice steady but soft, "meet me here. Ten years from now. Same place, same table."

He studied you for a long moment, aquamarine eyes deep with something unreadable—something like hope, something like fate. Then, slowly, he smiled. A real one. A promise sealed with nothing but the weight of the unspoken.

"Ten years," he whispered softly, but you knew him well enough to know what he was saying. "If you find yourself lost, or lonely," he continued softly, looking at you longingly, like he wanted to tell you to stay, but he knew he would be asking too much. "Will you come find me?"

He looked like he was losing a part of himself that he had never realized was missing until he met you.

Your lips curved into a watery smile. "Of course I will..." you replied, your fingers gently brushing his jaw, the way you had done countless of times. "I'll always find you, Teddy..."

And just like that, leaving him was easier, leaving Italy was easier, carrying the summer in your bones, the memory of him pressed into every part of you.

Maybe you’d return. Maybe he would. Maybe, just maybe, the right person at the wrong time would, one day, become the right person at the right time.

He was your soulmate. You never believed in them before, but you certainly believed in them now.

With your pact in mind, of a futuristic promise, you had finally agreed to part ways.

And just like that, it was over.

No tears, no grand gestures—just a quiet understanding, a moment suspended in time, wrapped in the golden haze of a summer that had changed you both.

He had dropped you to the airport, and your heart felt heavy and full as you parted ways.

One last goodbye kiss.

One last fleeting touch.

One last look of his beautiful aquamarine eyes meeting yours.

And then, you turned your back on him and began to walk away.

"Wait," he had called right before you fell out of earshot.

You turned, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from making this farewell harder for you than it was supposed to be.

A moment of silence.

And then he spoke.

"Goodbye, Y/N," he murmured.

"Goodbye Teddy."

It was only when you had turned around fully and passed through the security gates that you allowed the tears to finally spill.

But you held hope in your heart.

You walked away, carrying the weight of what had been, the tenderness of shared mornings, the electricity of stolen glances, the laughter, the knowing, the love—brief but undeniable.

Yet there was no sadness in the goodbye. Because, in the heart of Rome, beneath the watchful gaze of history itself, you had made a promise.

Ten years. Same place. Same table.

And whether fate would honor such a pact, whether time would lead you back to him, was a mystery left to the future.

But for now, you carried him with you, and he carried you with him.

And maybe—just maybe—Italy would call you home once more.

Ten years passed faster than you anticipated. The years slipped through your fingers like sand, faster than you ever imagined.

Lovers came, and lovers went. Life unfolded—new places, new faces, fleeting romances that never quite ignited the way that summer had.

Theo was embedded into your soul. He was there in every, single thing you did. Your summer in Italy was no longer a distant memory, but a whole different lifetime, one that was etched so fiercely into your soul that it was a part of you. You lived, you loved, you lost, and yet, through it all, Theo remained.

Not in a way that haunted you, not in a way that stopped you from moving forward. No, he was simply there—woven into the fabric of your existence, stitched into the smallest, quietest moments.

It was in the smallest things—the subconscious gestures, the habits formed over a lifetime. In the way you lingered at cafés with ivy-clad doors, in the way you stirred your coffee three times, in the soft ache that settled in your chest when the golden glow of evening light reminded you of the way his skin had looked beneath the setting Italian sun.

Your summer with him wasn’t just a memory—it was a lifetime, a part of you, embedded so deeply that no amount of time could erase it. It had shaped you, changed you, taught you things no other experience ever could.

Because that summer lived within you, etched into your very being, woven into the quiet moments of your day.

It was there in the way your lips curled into a soft, private smile whenever a passing scent reminded you of fresh espresso in a hidden café. In the way your fingers brushed against ivy-covered doors, lingering as if searching for something lost. In the way your heart skipped—just barely—when the evening light mirrored the golden glow of those long-forgotten afternoons.

It wasn’t just a memorable summer vacation. It was a presence, a whisper of something untouchable yet undeniably real.

And whether the promise would be fulfilled or left behind in the folds of time, one truth remained—Italy had never truly let you go.

And neither had he.

And now, here you were. Ten years later.

Standing in front of the café where it had all begun.

Heart pounding. Breath shallow.

Wondering if fate still had a place for the two of you.

The café still looks the same. The ivy overgrown a little more, the paint a little more faded and worn and the steps that lead to the café a lot more rough and round-edged.

You stepped inside, your breath shaky as you tuck your handbag underneath your arm, tilting your head back to shake the hair all away from your face.

Your heart in thumping, your fingers are sweaty as you look around once, a quick scan of your eyes across the room.

And everything stops.

Your breath catches.

Just like that, time collapses.

Ten years, a lifetime’s worth of moments, all fading into insignificance the instant your gaze locks onto his.

He’s there. Exactly where he said he would be.

The same table, the same quiet confidence, the same presence that had once unraveled you completely. But different too—aged by experience, refined by the years that shaped him in your absence.

It's his eyes that give it away— that he's the same person as he was a lifetime ago, the same person you fell so hard for.

His eyes—impossibly vivid, the color of sunlit tides and forgotten dreams—burn into yours, a tether pulling you back, back to a time when love was effortless and fleeting, yet somehow eternal.

Yet, as his aquamarine eyes meet yours, as recognition flashes across his face, as his lips part ever so slightly in stunned disbelief—none of that matters.

"Teddy," you whisper breathlessly, your eyes meeting his, the rest of the occupants of the café fading into a blur— nothing else matters as much as him.

It takes two strides for him to reach you.

"Y/N," he pulls you into his arms, and your lips crash against his, tears spilling down your cheeks as you hear the golden sound of his voice calling out your name.

And you're finally home.

Because this was never truly a goodbye.

And somehow, somehow, it feels like the beginning all over again.

event; profile; nav;

©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[giiyus]

top ten heart wrenching moments in next to normal

(in no specific order because they are all equally devastating in their own ways)

1. the reveal that gabe is dead

diana's look of hope as she walks up the stairs coupled with dan and natalie's wounded expressions makes the whole reveal even more shocking

2. natalie's breakdown during her piano performance

as a perfectionist with crippling anxiety who wants to be acknowledged for her talents, i feel for her

3. natalie trying to block out her parents' argument

i think this one speaks for itself. just look at her

4. diana's blood on the floor

absolutely chilling scene with gabe's toy car and bin surrounded by diana's blood

5. gabe's expressions during "i've been"

his scared expression at diana's blood being on the floor and his look of hurt when dan says there's no one around makes my heart break for him

6. gabe touching natalie's hand

him softly touching her hand before he leaves forever and her feeling it was genuinely soul crushing for me

7. dan throwing gabe's music box

dan's yell at natalie, natalie getting scared and running away, and diana tears and attempts to fix the box shook me to my core

8. dan breaking down in front of natalie

from the whole production, this scene made me tear up the most. dan's gut wrenching sobs still echo in my head

9. gabe's pleading look after "i am the one reprise"

jack wolfe just really knows how to pull on my heartstrings because god i feel so bad for gabe that my heart hurts

10. diana crying when she's going through gabe's baby stuff

hearing people break down makes me so emotional. and diana whispering "my baby" while clutching gabe's baby clothes just made sure that i would want to bawl my eyes out

[astoldbyaja]

The Shade Between us - 32 (Sinners 2025)

Normal POV

People are screaming, trampling over each other to get far away from the machine guns and to the closest exits. Bodies are falling as Remmick is pushing past people, with a snarl to get to the stage, to get to his wife. His red eyes are not wide with primal rage, or hunger as they have always been, but filled with fear and panic as they stare at the stage. Estelle’s frozen, too scared to move. She’s having flashbacks from all the fighting and horror of the 30s and 40s that she’s petrified. Her chest is moving wild and fast as she’s breathing heavily.

The lights get shot above her head and jumps but still doesn’t move.

“ESTELLE!” Remmick yells as wave of people push him back. His voice is muted almost, his fangs and claws are revealed. As he pushes through the crowd, someone is standing there slowly turning to face him. A black man with a cigarette in his mouth, his eyeshine looking oh so mean and vengeful.

“Yeah… I been waiting to see you again mothafuckuh.” Smoke said maliciously. Remmick looked at the man, aware of another vampire walking up behind him, pulling out his knuckle knife with a smirk on his face, ready to do damage.

“What up big bro?” Stack asked behind him. Remmick turned to glance over his shoulder with a crazed look as he eyed the two vampire twins before looking at Smoke. All he saw were two men stopping him from getting to his mate.

“… And who the fuck are you supposed to be?” he asked. Smoke’s eyes widened as he pulled out his two pistols and began to fire yelling hard as he unloaded the clips into Remmick’s chest. The bullets make his body jerk back multiple times and Stack runs up and stabs Remmick right in the top of his back. Remmick snarls and just bolts his body back.

“FUCKIN’ GOBSHITE!” he snaps angrily, which only makes the crowd around them try and run from them. Stack throws his knife to his brother before he locks his arms around Remmick, they are now cheek to cheek as Remmick struggles pushing Stack through random people trying to flee the barrage of gunshots due to the shootout that’s happening.

Estelle stands there shaking violently. A bullet sores past her hitting the wall… then another, and another. Mary is running and shoving past people yelling her name, but she hears no one. Stack snarls.

“You took our little sister from us… took our friends…” he said lowly. Smoke broke a wooden leg chair off and began to use the knife to start shaping the edges. Remmick roared and jumped back knocking the two over a table, but Stack still does not let go despite the many people trampling and falling over them. Remmick sees Smoke walking back, stake in hand, but he looks past that, he looks to the stage and roars feeling his scar tattoo throb heavily with pain.

For once… he can’t focus. Estelle is too far, these two fucks mean to stake him, and he can’t even think clear enough to conjure the hive. He’s afraid, not of the twins or the one twin holding the stake, but for Estelle alone on the stage not knowing where he is. She’s all alone and he can’t get to her, because he’s scared. He can hear her heart beating, out of the hundreds of heart beats, he can hear hers calling for him… crying for him.

Smoke pulled Remmick to his feet, which brought Stack up on his feet as well. Smoke nodded.

“Now we gonna get it in blood!” he yells moving to ram the stake through his heart, however, Remmick’s hand grips Smoke’s wrist. Slowly, Remmick’s jaw begins to stretch his entire face starting to morph into something much darker. Smoke’s face trembles as he’s trying to use all his strength to pierce his chest. Remmick growled a deep guttural growl that was downright demonic.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you now!” he snarls. Mary makes it to the side of the stage.

“ESTELLE!” she screams. She’s close enough to make the woman’s body jerk to attention and look at her. She holds her arm out. “COME! COME TO ME!”

Estelle sees her, snapped out of the traumatic visions that are going through her head. She sees someone who means safety to her. She runs toward her only to hear a heavy bang with a mixture of thunder and lightning! She feels a burst of fire in her stomach that makes her stumble to a pause her eyes widening some. Mary screamed and the twins and Remmick freeze and look to the stage, all three pairs of eyes widen as Estelle stood there, a huge red spot appearing in her stomach.

Look down lord look down. This time… I’m comin’ home. It’s a late-night sweet Jesus. Take me home now.

Estelle sees her mother, her grandmother and great grandmother standing behind Mary’s screaming face before finally falling to her knees.

“ESTELLE!” Remmick and the twins yell in absolute horror, eyes wide and bodies moving on raw fear alone toward the stage. Mary tries to get onto the stage, but bullets are flying across making her stay back. Remmick storms past many people jumping onto the stage to grab Estelle by the shoulders quickly holding her trembling body in his arms close to his body.

"Oh baby, baby!" he cries.

The throbbing pain of her body immediately shoots through him, their connection flowing through each other. He feels the pain; he feels her fear.

“Meas an teach seo, a Remmick. Meas ar na saolta a mairimid. Cosain ár banna.” she said seriously. (Respect this house, Remmick. Respect the lives we live. Protect our bond).

“Nigbagbogbo.” he promises. (Always)

 His body shakes in rage, and he snarls and looks down at the bystanders in the club either running, fleeing or trying to hide behind something for protection. He looked at the gangsters who were shooting at their rivals. More and more bodies were on the ground. This was their fault! This was everyone’s fault! His eyes widened as he looked left and right, his face shaking with rage, black veins spreading all around his face as his mouth splits further up.

The twins watch with wide eyes.

“Oh shit.” The say in unison.

A fury had taken over Remmick as he suddenly lets out a horrific guttural and otherworldly roar toward his enemies, his claws holding his mate protectively to his body. It was a wail so painfilled that it awakens all the dead, all the vampires he has ever turned in these past two years hidden in the dark place.  Shadows burst from the ground as vampires hit the ground attacking anything human.

The monsters bite down on necks, rip out throats, and maul people to the ground. This stops the gunfight that had claimed many lives today as they are viciously mauled down to the ground.

This hive was a multiracial group of people snarling and hissing as they bit down on anyone they could. Some wore party outfits and others wore business suits. Bo had just jumped onto a mobster’s back tearing out his throat before running to attack anyone else he could get his hands on. Blood splattered the room, body parts were flung everywhere. Skin is ripped from bone, and screams of pure terror fill the room. Remmick looked down slowly at Estelle to see her eyes were dim, the light in them fading. He lifts her carefully and floats over the carnage below ignoring the screams and the smell of blood all around him. Estelle’s face was sweatin’ and her eyes were fluttering some.

“Remmick…” she said weakly.

“Don’t you worry… Ima fix this baby… Ima fix you.” he said with a nod, smiling some so she’s not so scared. “Ima take you home, and Ima fix your hair real nice, so it looks beautiful like always.”

His feet touch the ground of the hall that would lead him outside. He leaves out the club and hurries down the street to his car. The sound of police sirens in the distance were coming. Remmick couldn’t just fly home people would see.

Remmick kept walking until he got to the car, and he lied Estelle down gently in the back seat, stroking her hair.

“Im gonna fix you darlin’.” he said. He knew he had to get her to a hospital, and that she needed real care. He knew where the closest hospital that would care for African American without prejudice. He sped off down the road. He didn’t need to talk, he could feel their connection even though he felt halfway dazed and almost drunk, out of it because their connection was injured with Estelle being shot.

“Remmick…” she said weakly.

“I’m here.” he said drving fast.

“I see them Remmick… I see the ancestors all around me. They want me to go with them.” she whispered.

“With all due respect to the spirits, baby…. fuck them! You ain’t leavin’ me on this rock by myself again!” he yelled. Lightning shoots across the sky and thunder rolls with the sound of vicious chanting. He pulls up to the hospital the large building bright and almost like heaven to him. He parks crookedly onto the parking lot and hurries to get his wife from the car as he quickly runs across the street. He’s holding Estelle close to his body. He sees a drunk and homeless man outside the hospital begging for money. Beer is in one hand, and his hand is out in the other in front of a hat. As he hurries to the hospital, he grabbed the man’s hand yanking him off the ground and pulling him to the hospital.

“AYE MAN THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! LET ME GO!” he shouted trying to paw Remmick’s hand off him. Remmick doesn't even hear him or acknowledge him. As he gets to the first set of doors, Remmick tosses him inside and past the automatic sliding door. Before the homeless man could get out, Remmick stopped him with dark eyes holding up a hundred-dollar bill.

“Invite me in!” he commands with a growl. The homeless man’s eyes widen at the hundred-dollar bill.

“Sure, you can come in!” he said. Remmick pushes past him leaving the money in the man’s chest before using it to cradle Estelle limp body in his arms. He reaches the hospital and sees only black staff.

“Somebody help me please!” he calls out. The nurses and doctors see him holding the woman bridal style and rush to her.

“What happened to her!” a doctor asked.

“She was shot by gang members please help my wife!” he begs as everyone is moving about shouting for supplies and a gurney. Staff began to take her from his arms, and he had to fight the heavens and earth to not snarl and give himself away. They place her on a wheeled bed and Remmick yells out some in pain as she’s being wheeled away back down the hallway where he cannot follow her. That doesn’t stop him from trying. An elderly black woman stops him.

“She’ll be alright now, honey. We gone do all we can for her!” she said not caring if his hands were cold like the dead.

Author's Notes

Lyric is from - Rosewood OST - Aunt Sarah's Death.

Taglist

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[sexy-monster-fucker]

Can You Give It All to Me

Roman Roy x Assistant!Reader

Summary: Roman humping your leg like a dog. Because he is one.

CW: sorta power play(?), needy!Roman, tease!reader, not-so-dry humping, degradation, praise kink, tit play, mommy kink, cum swallowing, Roman’s famous intimacy issues, some biting, situationship because duh

a/n: ah! I haven’t even seen one full episode of Succession, but I am obsessed with Roman and could not wait to write for this sick freak any longer :) but the assistant x roman just makes sense in my mind even if it’s not that relevant to the story

title track 🎶🧎🏻

~~~

You sat on the edge of the mattress in the fine hotel room you had for the night. Designer dress draping perfectly down your figure. Beautifully showing off your legs and the designer heels to match. Crossed to hide away from his peering eyes.

And directly in front of you was Roman. Leaned back on his spread legs, knees digging into the carpet. Tie loosely slung around his neck and buttons on his shirt undone. Suit jacket hanging around his elbows. Slacks unbuttoned and unzipped. Bulge trying its hardest to free itself from its confines. His head was arched back as he looked up at you. Chest heaving with each desperate breath he took.

You smirked at him. Cockiness clear on your brow. Uncrossing your legs and leaning back to rest on your stretched out arms, palms pressed into the soft duvet. Revealing the slit that traced all the way up to your now exposed core. No panties. The entire night. Confirming Roman’s earlier suspension when you had bent over and there had been no sign of a pantyline. His tongue wetted his bottom lip as he stared at your cunt. Shadowed by the dress, yet still noticeably glistening.

“Come on,” Roman begged, “My cock is gonna blow a fucking gasket if I don’t get— something soon.”

Even when he was this desperate he was still mouthy. Always a complainer. You were driving him insane. Being this close to you, yet not being allowed to touch you. It was ridiculous.

“Maybe if you had behaved tonight,” you chastised with a click of your tongue.

And it was not that he had particularly misbehaved, just kinda made a fool of himself in front of some potential share holders when he said something about fucking you raw. Typical Roman fashion. His words coming out before he even had time to really realize what he was saying.

“Fuck,” Roman groaned, rolling his head around his shoulders, “Didn’t know it was a crime to brag about how good of a pussy you’ve got.”

“It is when I’m your assistant,” you teased.

Roman’s hand pulled his tie the rest of the way off, throwing it into the floor with a hint of attitude. Hooded eyes glaring at you. Shoulders sagging, arms draped at his sides. His suit jacket slipping the rest of the way off.

You were having a silent stare down. Almost challenging one another. Roman did like to pretend he was the one in charge. Even when you had him on his hands and knees begging for you.

You gestured with your pointer finger. Curling it towards yourself.

Roman crawled over to you. Straddling your leg, knees spread so that his cock was pressed against the front of your ankle. Hands fumbling as they released his member from its confines. Fiddling with his fly so that the zipper did not pinch his now free cock. You admired him from above. Tip swollen and already leaking precum. Thick with a heavy vein running along the underside. His hands cupped around your leg, fingers sinking in wherever was softest. His chin rested right above your knee on your thigh. Big, hazel eyes pleading with you.

“What do you want, sweet boy?”

He rested his cheek on your skin. Puppy dog eyes fluttering up at you. You ran a hand through his hair, leading to cupping his cheek. Scoffing at your glance, “I’m not a-a dog.”

“Really? Because…” you pushed your leg further against his erection causing his hips to roll against your skin searching for more friction, “… you’re humping me like I’m a bitch in heat and you’re some stupid mutt.”

You pulled your leg back a little, eliciting a loud whine from him. His body instinctively chasing after the feeling, wrapping himself tightly around your limb. Eyes squinting shut as he rested his forehead against your knee. His hot breath fanning down the front of your skin.

“Look at me, Romey,” your voice was low.

He looked up at you, eyes glossy and bloodshot. Sweat beaming along his forehead. Hair, previously perfectly put together by gel, now disheveled and messy.

“Go ahead,” you gestured with your hand.

Roman’s eyes lit up. Beginning to press himself to his feet when you stopped him, “Tsk. Not up here. On my leg.”

His eyebrows contorted. Trying not to act angry, but that vein on his forehead gave him away. The way his jaw flexed as he swallowed hard. Opening his mouth in protest until you tilted your head.

“This is messed up,” Roman sighed with a hint of joking.

“I can leave if that’ll—“

“Fuck no!” Roman rolled his hips against your leg once more. His ‘no’ coming out more broken than before. Beginning a slow drag of his cock against you. Bead of precum spreading along with him. Grunting as he tried to find what felt best. You scratched your nails along his scalp, encouraging him silently.

Roman’s perfectly manicured nails scratched at your skin. His mouth hung open as he finally found what worked best. Completely flush against you, balls and all. The underside of his cock curved up and down your leg. Pulsing and hot. Moaning under his breath with each movement.

And he was so sexy like this. Curled up, practically praying at your feet. Worshipping you like the goddess you are. Ruler of his world.

His brows tightly knitted together. Slack jawed as he continued grinding into your leg. Unable to fight the wicked grin that curled along your face.

“Look at you,” you chastised, “Such a sicko. Fucking yourself on me like this.”

Roman’s eyes shined up at you. Eyebrows slightly upturned as his lip pushed out. Pouting from pure pleasure. Loving your insinuated disgust of him. Panting as he pressed a chaste kiss to your thigh. More intimate than he normally showed you like this.

“Awe. Do you like when I talk you through it? Who’s my good boy?”

His lip quivered. Breath coming out broken and shaky. Nodding as he squinted his eyes shut. A fleeting whimper forcing its way out of his empty lungs.

You tilted your head, “Use your big boy words.”

Roman bared his teeth for a moment. Fighting his own ego. Refusing to meet your eyes again as he huffed out his nose. Your fingers tangled through his locks. Forcing his head back.

“Speak.”

“I-I am,” he stumbled. Voice meek and unsure. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“Let me hear you.”

“It’s me! I am,” Roman half shouted. More confident and sure of himself. Bloodshot eyes meeting yours. Pupils engulfing his irises. Jaw flexing when he swallowed down his fear of rejection.

You smiled, hand caressing his face, “Yes you are.”

He shuttered. Cock jumping and leaking more. He began quickening his thrusts against you, mouthing barely audible words into your skin. Bottom lip catching as he open mouth kissed every inch he could reach. Tongue coming out to lick a stripe up you.

Every inch of your body was growing hot. You knew Roman would not last long like this. He was always so easy to blow his load. So you decided to make it even worse for him. Sliding your straps off your shoulders, catching his eye. Slowly, sensually removing them and flipping the top of your dress down. Revealing your bare breasts for him.

Roman sighed. Eyes glued to your chest. Watching the way your tits bounced with each thrust of his hips. His balls tightened at the sight. His tongue glazed over his teeth, eyebrows contorting as he drooled over you.

“I want to suck them,” Roman blurted. Darting desperate eyes up to yours before repositioning back to your chest. Hips never ceasing.

“You do?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

“Please… mommy,” he finally said. Whining as his nails sunk into your flesh. Holding himself tight to your leg. It made your chest burn and heart thump.

You leaned forward, awkwardly forcing your breasts in his reach. Roman’s breath caught in his throat. Brows jumping, knowing if he got greedy you would pull away and leave him to fuck himself on the floor.

“You have been so good for me,” you cooed. Fingers dancing along his jawline, arching his gaze up to your eyes again. Silently staring. Almost too afraid to speak. Simply huffing and whining as he fucked himself on your leg.

You pressed a kiss on the top of his head. Roman’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at the feeling of your chest across his face. Kissing you gently, testing the waters. Not daring take your nipple between his lips yet.

“Go on,” you whispered.

Roman licked along your mound. Circling your nipple before taking it into his mouth. Cheeks hallowing with how hard he sucked. Sure to leave a purple mark in his path. He grumbled and whimpered into your chest. Cock swelling and nearing its end.

His hips rutted. Loosing his consistent rhythm for a moment as he moaned into you. You knew the familiar noise. Smiling when he shifted to your other nipple. Kissing it more than sucking. His mind was going hazy from pleasure. Drunk on you.

“ ‘m gonna cum,” he spoke with your skin between his lips, “Lemme cum inside you. Please…”

Roman had always been given everything he could ever want his entire life. Money was no problem for the Roy family. So when the chance arose for you to withhold from him, you could not pass it up.

“Cum on my leg. Like the filthy dog you are,” you gritted, straightening your back and taking away your breasts from him.

“But, mommy—“

“Don’t back talk me,” you quipped.

Roman sighed loudly. Looking to the side for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek so that he did not say anything else to upset you. Angry that you had this power over him.

“Okay,” he whimpered, “Ye—Yes—“

His teeth sank into the top of your leg. Canines leaving marks in their wake. Focusing on the way the rim of his tip would grind and catch on your leg. How tight his balls were, ready to blow their load deep inside your womb. All his could do was imagine it for now.

“Goddammit,” Roman cursed under his breath as his teeth ground together. Brows pinching the skin between them. Whining and groaning as he rested his cheek on your thigh once more. Longing for the warmth of your walls. His imagination could never even get close to that feeling.

“I’m gonna cum,” Roman repeated louder. Shifting so that his open mouth was pressed into your skin. Panting as he twitched. Shooting ropes of cum all over your leg. Thick and white. Pooling some on the top of your shoe. Exhaling with moans laced through them.

Roman rested his forehead against your knee. Eyes forced shut. Trying his hardest to catch his breath. Cock sensitive and a little cold now that it was covered in his seed. His hand grabbed it by the base and rubbed it a few final times up and down your leg. Coating it further. Loving the electricity that shot through him when the vein would pinch. You tapped his chin, urging him to look up at you. Disheveled and sweating. So very sexy.

You pinched his cheeks between tight fingers. Filling the gaps between his bones with scratching nails, “Now fucking clean it up.”

Roman panted, nodding without thinking. Trying to rise up before you snapped your fingers. Causing him to heel. Confusion lighting behind his eyes.

“Use your mouth.”

He locked his jaw together. Upper lip twitching, vein on his forehead bulging more than ever. Having a moment of loathing for you. That was until your expression softened. Head falling softly to the side as you fought off a giggle. This was his favorite part of the game. Yes, cumming on you was physically the best. But there was something about the way you would get giddy at the end of this. Every single time.

And he loved it. Not like he would ever admit that. But he did. The way your face flushed and you bit your lip. It made his chest swell. Wanting to make you happy forever. Do anything you wanted. Even if he pretended this was all for his benefit, it was always to please you.

“Yes, ma’am,” his sarcastic tone returned. Taking his place on his hands and knees, nose tracing down your leg. Tongue lapping up his own release. Cascading down to lick up what had gotten onto your far too expensive shoes. Straining so that his eyes were looking up to you the entire time. Even if he could not see you, he knew you could see him doing it.

Sitting back and looking up at you. Lips and chin glistening. One brow arched higher than the other. His own cockiness returning. Knowing this was a job well done.

You patted the mattress beside you, “Come here.”

Roman joined you, one hand splaying across your thigh as he looked at you. Finally eye level with you. Corner of his mouth curving upward as he really took in your face. Your beautiful, stunning face.

You quickly captured his lips in yours. Licking into his mouth to get the remnants of his own taste. Loving the way his salty cum filled your senses. Humming in satisfaction as you kissed him.

It was not too often you kissed like this. Usually reserved for other body parts. Not lips on lips. It was too intimate for Roman. Like it made you a couple or something. Ew.

But this was different. It almost made him… happy? Like this was what he was supposed to be doing. His hand came up to cup your cheek. Pushing himself further into you. He could feel his cock pulsing, balls preparing to refill. His desire for you was unyielding. Body craving yours anyway he could get it.

Roman pressed his weight into you, leaning you back against the mattress. Never removing his lips from yours. Hungry. Sloppy. A little awkward. All so Roman in itself. Pulling away for a moment just to look at you. His hair falling in front of his eyes.

“Thought you didn’t like the whole kissing thing?”

Roman put his entire palm over your smirk. Annoyed with you. Pushing your head into the bed. Earning himself a giggle from you, your hands wrapped around his arm. He rolled his eyes, not wanting to see your beautiful smile. Even if it was endearing.

“Shut up, you little hyena,” Roman’s normal tone and way of speaking returned. Smirking for the short moment your eyes were covered. Enjoying this.

You stuck your tongue out, licking up his palm. Instinctively, Roman jerked away. Faming shock as he looked at his hand. Looking back at you and half laughing as he spoke, “You fucking freak! Jesus Christ, you don’t even know where that thing has been!”

Your hands came up to cover your mouth as you laughed. Cheeks shining and eyes squinted.

“And you’re laughing?! What the hell is wrong with you—“ Roman leaned forward to be nose to nose with you. Teeth on display as he tried to fight off his grin.

“You’re one to talk!” you playfully pushed his shoulder.

“OH? Coming from Miss Dommy Mommy? Making me cum all over those expensive ass shoes I bought you—. You think I’m the freak in this relationship?” Roman snarked, hand flattening against his chest for emphasis.

You leaned your head back with a laugh. Eyes falling closed as you sighed. Catching your breath from the repetitive laughter. Thinking about what he just said. Letting the weight of that sentence sit on you. Knowing he did not mean it the way it sounded. But still loving the thought.

“You fucking loved it.”

“Whatever you say.”

Roman rested his head on your exposed chest. Hands tucking themselves under your back. Listening intently to your heartbeat. You petted the back of his head. Allowing both your bodies to relax. Knowing this is how you would sleep the entire night.

But tomorrow morning, neither of you would acknowledge this moment. This tender, almost romantic, position. Or how comfortable you felt together. Willing to show each other more than you could any other person.

Because it’s not like you were dating.

That’s just gross.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you for reading! This is my first time writing for Roman, I just love him so much. My sick little freak! If you are interested in being tagged in my future works, let me know! Inbox is always open. Comments and Reblogs are appreciated! //

{tags}

@strang3lov3 ~ @megangovier ~ @iwmflbb ~ @person-005 ~ @digitalpup444 ~

[yandere-sins]

The Octopodes' Tale - Chapter II

Thank you everyone for voting ♥ It's time we actually get to know our new, sweet yan, isn't it? Wonder how you guys will decide this time, especially if you have read about the facility and the Professor in the previous MerMay story, hehe! ;) Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Octopus Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader Words: ~2k  Warnings: Yandere, Monsters (Tentacels, Oversized Mention, Mermaids, Monster Appearances, Sharp Teeth, Claws), Fear of potential harm to human/animal

"Excuse me!" you repeated, this time firmer, standing up straight. Everyone was now finally giving you their full attention, minus the guards with their guns still pointed at the man in the pool. Questioning glances were thrown your way, and your heart throbbed from nervousness as you felt the eyes of all these great researchers on you. They had decades of experience combined that you'd likely never reach if the facility decided to kick you out for the unnecessary ruckus you caused. And yet, you had to admit to yourself that the truth was more important than your pride. Even if it wasn't in this research field, you could still enjoy and care for sea life. But if someone were to be harmed because of you, that's not something you could easily get over. 

"It's my fault! That guy didn't do anything, really. I realized someone was with me in the room after I left, and I freaked out when I returned and found a struggle in the water! I didn't want another person or the octopus to get hurt, which, by the way–"

Directing your focus to the guy still bopping in the water, you gave him a stern glare. "You should get out of there, that's not a pool to swim in! It's the octopus's home! You'd not appreciate someone stirring up your home either, would you! That poor thing must be so frightened right now, I can't imagine what it feels like!"

Stunned silence. 

Everyone stared at you, their mouths agape, and you felt the heat burn in your cheeks as your shame made you think about where you had gone wrong. Even if you did the right thing, they were probably horrified by your reveal and the commanding tone of your voice. You wanted to drown yourself in that very pool beneath your feet in that moment, but thinking about them having to fish out your body only made you more ashamed. You should never have come here; this was way too much embarrassment for one day!

Unexpectedly, the silence vanished, replaced by loud laughter all around you.

First, there were chuckles from behind you, then a bellowing laugh from the Professor. Soon enough, everyone had a full-on laughing fit, and even the guards gave each other looks as if to say, "Really?" their stances relaxing just a tad, even though their weapons were still raised. 

Perhaps the only one that wasn't laughing was the guy in the water. However, you were glad to see he was getting closer to the pool's edge again, seemingly ready to finally get out of the tank. If you had helped anyone that day, at least the poor octopus who was confined here and had to endure all of this. Hopefully, it would recover from the stress, considering how fragile marine life could be. 

Immediately, the guards snapped back into focus as the guy grabbed the metal grates around the pool, and you felt the frustration bubble inside you. The researchers were still laughing at you, the guards kept stopping the man from getting out, and no one cared for the poor specimen in the water, denying it the calm it deserved! 

"Let him get out! Isn't protecting your specimens the most important thing for you guys?! You are ridiculous, it's not like he can run away from a locked room!"

Squeezing past the guards, you knelt next to the man, immediately feeling thrown off by how huge he was. Worry crept up your spine as you crouched beside him, and although you remained open-minded, it was unsettling as he was more than twice your size. So, even though you wanted to hook your arms beneath his and pull him from the water, you went for only one arm instead, tugging at it with as much strength as you could muster after exhausting yourself in the water. 

Thankfully, after cocking his head a little and watching you struggle, the man finally did his part in slowly moving with you. None of your muscles could truly move him on your own, but with his help, you pulled him up on the metal. You managed to get his torso out of the water just in time before your strength ran dry, someone placing their hand on your shoulder as if to relieve you. Immediately, you felt your and his heavy body sag, his shoulder leaning against you awkwardly as you turned your head to look at the Professor standing behind you. He gave you a slightly pitiful smile and his fingers gripped your shoulder tightly, pressing painfully into your skin. He looked very different from the old man you had met before, the smile not reaching his eyes as they drilled into you from above.

"Your sense of justice honors you, but I think you should take a good look at the specimen you're trying to help. We wanted to wait for you to realize it on your own once you started working here properly, but it would be a disservice to everyone if we kept you in the dark any longer."

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the Professor give you an encouraging nod towards the man you were still clinging on to. Slowly, you turned your head, glimpsing at his face, a cheeky grin plastered on it. Besides his size, you thought there wasn't much special about him. But the longer you looked, the more uncanny he became. His skin had a warm tan, almost reddish and feverish, but icy cold to the touch. His eyes still had the golden glow you had seen before, but there were many different colors melting into each other, his irises dotted with orange and red that made the yellow pop even more. And then his mouth came into view, and you were unsure how you could have missed the pitch-black teeth and the jagged yellow tongue shining forth from behind them. 

You let go of the man at once, your instincts tingling in your mind again like before. Something wasn't right about this guy at all, and you couldn't pinpoint whether he looked wrong or simply sick to you, but either way, his appearance was uncanny. You didn't understand what was happening until you looked over his shoulder and down his body, tan skin turning into a pure red mass around his hips. 

And from it, tentaclese emerged. 

"What…" you mumbled disbelievingly, slowly moving backwards on your knees and away from that creature. The guy leaned forward onto the grated floor, seemingly unbothered, while red tentacles poked out from the water, sticking and gripping the metal around him. They seemed to come after you with all the time in the world, creeping eerily into your direction, while you felt your own world stop spinning as you tried to comprehend what was going on. But there was only so far you could go until your back hit the legs of the Professor, who stood in your way with an unbothered knowing look in his eyes as you looked up at him with questions and a need for answers. 

"A siren. Perhaps more commonly known as mermaids—or mermen, like in this case. It's what we are all about here at the facility. We study and live with these creatures. After all, they, too, are creatures of the oceans, you see."

Stretching out his hand, one of the tentacles reached up to meet it, wrapping around it with fluid motions despite its massive size. However, when you looked down at the… siren, you found his strange eyes stuck on you, still smiling while he watched. 

"Leomaris is one of our most prized specimens here. You'll hardly find anyone more active and cooperative, which is why I wanted to assign you to him. He can be a bit playful, as you likely have guessed after this ordeal, but studying him will lead us forward on our path to learn about these creatures, I have no doubts."

Shaking his hand once, the tentacle let go of the Professor with the squelching sound, common to the suction cups. Instead, it gently snaked to the ground again, landing right in front of you, winding and twisting as was usual for these appendages. Your stomach churned as you weren't sure if you were in awe or disgusted, fearing you might throw up as you watched the tentacles closing in on you. Although your brain understood the information you were given, even now, watching the merman lower himself flat onto the grid and reaching out towards his own tentacle, long, black claws at the tips of his fingers playing with the winding red, you couldn't quite believe it. 

Mermaids were fairytales. At most, they were legends from the past, apparitions sailors had seen or animals they had mistaken for humans. And now you had to just accept that they were real? They actually existed? That the creature in front of you wasn't an animatronic or a projection? But you had touched it, and… it felt real. So maybe it was? They really existed out there, and this facility captured and studied them? And you could be a part of this? This amazing research?

"So?" the Professor grunted, slowly getting down on one knee again to be on your eye level, placing his hand on your shoulder. He gave it an encouraging pat to tear you out of the daze you were under, your head slowly turning away from the organism in front of you. Even now, your body was still screaming for you to get away. Never look away from a creature more dangerous than yourself, and give it a chance to attack. That's what helped with most animals, but you weren't so sure with this one. 

"Will you join us?"

The Professor smiled at you, nodding his head once again towards the siren, and you still felt frozen as you looked back at him. A big, red tentacle awaited you, hanging in the air as if waiting for something. Someone. You. 

You were supposed to take it and seal the deal. Start your work here and join the research team, even after what happened. You'd take care of this creature and study him alongside others like you. You'd get to do what you wanted and have the potential to be someone greater than you ever anticipated. If this research was finalized with your name on it… you couldn't even imagine the changes your life would undergo by accepting this position. You'd be part of something big and meaningful and everything you ever wanted.

But was it worth the risk? You knew nearly nothing about this type of creature. Even if the Professor was convinced of his willingness to cooperate with you on the research, you knew the legend surrounding mermaids and how they usually weren't interested in building mutual trust and understanding with humans. Who said he wasn't like the human-eating monsters from the books? With all the red on his body, he resembled the comical red devil, and he might very well be one. A predator waiting for you to fall once more for his tricks and jump into the water so he could take a bite out of you. Who was to say you weren't just a snack for him, and your instincts were right to warn you? If mermaids were real, what more crazy things would you encounter if you stayed?

Thoughts and reasoning as always, are welcome! ♥

[nebulations]

[ID copied from alt:

the first part of a 3.5 page comic set featuring Jing Beiyuan (JBY), Wuxi, and Luta from QiYe. The page is 6 panels long. 1. Luta is braiding JBY's hair. It's a fun activity for bonding. 2. Luta is still braiding JBY's hair, and he lifts a strand and inspects it. 3. Luta: Ha! you're getting old, dad. JBY tilts his head back. JBY: What are you talking about? I was old before you were born. 4. Luta yoinks a strand of hair out of JBY's head, surprising JBY. Luta: Oh yeah? check this out. 5. JBY looks offended as Luta shows him the strand of gray hair. JBY: youch ouch what? 6. Luta yanks out another strand, and JBY threads his fingers through his own hair to try to stop this madness. Luta: you've got another one here too. JBY: you little horrible thing!

the second part of a 3.5 page comic set featuring Jing Beiyuan (JBY), Wuxi, and Luta from QiYe. The page is 6 panels long. 1. JBY is braiding the back of Wuxi's hair, adding silver beads with a crochet hook, and is looking contemplative and distracted. Wuxi is braiding one of his front side braids. Wuxi: are you alright? You're being quiet this morning. 2. JBY pauses. JBY: ... 3. It's broadly the same panel. JBY: I'm going gray. 4. Wuxi looks delighted, turning around, letting go of the braid that he was working on and pulling his hair out of JBY's hands. Wuxi: are you? let me see JBY: you little monster, I wasn't done! 5. JBY leans his head forward and allows Wuxi to card through his hair. JBY: your horrible student may have yanked them all out. Wuxi: nope here's one 6. Wuxi yoinks another gray hair out of JBY's head. JBY buries his face in his hand, laughing. JBY: you're just as awful!

the third part of a 3.5 page comic set featuring Jing Beiyuan (JBY), Wuxi, and Luta from QiYe. The page is 6 panels long. 1. JBY brings his second hand to cover his face, tearing up. Wuxi grabs his arms and presses his forehead to JBY's face. Wuxi: hey. hey, is it okay? 2. JBY looks at his hands, tearing up. JBY: it's fine, I just 3. the POV shot of character looking at hands which I love to do. The palmistry is accurate, JBY has warped fate lines, short life lines, and broken love lines. He's crying, and tears have dripped onto his palms. JBY: I thought I'd be dead by now? 4. JBY plays with his hair, tears running down his face. JBY: I never thought I could have this. I was just... a means... but now I have you and Luta and out family and everyone is okay and safe and I'm getting old! I just 5. Wuxi stares at JBY intensely in his eyes, taking JBY's face in both hands, wiping away tears. 6. JBY and Wuxi hug tightly. JBY: love you and I love my life and I'm so happy.

the last part of a 3.5 page comic set featuring Jing Beiyuan (JBY), Wuxi, and Luta from QiYe. The page is 3 panels long. 1. Luta is combing JBY's hair. 2. Luta's combing reveals a distinct bite shaped bruise on JBY's neck. 3. JBY looks unrepentant, like he doesn't even care. Luta closes his eyes and keeps combing. Luta is captioned, "I pretend I do not see it". Wuxi peeks in from another room, smirking at them. Wuxi: I bit your dad shitlips.

Somewhat of a doodle sheet featuring Luta from the QiYe extras. The top right doodle is a fullbody shot of Luta throwing a peace sign at the camera. He is wearing a dark underrobe (pants jumpsuit), a lighter skirt, and a short sleeved overrobe in the purple which I use to signify a most saturated color. His inner robe trim and belt have orchids printed on them, and he is wearing cute slippers. His hair calls to mind Elsa from Frozen, with bangs that do not fit in the braids. Other than that, he has two braids that hang down by his ears and one braid going across the top of his head. The rest of his hair is down, and it is somewhat wavy. The top left doodle is a half up shot of Luta. Really, it's just a more mischevious expression. It's very redundant to the first doodle, but I like it, so it is there. The bottom left doodle is a picture of young Wuxi and Luta, both wearing their shamanet robes, for purposes of contrasting them. Wuxi has curlier hair which is in more braids. He is wearing silver jewelry, a beaded chain atop his head. His robes are dark purple and are clasped with a tarantula hawk pin on one shoulder because he would think it's cool. Luta is wearing redder robes and gold jewelry. His hair is messier than Wuxi's. Luta wears a simpler gold chain around his head, but it has jeweled cabochons dangling from it. His robes are clasped with two orchid pins. They are both glaring at the camera. Wuxi's eyes are narrowed in contempt, while Luta's eyes are wide in horror or disgust. The picture is captioned (in gold): "damn bro you've got two generations of shamanet laughing". The center middle doodle is of JBY and Luta hugging like father and son. We can better see Luta's braids situation, and how it's just the one braid going down the top of his head and two by his ears. JBY is making a ^^ face. He is wearing a jasmine scrunchie to imply the passage of time. Luta is on his tiptoes to hug JBY. This will not last long.

the second part of a 3.5 page comic set featuring Jing Beiyuan (JBY), Wuxi, and Luta from QiYe. The page is 6 panels long. 1. JBY is braiding the back of Wuxi's hair, adding silver beads with a crochet hook, and is looking contemplative and distracted. Wuxi is braiding one of his front side braids. Wuxi: are you alright? You're being quiet this morning. 2. JBY pauses. JBY: ... 3. It's broadly the same panel. JBY: I'm going gray. 4. Wuxi looks delighted, turning around, letting go of the braid that he was working on and pulling his hair out of JBY's hands. Wuxi: are you? let me see JBY: you little monster, I wasn't done! 5. JBY leans his head forward and allows Wuxi to card through his hair. JBY: your horrible student may have yanked them all out. Wuxi: nope here's one 6. Wuxi yoinks another gray hair out of JBY's head. JBY buries his face in his hand, laughing. JBY: you're just as awful!

I think JBY still goes grey early despite it all. It is funny how time flies. days continue.

BONUS SILLY AND BONUS SHAMANET EXPLORATION VVV

while I wouldn't deign to call Wuxi's relationship with his baby shamanet "contentious" he literally textually enjoys messing with people. see: gave jiuxiao IBS for a week unprompted.

give it up for the next generation's shamanet!!! ♥♥♥♥

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[lymtw]

Know You're Enough

Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.

Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.

"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.

"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."

He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.

"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.

"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.

Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.

Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.

"What else do you want from me, doll?"

You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.

"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.

"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.

"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.

"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."

You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."

You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.

"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."

"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.

"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"

Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.

"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.

He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.

Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.

You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."

He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."

Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.

"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."

He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.

"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."

"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.

"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."

You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."

"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.

You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.

"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.

"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"

He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.

"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.

"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.

This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.

You were wrong.

Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.

To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.

Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.

He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.

Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.

"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.

"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.

"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.

His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.

"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.

"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"

You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."

He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.

"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.

He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.

"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.

"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.

"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.

"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.

"Mm-mm, this is good."

It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.

He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.

"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.

Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.

You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.

"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.

"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."

"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.

"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.

You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.

"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."

"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.

"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.

His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.

"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."

"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.

"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."

You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."

He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.

"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.

He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.

One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.

You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."

"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.

Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.

You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.

"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."

"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.

"No. Please."

"In a minute," he repeats.

"Pretty please?"

"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.

"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.

Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.

"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"

You hum, nodding your head.

"Yes?"

"Please, yes."

His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.

"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."

"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer. You whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.

"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"

A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.

You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.

"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.

"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.

You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.

Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.

Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.

You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this as many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.

"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.

He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."

You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"

"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:

"I wouldn't be able to tell you."

He chuckles. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."

"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"

You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."

He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.

You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.

[loveanddeepdick]

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅ hi angel!

obsesssed!perv!geto x f!reader || suguru keeps jacking off to you! stop it sugu!

here is a link to my obsessed!geto masterlist this fic is crazy btw pls click off if u get uncomfy

cw and notes: LOWK WRITTEN NASTYILY AND HORNYBRAINED, im gonna be honest its a mess of all the shit i like, kinda gross geto lol, groping, sir kink, dom/sub coded, obsession, unhealthy behavior, dubcon touchin, nudes, indecent exposure but in the comfort of your own home, piv sex, nipple play, creampie, teasing, masturbation, multiple rounds, posessiveness, this is a little insane of me but per the request of deepdick citizens i as your mayor will deliver, not proofead lol

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

geto suguru has no shame.

from the moment you met him until now, he always says everything and anything on his mind. when he first asked you out, he pulled you aside, gripping your shoulder as he bluntly confessed to you.

"we'll have dinner tomorrow. 8pm at nobu," he smiled before patting your shoulder and walking away. you damn near got whiplash as you swiveled your head around, speechless as he just nonchalantly walked off.

but if you thought he spoke his mind without any repercussions, you should've seen what he did to the coworker who was harassing you. he's heard about her during one of your stories about work, crazy customers, unhinged coworkers, careless higher-ups.

she was long gone the day you returned to work.

in a way, he loved that you didn't mind his straightforward behavior , that you appreciated how transparent he was. but with that also came with your nympho boyfriend jacking off anywhere and everywhere in your shared apartment. he walks around with his dick out for fucks sake, and today, you swore he was on some aphrodisiac.

9:14am. friday morning.

you were cooking up breakfast in your shared kitchen, humming as you sipped from your mug. you heard the heavy creaking of suguru's feet on the wooden floor approaching as he yawned. he was inhumanly tall, lanky and skinny yet toned whenever he stretched.

he groaned scratched his stomach underneath his black tank, lifting it up to reveal his dark happy trail.

"morning, baby," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your neck as he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back as he inhaled your scent.

"brush your teeth, su-" you paused as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, behind you ears, and the top of your head. you silently cursed, feeling something hard growing against your back. "again, suguru?".

you lightly pushed his head back before he whined and buried his nose in your hair again, inhaling deeplty.

"you smell so good, angel," he was nearly whimpering, his cock growing harder, "please, baby, just let me have my morning fill,"

you bit your cheek to keep a poker face, grabbing bowls for you and suguru before bending over the counter

"help yourself," you playfully sighed before grabbing the pans and plating the food. he grinned, giving you kisses in your hair before pulling your pajamas and panties down, taking his cock out to jack off to your ass. "make it quick, suguru,"

"fuucck, youre so hot, just keep.. keep doing what you were doing," he spat into fist before fucking his dick into it.

"you're such a pervert, suguru," you mumbled, bending over a little more to give him a better view.

"keep calling me that, turns me on," there was hearts in his eyes, watching your cute pajama pants scrunched around your knees as your pussy and little asshole was twitching and puckering just for him.

like clockwork, he squirted white ropes, coating your pussy as it dripped down onto your panties. he kneeled down, pulling your panties up to your cum soaked pussy before he brought a finger up to run it against the crotch area, poking around at his sealed cum against your hole.

"so gross," you rolled your eyes.

"yeah? but you stand there, you take it, and you love it, don't you?" he chuckled, pressing his nose in to inhale as you yelp, making you bend over just a little better as he sniffed in the nasty mix.

with a kiss to your clothed pussy, he pulled your pajamas back up, getting back to his feet with a gentle smack to your ass.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

11:52pm, friday afternoon

you get a text during your lunch break from suguru. what could he need this time? well, you had an idea.

>'hi, angel im otw with some lunch for you'

>'doing what i asked you to, aren't you?'

you hid your blush even though you were alone in your office. there, under your tight skirt and white cotton panties, was suguru's load was pressed wetunder your panties, your thighs squeezing together and keeping the cum warm.

<mhm im in my office

>[video attatchment]

you opened the video with low volume. he was in his car, holding a polaroid of you. he's in the parking garage of the apartment complex with his zipper down, his cock pink and standing tall. the video is only a minute long as he jacks off to your picture, his cock tip nearly touching your face on the polaroid before he cums, covering the entire thing.

what a nasty man.

you hear a knock on your door before he comes in, your thighs instinctively trying to hide your arousal from his teasing words. you place your phone on your desk as he approaches, chuckling at the sight of your not-so-well hidden flustered face.

"what's wrong, angel?" he mocked, grinning before he stood before you, his pointer finger lightly stroking your jaw as you peered up at his form.

his tall, dark form is almost eerie as he leaned down a little to look at you. he had hurricanes in his eyes as they bore into yours before trailing down a bit to your cleavage poking out from your white button-up. what a pervert. even then, it was like peering into heaven after centuries damned in hell.

your arms drift up and around his waist before you embrace his toned figure, your cheek pushed into his sweater.

"my eyes aren't as low as where you're looking, you creep,"

"just means i can focus on two things at once, huh?"

you playfully slap him before he grabs your wrist, pulling you up from your chair and pinning your against your desk, your chest against his ribcage as he peers down upon you.

"missed you so much," he breathed out before his eyes trailed down, his hands coming up to trace your figure, his hands stopping to cup your tits through your clothes as you squirmed and closed your legs, "keep them open,"

his knee came in between your legs, parting them and leaving you. vulnerable to him.

"you been a good girl today, hm?" he chuckled, giving your tits a squeeze before one of his hands travelled down to your skirt, lifting it up to reveal your nearly see-through panties squished up on his leg.

"yes, sir.." you the inside of your cheek to bite back a moan as he began slighly moving his leg up and down.

he guided you to sit on the desk as he knelt, lifting your skirt as he looked at your panties with hearts in his eyes. you leaned back a bit so he could take them off. his fingers hooked both sides of your panties as he slowly peeled.

"ffuuckkk, angel," he hissed as the mixture of his cum and your arousal strung to your pussy as he pulled down your panties, the crotch area gooey and smearing the sticky substance all over your pussy.

you whined as he licked a hard stripe from your perineum to your clit, giving it a loud suck before leaning back, showing you the nasty mix on his tongue before swallowing it with a shit eating grin.

"gross perv- ah, fuck!" you couldn't even finish your sentence before his head dove in between your legs again, lapping at your pussy as he flicked it with his tongue and shoved his face deep between your thighs, using his hands to push them together and trap his face.

"suuguuu..." you whined as you grinded on his face

"use my face, baby, y'taste so fucking good, nobody knows this sloppy pussy like i fuckin' do," he pulled off your clit with a slurp before spitting on it, "say it. say i know this pussy the best,"

"y-you know this pussy the best, sir!" you gripped his long silky hair before your heart dropped into your pussy, "w-wait sir, something c-coming!"

"just let it happen, angel, let go for me, it's gonna feel good i promise," he groaned into your pussy before you twitched, convulsing as you squirted into his mouth. he latched onto your pussy, sucking your clit and messily lapping his touch as he drank your juices.

"so.. gross, sugu,"

"lunch break's over, sweetheart," he chuckled with a kiss after he helped you clean up, "tell your coworkers i said hi,"

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

6:07 pm, friday evening

suguru loves watching you eat. he rarely ever works in person, preferring to have his spirit consultations online (where he loves to scam rich people who exploit others). before you come home from work, he makes sure to make you a nice home-cooked meal or get takeout from somewhere you love.

he watches you eat, savoring each spoonful and gushing on and on about how good it tastes. the small smile on his face looks like little cracks on a china plate. to any other person, it would seem as though his reaction was neutral, but you knew this meant he was ecstatic.

later, you flopped on your bed, landing atop the blankets on your back as you sigh happily from the food. he comes up to you, climbing into bed to sit against the headboard before he reached down and rubbed your stomach lightly with his thumb,

"tummy must be all fun huh, angel?" he chuckled, "should i put on a movie?"

you nod, rolling over onto your stomach as you rest your cheek on your crossed arms, shuffling pressing your side against geto's as he watches you swing your feet in the air a bit.

suguru puts on a horror movie and you groan, realizing it was his turn to choose. you haven't seen this one yet, an old classic thriller probably. some stupid killer on the loose with more stupid people getting killed probably.

he watches you, the way you seem so intrigued with the plot, the way your back moves up and down as you breath, your little laughs when the characters make a joke. he just can't help the blood rushing down to his crotch. the movie plays as you begin to drift off before you hear the shuffling of fabric.

before you turn around, you hear him cough and spit into his hand. the sounds of his spit-soaked hand going up and down his cock, sloppy and desperate for relief as he gets so turned on by you doing anything.

"suguu.. are you jacking off right now?" you gasp, your head whipping around to see him pumping his cock with a expressionless face.

"just focus, baby," he grunted, "you look so cute right now,"

you shifted, sitting against the headboard with him, snuggled up to his side as you watched him masturbate. it wasn't weirdest thing, in fact, this was probably the most normal thing going on in your home. he draped his arm around you, resting it on the headboard as you shyly watched him.

"you're so pretty, suguu," you breathed as he sped up his strokes

with a groan, he finishes on his hand, bringing it up to your lips so you could clean it.

"goood girl, always so obedient, aren't you?" he smiles as you release his finger with a pop, licking his hand clean and drifting your focus back to the movie. you try to swallow it covertly but the way his eyes dart to you face shows that he noticed. he nestled closer to you, his arm resting on your thigh.

the movie continued, suguru not even bothering to put his dick back and going bare in your room (ew) before his arm shifted again, the arm around you dropping lower until his fingers were grazing your shoulder. with a blush you squirm as his hand begins to travel down to your clothed chest, resting on it.

you glare at him before focusing on the movie again until you feel him squeeze it lightly, his finger coming up to draw circles around you covered nipple. biting back a moan, you drift your hand closer to his cock until the killer from the movie pops up with a loud bang, scaring you as you yelp.

your clothed clit grazes against geto's fingers as you jump. he holds back a laugh for your sake, watching you scared expression from the film as he keep his fingers against your clit. after a couple minutes, he begins rubbing it gently through your panties.

you moan, pawing at his wrist gently as you babble about watching the movie. he knew you didn't give two shits about the shitty cgi two-star film.

"you don't want it? tell me if you don't want it, baby, i'll stop," he mumbles against your hear as his groping and rubbing stops for a moment, waiting for your response only to be met with silence. he smiles against your ear before he lifts you up, laying you down on the previous position on your stomach again as he sits behind you.

"you wanna focus? then focus."

he watches you squirm, your fluffy pajama shorts hugging your figure as he can almost swear he can see your pussy. he stalks like a predator hunting prey behind you, trapping you under him as he pulls your panties aside.

"don't get scared, baby," he chuckles, "you jumping is only gonna make me feel good,"

he thrusts his dick deep into you as you moan, gripping the sheets as your feet kicked against the bed from the sudden intrusion. he pressed his body against you, leaning into your neck as he inhales your scent, his hand coming up to your face to shove his fingers into your mouth.

"y'look just like the person on screen, sweetheart," he grunts as you dart your eyes to the film, seeing the victims of the killer trapped in a basement with their arms restrained and their mouths duct taped.

what a strange movie.

he presses his body weight on your back as he drills mean thrusts deep into your pussy, his fat cock head pushing against your cervix as you drool on his fingers. you closed your eyes in fear of getting scared by the fictional killer again, but seeing your cute face all scrunched up and choking on his lanky fingers only made him thrust harder.

"shhuuuguu," you choke as he holds you down under him, his mean hips fucking you over and over again.

"gonna cum, angel? yeahh? good girl, take this dick-fuck, i was made for this fuckin sloppy pussy,"

he groans as you nod and drool, enjoying your slurry of words as he pushes his fingers deeper. you convulse and squeze around his cock, milking him until he came with a loud groan. he continues thrusting slowly even after that, letting you ride out your orgasm until he stills in your cum-fill pussy.

he takes his fingers out your mouth, popping them in his mouth to suck them before turning your face to meet his eyes. giving you a soft kiss on your lips, he carries you out your room to properly clean you up.

what a messy girl

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ satoru's mouth runs a mile a minute, especially when things get intimate.

it's a constant stream, sometimes coherent, often just utter nonsense. and it starts the second any skin is revealed, not even after the main event. his blue eyes will widen, a soft gasp escaping his slightly parted lips.

a dreamy, swoon-like sigh will flutter from his throat, a delicate pink dusting his cheeks. "oh, you're so, so pretty," he'll murmur, punctuating the words with soft kisses against your bare chest, his tongue leaving a wet trail over your perky nipples. "incredibly pretty. beautiful. no, gorgeous. actually, ethereal."

you manage a soft thank you, your brows furrowing with building anticipation. for what feels like an eternity, he's been teasing you, a relentless dance on the edge. the slick head of his cock bumps insistently against your clit with every subtle shift of his weight.

he just keeps talking, a breathless monologue about how perfect you look spread out beneath him, how impossibly lucky he feels.

you're seconds away from snapping; that he'd feel a hell of a lot luckier if he'd just slide inside already.

"sato, c'mon," you finally whine, a desperate edge to your voice. "ple— please, just…"

"i am, i am," he coos, a lazy smile stretching across his features. "just give me a minute to properly appreciate m'girl."

you huff out a frustrated breath, giving him a pointed look that clearly conveys your dwindling patience. "you've had plenty of minutes already."

but then, finally, he presses the tip against your slick entrance, and the anticipation spikes. he sinks in slowly, stretching your tight, wet walls with his thick length, and he's instantly undone.

his thrusts are never gentle or rhythmic, but rather urgent, greedy slams, as if he's desperate to absorb every sensation, every inch of you, in that single moment.

"fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," he pants, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "no— no one takes me like you do."

his eyes are glazed over, pupils blown wide with pure sensation. a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and his hands roam your body restlessly, eventually settling on the curve of your waist, his thumbs digging in possessively.

"i can't— god, i think i could come just like this," he groans, leaning down to nip at the shell of your ear, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. his fingers slip lower, finding the swollen nub of your clit and rubbing against it in tantalizing circles.

"s'wet," he breathes, his voice a husky whisper. "do i do that to you, huh?" it's not even a practiced dirty talk, you realize, just his unfiltered, lust-filled thoughts tumbling out.

as satoru's climax hits, a shuddering wave that ripples through his entire body, he's literally thanking you, a broken, hiccuping sound escaping his lips. his head falls heavily into the crook of your neck, and you kiss away the tears that squeeze from his tightly shut eyes.

satoru pulls away, just by a little, gazing at you with big, blue eyes. "i think— i think we should get married."

[fairy-angel222]

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒, 𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹

prisoner! sukuna x psychologist! reader

✧ synopsis: you’ve been assigned to the supposed most ‘dangerous’ prisoner, sukuna. but what happens when you two start to fall for each other instead?

✧ cw: smut, quick paced, semi public sex, risky sex, choking, kissing, pussy eating, blow jobs, breeding, creampie, fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, age gap

✧ wc: 4.7k

✧ a/n: i am not a doctor and i am especially not specialized in psychology. i have made up all of this. also don’t sleep with murderers unless it’s sukuna

Your heels clicked loudly on the stained prison tiles. The echo of your soft footsteps trailing along the narrow walls of the enclosed hallway.

Sukuna.

That was the prisoner you were assigned to. A man who had killed more people than you’d met in your entire life as a doctor, a psychologist at that. So you’d met a lot of people.

Two guards trailed closely behind you, glaring warningly at the inmates who smirked as you walked past the line of cells. A collection of whistles and cheers sounding at the mere sight of a woman as attractive as yourself.

How long had it been since they’d seen one after all.

“Hey Doc… you sure you wanna take this case.. i mean, i don’t doubt ya or anything but this one.. he’s bad. Dangerous.”

“Now what kind of doctor would i be if i feared a little danger. He’s still a patient.” You smiled, ignoring the way your hairs stood as you were led deeper into the institution. The part where they held those deemed a danger to society.

Those who had a no chance of even seeing sunlight again.

You were nervous, your heart thumping loudly in your chest when you scanned your surroundings. There weren’t any cells. There were only.. rooms. Fully enclosed rooms with a singular window for passing food.

Every part of your being begged for you to turn around and run. To not even interact with whoever sat on the other side of that door. And you froze when bright red eyes pierced into yours. The rest of his face casted behind a dark shadow as his head tilted back. Giving you sight to the small smirk creeping onto his features.

“Doc, i really think that-” It was the other guard who spoke up. Both of them holding nothing on their features but fear. It was clear that they never even bothered with Sukuna. The rumors had been enough to make every guard turn a blind eye.

“Hey, it’s fine. Okay? This is what i do.” It really was. The guard gave you a curt nod and a sigh when you clasped both his hands in your smaller one. Offering him a reassuring nod.

“If anything happens, us and about five others are stationed close. Good luck Doc.”

You gave him a small thanks, your head held high as the door was pulled open roughly. Revealing a pink haired man who sat on his bed against the walls, his eyebrow raising when you dared to step inside. Nodding to the guard to close the door.

You might as well have been a dead woman.

“You’re scared.” His deep voice rung out, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled out a small chair that was tucked away near the sink.

“And how do you know, Sukuna?” Your tone was steady, letting out a breath when the shakiness you felt wasn’t reflected in your voice.

Sukuna hummed, his smirk widening when you spoke to him like a normal being. To stuttering, no harshness. Just your sweet voice saying his name. “I can smell it, Doc.” He loved the way you tried to hide your squirm under his gaze.

“So, Sukuna. Tell me something about yourself.” You steered away from his accusation, holding eye contact even when he leaned forward. Taking you in from head to toe. You were hot, he liked that. You seemed to like being confident too. And God did you smell fucking delicious.

He wanted to eat you alive.

Break you.

Use you.

He really did. But you were so fascinating, and he’d only just met you. Who knew how entertaining you could be.

“I’ve killed people.” He was blunt, eyes almost begging you to keep asking these ridiculous questions. It was making his cock twitch.

“Well Sukuna, that is common knowledge, don’t ya think? I wanna know something else.. tell me a secret hmm?” You leaned forward with a smile, elbows rested on your knees as you looked to him for a response.

He reciprocated your actions, leaning forward until you felt his hot breath fan over your face. “A secret huh? Alright Doc..” he watched as your breathing sped up, using every strength in your body to not pull back. You were brave, he liked that. “I surprisingly don’t wanna kill you right now.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I said right now, didn’t say anything about later.” He pushed away from you, one of his knees up to his chest when he leaned back against the concrete wall behind him. “Let me ask you, Doctor. Are you stupid?”

Your head tilted at where this was going. You were supposed to be the one asking the questions. But a conversation was two sided, this would’ve made things easier. “I’d like to believe not. Why do you ask?”

“Because you really think that if i try to kill you, some measly guards would come to your rescue.” He scoffed.

“But you don’t want to kill me. That’s all that matters.”

Fair.

Sukuna watched as you took a quick peek down at his files. There was something that you missed, that much was evident. “Finally found it huh?”

“I haven’t found anything that i didn’t see before.” You objected, glancing to the door with your lip hanging loosely between your teeth.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He demanded lowly, watching with lidded eyes as you let your plump bottom lip, slick after running your tongue over it, fall back into place. Sukuna breathed deeply, finally looking away from you as he swallowed hard. Closing his eyes with his head rested behind him.

There was something about you that he wanted a taste of. It was driving him crazy..er, “I never did anything to these other doctors. They were just weak. Got scared way too fast.”

“And what did you do to scare them away?”

“Nothing.” He spat, “They came in here acting all high and mighty, talked to me like i was beneath them. So i simply didn’t bother to hide how much i wanted to strangle them. And somehow that makes me the bad guy right Doc?”

You shook your head, “No, you have a right to respect too. They should never have treated you as unequals.” Lying was all in the job description.

“Good try Doc. But you and i both know that’s a load of crap.” He finally peeled his eyes back open, and you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to how attractive he was in the dim light. He was extremely built, and had the facial structure that made you clench your thighs. “Now, we gonna finish our game of twenty one questions or not?”

He was actually being cooperative.

“Yes we are. How about i start?”

“I’ll start.” There was no room for objection in his tone. “What’s your name?”

You contemplated whether to tell him or not, eventually letting it out with ease. Though you missed the small smile tugging at his lips when he muttered a small “cute.”

“My turn, what was your childhood like?” You watched his face grow cold, a small glare being directed at anything in the room but you. “Next question.”

“Sukuna..”

“I said next question. How old are you?”

You sighed, “I’m twenty eight.” His eyes widened, that was extremely young for a doctor. “Is there one good memory you have from before you killed for the first time?”

“I had twin kittens. Do you have a boyfriend?”

You were taken aback by the question, mouth opening and closing a few times before you chuckled. “No. I do not have a boyfriend.”

“Good.”

You jumped when the door was yanked open, the guard eyeing Sukuna warily before nodded to you. “Your time’s up, Doc.”

“Oh, already? Could we get just a few more minutes?”

“You know how dangerous he is Doc.. we can’t risk it.”

“You heard the man. I’m dangerous, Doctor.”

You nibbled at your lips softly, and Sukuna fought a groan as you did exactly what he warned you not to. Standing up, you gave Sukuna a warm smile, the gesture making his stomach get all weird inside. “Goodbye until our next session Sukuna.”

He only hummed, the door being shut behind you as you were led away.

It was back to darkness.

There was more than enough light, sure. But it suddenly felt so empty without you there.

—

You couldn’t keep Sukuna off your mind when you arrived home. A part of you just really wanted to figure him out. The other actually liked his company.

You must’ve been so sick in the head. Splashing your face with cold water as you mentally scolded yourself. What was wrong with you? He was a criminal.

—

The next morning you walked the path that you had taken the previous day to get to Sukuna. This time without the guards following you.

There was only one who stood outside of the door to let you in with a small nod of acknowledgement.

Sukuna’s head perked up at the familiar clicking of those heels you wore. His signature smirk on his face as he stared you down. “Just couldn’t get enough huh Doc? Aren’t you forgetting that i’m dangerous?”

You took a seat, no file in had this time. “Good morning Sukuna, how are you?”

“If i said better now that you’re here, would that be cliché?”

You laughed, an actual laugh. A sweet one that made his heart flutter the tiniest bit while blood rushed to his groin.

“It’s very good to see you too. How about we get started yeah?” You paused as you collected your thoughts. “You seem to be heavily affected by people calling you.. dangerous. Why?”

“Everybody is dangerous. It just takes pushing at the right buttons to get it out of them. Half of the people here have done just as bad as i have yet i’m the only dangerous one. Makes so much sense right?.”

He shook his head. “Tell me Doctor, do you really think i just happened to get caught? That i couldn’t get out of this damn place if i wanted too? Hell, tell me you realize that i could drop a good twenty more bodies right here, right now.”

You shifted in your seat. “I think that you let yourself get caught because you’re tired. Because there’s a small sense of peace you get from being in here. And i think that you aren’t trying to leave because you don’t want to.”

“You almost had it Doc. See, i was well on my way out until you came. So i might stick around for just a little bit longer.”

Your heart fluttered, for you? Giving up on fighting the rational side of you as you continued to engage in conversation. Getting Sukuna to slowly open up to you more.

“Do you have any friends Sukuna?”

“I don’t consider people friends. They just exist alongside me.”

“If I asked you to be your friend, what would you say?” It was routine, but you really were curious.

“I’d say you came be whatever you want to be Doc.”

Another flutter.

“Have you ever been in love Sukuna?”

He was silent, jaw clenching as his gaze got harsh. “Next question.”

“What was she like?”

“I said next fucking question Doctor.”

“And i said, what was she like?” You leaned forward, pressing for him to answer the question.

“You’re stubborn aren’t you? I wonder what my hand would loom like around that pretty little neck.” He grinned, sharp teeth peeling from beneath his lips as he brought his face to yours. “She was a lot like you.”

“What happened to her?” You knew how touchy that question would’ve been.

“Nothing. The bitch left.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry.”

He stared at you in confusion, “I never said she died.”

“Yes. But that’s only physically. When she broke your heart she died to you. And that hurts just as bad.”

He was silent, studying your eyes. Trying to get a read on you. “What else do you want to know Doc?”

You were getting somewhere.

Sukuna found you smart. Thought that you knew a lot. Found it hot how good you were at cracking him. But it pissed him off that the one thing you didn’t seem to pick up was how much it hurt to watch you leave at the end of each session.

—

A week later had led to a Monday morning where you hadn’t gone to the prison. You had quite an agenda for the day that could cost you your job if you didn’t get it done.

That was something Sukuna was obviously clueless about. It was why he thought you’d just decided to up and go after he had just started liking to have you around. After he’d started opening up to you.

It was also why he was causing a fit. Yelling at guards to get you to him now. That he wanted to see you. Needed to see you. A line of men laying knocked out atop each other from being sent to ‘handle’ the crazed prisoner.

Would you really not come back? Would you really abandon him? It seemed like that was common with the people he cared even the slightest for.

Sukuna’s fist met the wall near his bed, knuckles bloodied as he cracked into the hard surface. Chest heaving up and down heavily when his hands reached to tug at strands of pink.

He blinked when he heard the clicking of heels on the tiles. Immediately scowling at the unfamiliarity of them. “Who the fuck is this?” He growled through the small window.

“This is Dr Smith, she’s-”

“I don’t fucking care who she is. Bring me my doctor. Now.”

—

Back at your flat, you dropped the piles of paper in front of you at the sound of your phone ringing.

It was a number you didn’t have saved.

“Hello, Doctor ___ speaking- yes? Oh my. I- i am so sorry. Yes, i will be there right away.”

What had you done?

You practically ran through the halls after parking outside the building. Finding many guards posted outside his door with guns in hand. Some of them spotting very black and blue eyes.

“You can all go now.” You panted, it was clear that you had been in a hurry. “Please.”

They all shared a look, finally walking away and allowing you to slowly open the door.

“Where were you?”

“I’m really sorry Sukuna. I was so busy today and-” you gasped when a hand reached out to wrap around your neck. Slamming you into the wall behind you with his face buried in your neck.

Sukuna inhaled your floral scent, groaning to himself as his grip on your delicate skin tightened. “So you just left me here today? Am i not as important as your other little patients? Is that it hmm?”

Deep down, you had hurt his feelings. And he couldn’t help the way he clung to you as your hand lifted to his cheek. Turning his face to look down at yours.

“N-no i promise you. You’re just as important as anyone else. I would have never missed our session if i didn’t have to.”

“Make it up to me.”

It was the perfect opportunity.

“W-what?”

“Strip for me Doctor.” He let go of your neck, letting you catch your breath while looking up at him timidly.

“Sukuna..”

“Why so shy now doctor? We both know you want to.”

You shook your head, shrinking under his gaze with a protesting whisper. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Sukuna. This is very unprofession— ahh.”

Sukuna brought his knee up between your thighs, pressing it into your clothed clit. His lips ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin as he breathed deeply. “You can always leave if you want to. I’m used to that after all.”

You shifted on your feet when your back arched. A small whine leaving your mouth when he pulled away from you and gestured to the door.

He smirked, “Blouse first.”

You bit your lip, unbuttoning your shirt until your bra was on display. The heavy swell of your breasts causing Sukuna’s mouth to water when he nodded to the bra.

With your eyes still on his you let your breasts spring out of their confinement. Two pert nipples pointing right at him as his dick rose. His hand palming himself under the pair of black pants with a shiver. “C’mere.”

You walked over to him on shaky legs. Sitting down on his lap with your head to the floor. “Uh uh,” His hand reached under the your chin to force your eyes back on his. “None of that Doc.”

You moaned when his tongue swirled around one of your nipples. Sucking your breast into his mouth while he palmed at the other. “These are even more perfect outside that tight fucking shit of yours.”

Sukuna watched as you shivered when he ran his finger down your belly. Cupping your clothed cunt with the jerk of his hips into your ass. “Fuck.. take that off.”

You hurriedly peeled off your pants, Sukuna’s pupils dilating at the sight of your lace panties. “Wore this just f’me hmm Doc? All this for Mr Dangerous.” He groaned out.

Sukuan didn’t give you a chance to respond before flipping you onto the hard mattress they called a bed. Lifting your heel clad feet onto his shoulders with his head hovering over your pussy. His tongue darting out to lick at the wet spot building from your arousal. “You’re real dirty f’ a doctor.” He teased, glancing behind him with a chuckle. “Imagine if you got caught.”

Your eyes shot up to the small window, taking note of the vacant corridor as per your request.

“God, you smell so fucking good. Wanna devour that pretty pussy.” He breathed, large hand ripping the flimsy fabric to expose your glistening folds. “Hmm, this wet all for me.”

You mewled when his long tongue licked a stripe up your slit. Swirling around your clit before sloppily dipping into your hole. His hums sending vibrations through your clit as he lapped at your dripping slick.

“Sukuna—” you mewled, back arching as you reached for his hair. Tugging softly with the curl of your toes when his tongue and fingers swapped places. The two joints fucking up roughly into your g spot as he sucked noisily at your clit. “F-fuckk, nngh— so good.” You cried out, tears welling in the corner of your eyes as your body filled with pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that Doc? Bet you wanna get that greedy cunt stuffed right after.” He grunted, your eyes rolling back in a string of muffled moans as your other hand shot up to your lips.

Your legs began to tremble, Sukuna’s smirk growing wider and wider until he stopped his movements. Watching as you blinked down at him with a sniffled whine.

“You left me. You know how much that fucking hurt? I thought i would never see you again.”

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry. Yeah, yeah.. i know.” He rolled his eyes, crawling over your body with a sigh. Using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a stray tear before pressing his lips to yours. Making you taste yourself on his tongue.

You fell deeper into the kiss, eyes closing in satisfaction as his lips moves hungrily on yours. Pulling away with a string of salvia connected you to him.

“Let’s reverse the roles yeah?” He whispered, standing up to sit in the chair that you usually sat in. “So, my adorable little patient.. put these tiny fingers to work on that clit of yours. I want you to make yourself cum.”

You whimpered, your fingers immediately meeting your sensitive clit with a shiver.

“You know what to do.” He encouraged. Your fingers beginning to rub small circles on the small bud before speeding up. Little gasps and moans falling past your lips as your stomach burned with heat.

Your eyes locking onto Sukuna’s red ones as his head tilted. Just like it had the first day you met him. “Ahh, K-kuna. Fuckk.” You cried, head falling back with your eyes still on his. The primal look in his eyes making your insides flutter as he did nothing but watch you. Not even freeing his painfully hard cock.

“Sukuna— c-can’t. Can’t hold it.” Your voice cracked, body shaking lightly as your orgasm washed over you.

“Yes you can.”

“Nngh, can’t Kuna. Need to let go.”

He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity, your breathing getting heavy as you desperately waited on his permission.

He leaned his head back, eyes boring into your fingers working your wet cunt before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You came with a silent moan, body spasming uncontrollably as your pussy leaked onto his only pair of sheets.

“Dirty, dirty girl. Look at that mess.” You shied away feom his gaze. “And look at how hard you made me. Come fix it.”

You stood on wobbly feet, barely able to balance in your heels as you fell to your knees before him. Looking up at him through your lashes while pulling down his pants.

You blinked at the mere size of his bulge. He was huge. Tugging off his underwear to reveal his thick, veiny length. Pointing up to the sky with a fiery red tip. “Suck.”

You took him past your lips, barely able to take even half of him before he hit the back of your throat. Your fist stroking all the parts of him you couldn’t take.

Sukuna groaned, head flinging back with another strained one at how good your mouth felt. “S-shit doc. You really got a mouth on ya.” He gasped, eyes meeting yours as you attempted to take him down your throat. Your drool coating both your lips and his cock as you lewdly sucked him off.

He took your head into his hold, letting you do your own thing as he grunted with each jerk of his hips. Defined abs tensing when he grew closer to his release.

“Fuck Doc, gon’ shoot my cum down that tight throat of yours.” He breathed. Holding you down onto him as you gagged and sputtered lightly, Sukuna’s cock twitching before you felt the warm liquid run down your throat.

“Wish i could fuck that pussy so bad.” He let go of your head, wiping a drop of his cum from your chin before pushing his finger past your lips. Watching as you sighed in content while sucking every last drop. “It’s too bad that in about one minute those guards are gonna come get you Doc. Our session is over.”

You had no time to question how he knew. Scurrying to redress with widened eyes.

Sukuna may not have had a clock. Nor was he able to distinctly see the sun rise and set. But he’d learned to count the seconds when you were around. He knew how much time he had with you.

“And… now.”

At that very moment the door swung open. Sukuna having easily pulled back up his pants after giving you your seat back. Both of you looking as professional as you possibly could.

“See you tomorrow Doc.” He smiled innocently, watching as you scrambled out while avoiding his eyes.

You really fucked up now.

It was hard to keep him out of your mind before. But now, trying was futile. You’d gotten a taste and you needed more. Which was why your brain would not let you close your eyes without thinking of him fucking you.

—

The next morning you bit back a whimper as your clit was caught between your rubbing thighs. You had worn a tight pencil skirt with no panties. Just for Sukuna.

You were thankful that the guards had complied to your wishes of them leaving.

You wanted to stop yourself. To go back home and forget about the red eyed prisoner. He may not have been dangerous to you physically. But to your heart and mind.. he’d be the death of you.

When the door closed behind you, you found yourself bring pushed roughly into the same wall as last time. Sukuna letting out an animalistic groan as he captured your lips on his. Kissing you so much more feverishly than yesterday.

“You don’t know how much i need you. Didn’t even sleep last night.” He panted, turning you around so that your chest rested against the concrete surface. “Missed you so much Doc.” His voice softened, kissing down your neck while grinding up into you. His fingers finding their way under your skirt with a smirk against your skin. “And i thought you couldn’t get any dirtier.. no panties huh?”

You moaned when he prodded at your already dripping cunt. The thought of him being enough to have gotten you soaked. “Shit- tell me what you want Doc. Let me hear you say it.” He growled lowly, ready to snap the second the words left your mouth.

“Please— please fuck me.”

Sukuna hungrily shoved your skirt up. The fabric bunching at your hips as he freed his aching cock. Both of you letting out a noise of satisfaction when he sunk into you, his large hands holding tightly onto your hips to pull you into him. Your back arching as your hands shot out to the wall for support.

“O-ohh God.” You cried loudly, your lips parted in shaky moans as Sukuna’s cock rammed deep near the entrance of your cervix. His veins grazing at your g spot as the fat girth stretched you to your limit.

“Nah baby, ‘s only me.”

“Kunaa— so goood- ahhh.” Tears pooled in your eyes, Sukuna’s hand reaching into your hair to pull you back into his chest. Your nails clawing at the wall in front of you as he destroyed yours.

“Taking me so fucking well. Shit- pussy’s so damn snug.” He husked, hips snapping noisily into yours as he fucked into your walls mercilessly. Basking in the sounds of your choked screams and mewls. The way you sobbed underneath him when your knees buckled.

He was fucking you so hard and deep. Better than anything you’d felt before. His cock slamming into all the places that would drive you crazy.

“The day you fucking leave me i will break outta here Doc. And i will find you. You’re mine got it?” There was a certain seriousness in his voice that made goosebumps arise on your skin. Your salty tears mixing with your drool as they ran down your flushed face.

“And when i do get outta here you’re gonna have my baby Doc. ‘M gonna fuck you again and again till’ i eventually give you my fuck—ing kid.” His breathing became ragged, your body rocking forward with each of his movements.

He smirked. “I’ve fucked ya this dumb already?” His cock twitching inside you as your body moved with his cock like a fleshlight. Your vision blurred as your head grew light, dizzy. You couldn’t think, every roll of Sukuna’s hips clouding your mind as you let an incoherent babble drip off your tongue. Shakily chanting his name when he reached forward to pinch at your clit.

“Look at you. Look so pretty underneath me like this.” His free hand snaked up to your neck, groaning loudly at the feeling of your heart beat on his skin. Pulling you up so your back rested flat against his broad chest, wandering lips meeting your exposed collarbone. “Let go f’me.”

Your body quivered as you tightened around him. Letting out a whimper-like cry as you came messily on his cock. A breathy moan of his own sounding in your ear when his thrusts began to get sloppy.

“Kunaaa.. inside. Want you inside. ‘M on the pill.” You begged, legs giving way as he held you flush against him.

“Whatever you want, Doc.” Slowly coming to a halt as he buried himself inside your warmth, tongue darting out to lick at your tear stained cheeks. Feeling his cock swell as he pumped you full of his cum. Painted your gummy walls in nothing but white

“Looks like i’m sending you back with my cum dripping down your thighs.” He pulled out with a grin. His cum leaking out of your fluttering cunt in small spurts when he used his hands to knead at the flesh of your ass. “Hottest thing i’ve seen in a while.. after you of course.”

You hummed, eyes shutting as you fell into him. Feeling the thick substance slowly dripping down your legs while spreading over your sticky folds. Sukuna stumbled back onto his bed with you on top of him. Your face nestling into his chest with a soft smile. “Hey Doc.. i love ya but those guards are gon’ be back soon.”

‘So worth it.’ Was the one thought branding itself into your mind as your body registered the rough, lust filled fuck.

“Shit.”

—

You and Sukuna had gotten so much closer over yet another week. You had never believed in falling in love that quickly until now. You couldn’t help it. You felt so much better when he was around. Seeing him was the highlight of your day- especially now that you’d convinced for longer sessions.

He felt the same way. You were the second person he had fallen in love with and somehow even harder. You made his heart.. swell. And he was serious about busting out to start a life with you.

“So, your first love. We never finished talking about her.” You smirked, notepad back in hand as you did your job. Sukuna having been stealing small kisses from you between every question.

“How about we forget about my first love and focus on my current one. You.”

[shouyuus]

please i BEG you to do a part two of the college roommate!vi when she says “dont wake me up this early for breakfast unless you’re offering yourself” (or however it was said) but the reader decides to try and test it and stands in the most revealing pajamas (or even subtle lingerie) and is like “would you care for some breakfast?” and gestures to herself (or whatever you wanna write!!)

18+, mdni, college roommate!vi cinematic universe vague continuation of this drabble

"vi...? are you up?"

you push through her bedroom door, peering around it at the vaguely vi-shaped lump of pink hair and muscle splayed over messy sheets. she lets out a soft grunt, voice scratchy as she pushes up onto her elbows.

"yeah? what's up prin -- oh... shit..." her eyebrows shoot up as you link your hands behind your back, chewing on your bottom lip, eyes cutting away shyly as you rock on the balls of your feet.

and suddenly, vi is very much awake, because there you are, framed in her doorway in the most delectable pink and white lingerie set she's ever seen -- all delicate satin and tiny bows. she gulps, her mouth dry.

"what's all this, sweet girl?"

you tug at the hem of your nearly transparent babydoll as she groans, running a hand through her hair.

"uhm... i know it's early, but --" you worry at your bottom lip before glancing shyly up at her again, "remember that one time i woke you up and you said something like 'don't wake me up this early unless you're offering yourself for breakfast' or something like that?"

vi blinks at you for a solid three seconds before she slumps back into bed with a hoarse laugh, "holy shit -- oh my god -- i did say that, didn't i?"

"mhm..."

"so now..." she sits back up with a dopey grin, patting her mattress, "you're...?" she lets her voice trail off suggestively even as you shuffle forward to slip onto her narrow bed with her. she lets out a low, appreciative moan as she looks you over, her gaze dark and hungry; she doesn't bother hiding the way they linger over your semi-exposed tits or the way her throat bobs as she reaches out to pull you into her lap.

"happy... birthday?" you say, your voice breaking slightly as her palms slide up the smooth skin of your thighs, her fingers already toying with the thin straps of the tiny little thong that's little more than three silken pieces of string connected by identical pink bows.

"mm... oh yeah. that's today, isn't it?" she says, but her voice is distracted as she leans in to press a soft kiss to your collarbone. you gasp, letting your head tip back as she mouths at your skin, running reverent hands up to the bend of your waist, hoisting you up till you're straddling her hips proper.

"y-yeah... and i th-thought -- ah -- y-you --" you let out a pitched whine as she skims her teeth along your collarbones, grinning wolfishly up at you as you tangle your fingers in her hair.

"that you'd surprise me with breakfast in bed?" she asks, hissing as she rocks you down over her, rolling your hips into hers.

"s-something like that --" you breathe out, swallowing hard as she smiles and cradles you to her, touch soft even as she trails needy kisses up the length of your neck till she reaches your lips.

"fuck -- you're so hot -- jesus --" she murmurs, peppering you in open-mouthed kisses, pressing you back till you're pinned beneath her.

"mm -- ngh -- v-violet!"

"shit," vi swears, looking down at you from beneath hooded eyes, her lips parted and pink, her fingers rucking up the thin material of your babydoll so she can tug the thin string of your thong to the side to reveal your already slick folds.

you whimper as she leans down to trail her lips along your stomach, kissing down to hover her mouth over your cunt. she looks up at you and with a teasing smirk and a wink, running a finger through your wetness to tease at your throbbing clit.

"mm -- hell yeah -- happy fuckin' birthday to me," she says, before she lowers her mouth to you and parts you with her tongue.

[cowboybeepboop]

Late Night

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut, gentle and romantic

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Your friendly neighbor Clark Kent comes to your door one evening, allowing for the two of you to finally grow your relationship.

Warnings: This is not proofread what so ever, gentle/sort of shy Clark, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, p in v sex. 

a/n: Idk rn but I genuinely can't wait for David Corenswet to be Superman (Henry Cavill is so hot tho...). I’m already imagining how perfect he's gonna be as Clark Kent. As always, send me any requests you have and I hope you enjoy!

For months now, you had been quietly pining for the man who lived across the hall from me in our unassuming apartment building. His name was Clark Kent, and there was something about him that was utterly endearing. It wasn't just his chiseled jawline or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, but the kindness he exuded, the way he always had a helping hand ready for anyone in need. 

You had become something like friends, sharing the occasional awkward small talk as we passed by with our shopping bags or recyclables. You had seen him in various stages of undress, coming back from his midnight runs, his superhero-like physique hidden under loose-fitting t-shirts and sweatpants. 

Something that had fueled your evening pleasure sessions, everytime your eyes fell closed you could remember the image of his hardened abs, his huge and muscular arms. 

On a warm summer evening, there was a knock at your door. It was Clark, the guy from across the hall. He stood there sheepishly, his hand running through his black hair. 

He wore a white shirt that was unbuttoned and messy. He held a bottle of wine in one hand. "Hey", he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I was wondering if I could get a favor?"

“Sure what’s up?” you give him a small smile, your eyes fall on his exposed chest before quickly flicking back to his face. His heart rate increased as he realized that you could see through the thin fabric of his shirt the toned muscles of his chest covered in a light layer of hair.

He cleared his throat, composing himself, holding up the bottle of wine. "I, umm, I was wondering if I could borrow your corkscrew. I lost mine."

“Yeah, of course. Come on in.” you move to the side, allowing him to come in. Your mind clouding with desire as he towers over you, his cologne filling your senses. 

He steps into your apartment, the tight space meaning his body brushes against yours slightly as he passes. The contact between you both is brief, but it's enough to send a shiver down his spine as he enters.

Your cheeks flush slightly as you realize your own appearance, wearing just a button down top that is unbuttoned enough for him to see your cleavage and your underwear. You awkwardly lead him to the kitchen, arm subconsciously moving to cover your breasts as you turn around, handing him the corkscrew. 

"Uh, thanks." He says as he takes the corkscrew from you. Even with your arm draped over yourself, he can't help but notice the glimpse of exposed skin, his eyes lingering before he catches himself and averts his gaze, forcing himself to stay focused on the task at hand.

He starts to open up the bottle, the action allowing him to look away from your figure for a moment and compose himself, his hands shaking slightly as he tries to concentrate. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing over his. “Oh yeah this thing is weird, you kinda have to do it a particular way.” you murmur, taking the bottle from him as you fumble with the screw. 

He bites his lip as your fingers brush over his, his stomach swirling at the touch of your hand. He watches as you take the bottle from him, his eyes fixated on your every movement as you try to open the bottle.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice low and a bit shaky. His eyes wander down, his gaze drawn to the way your top fits, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. 

“Mhm,” you reply as you pull the cork out, a small splash of wine staining your collar. You bite down on your lip while setting the bottle down, fingers rubbing the fabric. His eyes widen slightly as he watches the droplet of wine slide down your collar, the stains on the fabric making it even more translucent. 

Clark swallows hard, his mind wandering to inappropriate and ungentlemanly thoughts. He clears his throat, trying to look away, but he can't help but notice the way your fingers are now rubbing at the fabric, the motion only drawing his attention further to your chest.

You glance over him, hand falling from your shirt as you give him a soft grin, noticing the way his gaze lingers. 

His gaze flicks up to meet yours, his cheeks flushed. He realizes he's been caught staring, his eyes having been fixated on the way your hand moves over the fabric of your shirt, the motion stirring something deep within him.

"I, umm..." he stutters, his words failing him as he feels his throat dry up. He swallows slowly, forcing himself to focus on something else. "Thanks, for helping me open the bottle," he manages to say.  He shifts on his feet, trying to discreetly adjust himself as he feels his jeans becoming a bit tighter.

“Of course, do you want to share the bottle? Or do you have someone waiting for you?” you move slightly closer to him. 

His heart quickens as you come closer, his mouth going dry as your proximity makes it all that much more difficult to concentrate. He glances down at the bottle sitting on the counter, his mind racing with desire and indecision.

"No," he says, his voice low and a bit huskier than usual. "There's no one waiting for me." He looks back up at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of nervousness and something more forbidden. "I'd like to share the bottle with you."

“Perfect.” You smile, stepping closer as you reach for the cabinet behind him, your chest pressing into his ever so slightly. You open the door, reaching for two glasses ​​his breath hitches as he feels your body press against him, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through him. 

Your chest rubs against his, and he can feel the weight and softness of you against his body. The proximity is driving him mad, his mind clouded by primal desires he's trying to keep in check.

He bites his lip, his knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the counter, trying to maintain his composure. His eyes flutter shut for a moment before he opens them again, his gaze fixed on your every move.

You step back, with the glasses in hand. “We could watch a movie?” you prompt as you pour some wine into the cups, silently enjoying the way he reacted to your touch. 

He nods, his mind still racing as he tries to calm his racing thoughts and the growing hardness in his pants. "Yeah, a movie sounds good," he mutters, his voice coming out a bit more hoarse than he'd liked.

As you pour the wine, his eyes follow your every move, the way your fingers grip the bottle, the way the liquid flows into the glasses. It's all too tantalizing for him. "What do you feel like watching?" He asks, trying to keep his voice level and casual.

“How about you choose?” you hand him a glass, taking yours in hand along with the bottle as you walk into the living room. Taking a seat down on the couch you sip on the wine, your eyes follow his every move, drinking in his muscular form. 

He tries to stay composed, forcing himself to look away and focus on the task at hand. Clark walks over to the DVD collection and scans the titles, his mind unfocused and his thoughts still lingering on you. After a moment of browsing, he picks a movie at random, inserting it into the player.

"All set." He says, returning to the couch and taking a seat beside you. You pull at the hem of your shirt, trying to prevent it from riding up too much while taking another sip of your drink. 

“Great.” you smile, sucking your lip between your teeth as you admire his side profile. He can't help but notice the way you fidget with your shirt, the action drawing his mind to places he shouldn't be going at the moment. 

He struggles to keep his eyes focused on the screen, his gaze keeping wandering over to you, admiring your features and the way the fabric clings to your body. Clark takes a long sip from his glass, the alcohol doing little to calm his racing thoughts and desires. He shifts in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust himself as his jeans grow even tighter.

“Is everything alright?” you notice his movements and set your cup on the coffee table, scooting slightly closer to him. His eyes widen slightly as you move closer, the proximity sending a fresh wave of desire through him. He swallows hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"Yeah," he responds, his voice a little hoarse. "Everything's fine, just...adjusting." He glances over at you, his gaze lingering on your figure, his eyes tracing over the curves where your shirt clings to you, the way your position inadvertently exposes more skin.

“Clark?” your knee brushes against his thigh as you scoot closer. He stiffens as your knee brushes against him, the casual touch sending a jolt through him. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his hands gripping the edge of the couch as he tries to maintain his composure.

When he hears his name, the way you say it, so soft and gentle, almost a whisper, it sends a shiver down his spine. He looks over at you, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze intense and filled with desire. "Yeah?" He manages to respond, his voice a bit shaky.

“Are you.. seeing anyone?” you chew on your cheek as you search his eyes. At your question, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty crosses his face. He holds your gaze, his eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity.

"No," he says finally, his voice steady and sincere. "I'm not seeing anyone." He swallows, his nerves getting the better of him as he wonders where this conversation is going. He can't help but feel a flicker of hope and anxiety at the same time.

Your eyes light up as you press a hand to his thigh, “Then… well I hope i’m not misreading the situation,” you murmur, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. It's unexpected, but oh so welcome. 

His eyes widen for a brief moment, before closing as he melts into the kiss. Every cell in his body seems to come alive, the taste of your lips on his sending him into a dizzying spiral of emotions.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his touch gentle as he leans into the kiss, deepening it as he loses himself in the moment. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip as he presses his chest against yours, pushing your back into the plush fabric of your couch. 

Your bodies meld together, your back sinking into the cushion as he bears down on you. His tongue teases your lip, requesting entry which you give him without hesitation.

His heart races as he feels the soft give of your body against his chest, the heat and pressure of your bodies mingling together.

His hand runs over your side, his touch gentle but firm as it moves over the curves of your body, his hand sneaking under the fabric of your shirt, needing to feel your skin against his. You lean back, gasping for air as his fingers explore your body. 

He takes your gasp as an opportunity to trail his lips along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he nips and kisses his way down your neck.

His hand moves under your shirt, slowly, his fingertips dancing across your bare skin, mapping out each contour and dip of your body. He groans softly against your throat as he feels your warm, supple flesh under his fingers. You feel so good against him, it's almost overwhelming.

“Clark..” you gasp his name as he unbuttons your shirt swiftly. He loves the way you say his name, the sound of it coming from your lips making his own name sound like a prayer.

He unfastens the buttons of your shirt, revealing more and more of your body to his hungry eyes. He peels back the fabric, his hands roaming over your now-exposed skin, his fingers tracing over your stomach and up to your chest.

He presses his mouth to your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, tasting your scent, committing it to memory. “Clark..” you moan his name again, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he kisses down your chest, hands landing on your breasts. 

His name slips from your lips again, the sound like a sweet melody in his ears. He can feel the pressure of your fingers on his shoulders, the touch driving his desire even higher.

His mouth travels down your chest, his kisses feather light and seductive as he moves over your breasts. His hands follow his mouth, palms cupping your breasts as he starts to massage the soft flesh.

He moans against your skin, his touch almost reverent. His body thrums with an aching need, the desire to be closer to you nearly overwhelming as he captures your lips in another hungry kiss. He cups your breasts in his hands, his fingers kneading the supple flesh as they press into your skin. His touch is soft but firm, his hands large enough to cover them completely

Clark pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss but keeping his eyes locked with yours. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving with anticipation. He can feel your heart racing beneath his palms as he gently caresses your breasts. "Are you sure about this?" He whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I don't want to rush you." His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

You smile up at him, placing a soft hand on his cheek. "I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur. The sincerity in your tone sends a thrill through him, confirming that this is what you both want.

He nods, his expression serious as he leans back down to kiss you again. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. He savors the taste of you, the feel of your body pressed against his. His hand slides up to the back of your neck, cradling it as he deepens the kiss, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

As the kiss lingers, he slowly starts to unbutton the rest of your shirt, taking his time to reveal each new inch of your skin. His eyes never leave yours, watching for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. You melt into him, your own hands sliding up to tangle in his hair as the fabric of your shirt falls away.

The moment your skin is fully exposed, the air in the room seems to crackle with tension. He leans down to press a line of soft, wet kisses along your collarbone, feeling your body shiver beneath his touch. He takes a moment to just look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Your cheeks flush with pleasure as he says the words, his eyes devouring your exposed flesh. He takes his time, kissing and caressing every inch of your body, his hands moving in a slow, tantalizing dance that leaves you trembling with need. Each touch is a promise of what's to come, each kiss a declaration of his desire for you.

The room is filled with the sound of your mingled breaths and the soft whispers of your names on each other's lips. The anticipation is almost unbearable, but you both know that the slow burn of this moment is only making the fire between you grow hotter.

Clark finally takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling gently as he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger. You arch your back, gasping at the sensation, your hands tightening in his hair. He teases and worships each peak, his tongue swirling and flicking, drawing out your moans of pleasure.

As you lay there, the warmth of his mouth on your skin, the softness of the couch beneath you, and the gentle pressure of his body above, you can't help but feel that this is exactly where you're meant to be. With each tender kiss and caress, he's claiming you, and you're willingly giving yourself to him.

The movie on the TV becomes background noise as the only thing that matters is the connection growing stronger between you both. His kisses trail down your stomach, his hands skimming over your hips to the waistband of your underwear.

He kisses the skin just above the waistband, the heat of his breath making you squirm. "I want to make this perfect for you," he murmurs, his eyes looking up at you for approval. You nod, unable to form words as your breath catches in your throat.

He takes his time, pulling down your underwear in one smooth motion, exposing your most intimate parts to his gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he looks at you, but he keeps his touches feather-light, his mouth hovering just above your skin without making contact.

Clark takes a deep breath, savoring the moment as he gazes down at your exposed body. He gently kisses the soft skin of your inner thighs, moving closer to the apex of your legs. His eyes are filled with a fiery hunger that makes your heart race even faster. He presses a soft kiss to your mound, feeling you tense up at the contact. 

Then, with a gentle caress, he parts your legs wider, his gaze never leaving yours. You can see the desire in his eyes, and it only fuels the fire burning within you. With a soft sigh, he lowers his mouth to you, his tongue tracing the seam of your folds with the lightest touch. You moan, your body trembling as he starts to explore you, taking his time to learn every curve and sensitive spot. 

Each touch is a declaration of his intention to worship you, to take things slow and savor every second of this shared intimacy. His fingers join his mouth, gently teasing and exploring, bringing you closer to the edge with every stroke. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths and soft whimpers, the only soundtrack to this passionate symphony of desire.

Clark continues his gentle exploration, his tongue circling your clit with a patience that borders on agonizing. He's not in a hurry; he wants to savor every moment of this, to make sure you feel loved and desired. His fingers slide into your wetness, curling gently as he begins to stroke you internally, matching the rhythm of his tongue. 

You can't help but whimper, your eyes squeezed shut as the sensations build within you. He's so attentive, so in tune with your body's responses that you feel like you're floating on a cloud of pure pleasure. Each kiss, each caress is a testament to the connection growing between you, and you know that this is just the beginning of a night that will change everything.

Clark's eyes never leave yours as he shifts his position, aligning his body with yours. His hand moves to guide himself, and with a gentle nod from you, he begins to press into you. His movements are slow and deliberate, his expression one of intense concentration as he tries to read your every reaction. You can feel the tip of him pushing against your entrance, the anticipation of what's to come making you squirm.

As he enters you, he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a soothing balm to the building passion. He's so big, so thick, but he's so gentle that it's almost a surprise when he's fully sheathed inside you. You gasp, your eyes flying open, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation of being filled by him.

He waits, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain or discomfort. When he sees none, he starts to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm that makes your toes curl. Each thrust is met with a soft moan from your lips, his name slipping from your mouth like a prayer as he fills you completely.

The feeling of him inside you is unlike anything you've ever experienced. It's as if your bodies are made for this, as if every inch of him is meant to be connected to every inch of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands sliding down to grip his firm ass as he moves within you.

The room seems to spin around you, the only constant is the feeling of him, the sound of your hearts beating in sync. He kisses you again, his movements becoming more urgent as the passion takes over. You can feel him thickening, growing even more inside you, and you know that he's getting closer to the edge.

You whisper for him to go faster, to give you more, and he responds eagerly, his strokes deepening and quickening. Your body responds in kind, your hips rising to meet his, the friction between you building until it's almost unbearable. You're both so close, the tension coiled tight in your stomachs, ready to snap.

And then, with one final, deep thrust, it does. You cry out, your body arching off the couch as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows shortly after, his own release shaking his body as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

For a moment, you just lay there, your bodies entwined, your hearts racing. Then, with a soft sigh, he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any signs of regret. But all he sees is pure satisfaction, a mirror to what's reflected in his own gaze. He leans down to kiss you gently, a soft promise of more to come.