#so please drop all your tricks and tips

[inkedbydave]

people who managed to forget or move on from your codependent homoerotic friendships formed at a diabolically young age... tips and tricks please? drop the tutorial babes?

[metranart]

Imagine Gojo setting a condition to his Clan for him to give them an heir. "It's HER or no one." The elders aren't happy that he chose a non-sorcerer, but they reluctantly agree... that is, if Gojo manages to convince you.

“Come here-...I’m far from done, kitten.”

God, Gojo still makes you nervous, with his mouth buried between your legs for longer than you can even imagine. Why are you still so nervous? Is it the proximity? Is it the way he leans in to make eye contact while he licks you? Is it those blue piercing eyes? Or that immensely amused smirk that twists his lips just enough so he can keep eating you out?

"Mmmmm... stop moving so much, (Y/N). We are making a mess of my desk..." he purrs, all too pleased to watch your eyes roll to the back of your skull. "That’s my good girl..." the man between your legs, praises, "my future bride to be...-"

"T-...that's still u-...under discussion, S-Satoru." Your quivering protests are sweet chords of music for him, "I already t-.... told you that I d-don't want to be part of the jujutsu world.... nor b-belong to a-.... any clan."

"Not any clan, pretty. MY clan." 

You hear him slurp greedily at your folds and feel a warm trick of saliva run down your ass, and when your mouth is about to throw another protest-... Satoru Gojo makes a vacuum on your quivering clit with that annoying mouth of his. Your thighs tense and the muscles of your stomach follow, a quake that rakes your entire form, making you a pathetic mock of a human.

Both your hands fly to cover your mouth and Satoru chuckles deep, amused rumble that cracks the rest of your self-control. Your cheeks grow in the most adorable shade of pink, and your breathing hastens.

"So CUTE~"

Satoru whimpers, dumb founded, his broad chest puffing with so much fervor, so much blinding endearment that he feels like about to explode. He can see the doubt in your beautifully contorted features, and he dips his tongue inside you, fucking you with that fat tongue to try to make you agree to his terms, to be HIS.

Dammit! You feel… amaaaaaazing. Why? It’s like a flip inside you only he can switch at will—... even so, he’s dangerous, you remember. He’s a special grade sorcerer, you remember. He’s a mystery, he’s unpredictable—he’s invincible, unreadable, impenetrable and lethal with a playful smile, and you really know absolutely nothing about him. 

Yet, he insists that you belong together. He insists on putting his child inside you, he insists that he will take care of you and his life will be yours. He insists that you belong in his world and if you're not there, he won't be there either. He insists on fucking you stupid every chance he gets, bending you over surfaces, of course! Always putting his coat or his shirt or any piece of his clothing, just so your skin never comes into contact with any unworthy surface. He insists, he insists and insists and insists...

“Fuck—” he growls, grabbing your hips, “—why are you... h-how do you manage to always have me wrapped around your little finger—?” 

“I want you, Satoru-u... but I can't-” 

He stops you with a soft but firm, squeeze to your waist. 

“Not like this,” he pants, tipping his head to slowly lick a strip down your sweet cunt, a farewell caress, the whisper of a kiss to his last effort before lunch time is over and he can try again, later. “Let me pretend just for a little longer that you said yes—"

Your gaze drops to his trembling thighs and the warmth that settles in the pit of your tummy is intensified by the clear drop of precum shining at the tip of his gloriously thick and long cock, now achingly swollen and a mouthwatering shade darker in color than the rest of him.  

“I'm yours, Satoru-” you offer in a quiet whisper and can feel him shake his head. “You aren't.... but I’ll make you change your mind. You, just watch me, kitten."

➡️ 👀 NSFW Sneak Peek artwork HERE ;)

➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this story

[screampied]

࣪₊ 𐙚 YOU SAY IT'S BIG BUT U TAKE IT ?! ★

gojo, nanami, toji, sukuna, geto. you come home struck by a love curse and need their help on "recovering" from the after effects. (anon req)

𐚁̸ wc. 3.8k

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, feral reader, love pollen/curse, unprotected, sukuna has two dicks, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f + m receiving), squırting, biting, spanks, dumbification, overstim, brēeding, premature ejaculatıon, mdni.

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

“wha— you’re clingier than usual,” the curse grumbles as you burst through the door. you’re panting steadily. he was almost shirtless with his usual kimono that’s exposing his abs. rickety arms of yours wrap around his waist before you drop right down onto your knees. with a raised eyebrow, he huffs. “eh. should i even ask.”

“no,” you reply within a second. your voice inwas nothing but a pure trembly tune. your body . . it felt hot all over, some stupid pollen or whatever it was was responsible for your feral state. you were even smelling the definition of the word too. you were grateful he didn’t ask, alas instead—he crosses all of his arms before glancing down at you. pawing at his boxers to fall down, it comes down slowly. the wait was killing you as you glance at his huge hardened bulge preparing to be exposed. oh, you’re already drooling. you needed sukuna so bad, your thighs were already quaking. the air surrounding you both suddenly felt scorching and the minuscule goosebumps that reside amongst your skin felt even hotter. “i- i need a taste, ‘kuna. please.”

he hums in amusement. “oh? don’t let me stop you then, horny girl,” and an oversized hand grips onto the crown of your head. with a nod, he views as your eyes light up at the now hefty sight of his two flashy dicks. with a groan—he shudders once he gapes at your tongue and how it licks against the one near the front. “mhm, you little . . minx. good, take it then. enjoy your precious meal.”

sukuna’s in love with your mouth—with your tongue, you’re so sloppy and you just can’t help it.

running your sweet tongue along both areas of his dicks—every part, the base, the length, and even the sensitive frenulum—he groans loudly. it’s an almost roar that echoes through his chambers. both of his dicks which were visibly stacked amongst each other. one was in front while the other was in back. each were the same amounts of thick and broad. thickset and fucking heavy, you bob your head down against the first one until he shoots raw into your mouth within just a few minutes. “fuck, easy, e-easy,” he stammers, feeling you snake a hand against his neglected cock to stroke it, fondling with his heavyset balls.

hearing sukuna stutter does something to you. you couldn’t exactly describe it, but you wanted to hear more of it. his head tilts back slightly as his lips purse, preparing to click his tongue. “ugh, can’t handle you when you suck that good,” and he grabs you by the hair, making you return his lascivious gaze. “look at you. jus’ a cock drunken mess. got m-me,” and he deeply exhales. sukuna chokes on his own words, barely even able to finish his sentence.

you took so much out of him in such little time. truth be told, maybe this love curse whatever it was, was a good thing. spit races down both sides of your mouth as you happily keep his shaft warm into your tight throat. his cum was a lot, a bittery taste of his own lingers on your tongue before he cock taps against the roof of your mouth. if it wasn’t for you doing a simple trick with your fingers, you’d have gag. you wanted more, lathering your tongue against his tip with no shame—you then reach a hand down to play with your pulsing clit.

“mphm.” you mumble inaudibly, feeling him start to push your head further down. a chaffing smile goes against your mouth and he scoffs. you’re making him feel things. things he didn’t even know he could feel. sukuna’s cold heart significantly flutters at the sight of you. it flutters simply at how good you make him feel. it’s a feeling he didn’t want to stop. at least not yet.

“god, ‘m gonna cum again,” he inhales before exhaling lowly. as he does so, his chest collapses back in from his sigh before he’s now facefucking you. the curse’s thigh taps and clenches, muscles creating a flexion within the nerves stored inside before he sees you drooling for more. as the bobbing of your head’s tempo increases, he groans before making you stare dead into his eyes with a simple grip. “nasty girl. comin’ home just to slobber on my dick, look at that f-face, fuuuuck,” and the moment you end up making him cum for about the umpteenth time of the night, he’s embarrassed. face flushed, you’re switching between his dicks to give them both equal amounts of love before he moves you off from sucking him. “brat,” he glares, grabbing your chin as a few sloshing spurts of cum pour down your chin. sukuna then leans in to kiss you, his tongue tweaks against your lips and he tastes own arousal with no shame at all. shame never exists for a man like him—a cursed being like him. you moan, feeling a fang of his gently bite into your bottom lip before he pulls away. in a low, shaky tone, he grumbles. “wipe that smile off your face, woman. this isn’t o-over.”

☆ NANAMI KENTO

“my love?” nanami hoarsely pulls down the newspaper he was reading from his face. the glimmer of the g-shock he wore that wraps around his wrist ricochets against the chandelier hanging above the two of you. eyeing you closely, he leans back against his wooden rocking chair. “how was work? your boss take it easy on you today?”

“kento,” you breathe, getting right on his lap. you’re met with those same gentle fawn irises that’s captured your heart within an instant. a hand of his gently strokes against your waist before he watches you speak in such a needy way. “touch me— please, i want you so bad.”

nanami chortles lowly. “aw, i want you too honey.”

“no . . like, i want you,” and he sees how you’re glancing back at him with feral, blown pupils. nanami could tell how needy you were just from your tone and body language alone. he could never say no to you, his beloved wife. nanami knew you, and most importantly, he knew every inch of your body like the back of his hand . .

the moment he’s got you laid on your back, everything’s lost. it’s as if time comes to an abrupt stop. the moment you feel his thick cock ease it’s way into your cunt, you immensely swallow him whole. “so warm ‘n snug,” he whispers, bringing his lips toward your face to pepper various kisses against your skin. he’s so gentle with you, he always was. he cups your chin before giving you a deep kiss to distract you from the brief tang of you clamping onto him. “how . . do you feel? is this okay—?”

his low voice was so smooth—leisurely, he’s rocking his hips against you before he playfully nibbles near your chin. a hand of his intertwined with your fingers as he waits for your sweet response. “i- i feel hot,” you moan, throwing your arms around him. “more please, ‘ken. makes me throb when you touch me.”

nanami chuckles, a quick piston of his hips and your legs wrap around his slim waist. his cologne swarms around your nostrils before you whine again. you sound so pretty—melodious, each moan that escapes out of you sounds like a harmony within each lewdly musical moment that passes. “so the curse makes you more sensitive for me?” he coos against your neck, another free hand of his rubbing against your tummy. you’re just laid back, taking every appetizing inch of him and your eyes roll and roll to the very backs of your cranium. “my sweet girl,” and his voice—you could get off to it, you were already profusely pulsing from his deeply through strokes regardless. “i’ll touch every inch of this perfect body if it ‘cures’ you, mhm.”

his touch makes you more sensitive though. nanami was sensual, taking his time with you. his pace was not to fast or too slow. just right . .

his fat cock slowly jackhammers itself into you, irregular breaths sounding more and more jagged. as he’s talking you through it against the shell of your ear, you dig your fingertips into his back. as you run a hand down, you feel a tiny mole print against his skin. “kento, r- right there, riiiight there,” and you’re keeping the entirety of his waist hostage with your ankles. “cum in me, your cum’s gonna save me i think . . s-so, please.”

“you say such silly things sometimes, my sweet,” he whispers against your neck, giving it a long suck. you moan from his tongue flicking against the new mark he created before he’s quickening his hips just a tad bit. the bed creaks and sings, it’s as if it’s making a new mixtape with its noises. “but alright, if my baby wants me to fill her up so she can feel better, i’ll do that,” and before he shoots into you—he grabs your chin. “ah, but look at me though,” and he’s panting heavily, sepia-colored strands sticking against the sheet of sweat that goes against his forehead. “look at me. look into my eyes, wifey,” and he sneaks a kiss onto your trembling lips. thrusting into you at brimming speed, he groans. “atta girl, there she is,” he purrs at you, a thumb brushing against your quivering bottom lip. he looked at you as if he loved you, nanami was sweet but a secret filthy man at heart. only for you though. “wanna see that pretty face. think ‘m gonna give you a baby or two while ‘m at it, my love. f-fuck.”

☆ GOJO SATORU

“girl—could be a little nicer y’know,” gojo grumbles as you lightly flick him against his back onto the plump mattress. you were always no match for his unprovoked sass. with a teasing pout, he’s staring right back up at you as you straddle his chin. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you inch your pooling warm entrance against his face. “how do you even get struck by a ‘love’ curse anyway? thought that only happens in fan fiction, heh.”

“just shut up,” you moan, hovering over your boyfriend’s face. he was so pretty — just gawking at him alone had you going more feral. gojo’s eyes, they were always so ethereal looking. a bright blueish cerulean—almost a viridescent green with how it reflects against the bedroom light. “f-fuck, i want you to taste it so bad, ‘toru. want you.”

with an impish smile, he slides the side of your panties aside. “soooo, what are ya waitin’ for? let me eat this ‘curse’ out of you, angel.”

and the moment you plant your sopping wet cunt against his face, he’s ultimately determined to do so. gojo was a messy eater. it was really no denying it. you’re swiping your slick heat against his nose like a credit card and he eats it up everytime. drool pours from the corners of his mouth as he’s gripping your thighs with both hands. doughy padded thumbs of his pierce into your skin as you’re rutting against his face in rapturing pleasure. “like that baby, f-fuck.”

“go on—praise me some more,” he giggles, warm breath fanning against your entrance. your stomach caves and seizes in and out as you’re still moving all around. it doesn’t take long before your legs start to quaver. “call me a good boy, yeah.”

as much as you wanted to eye roll in the most dramatic way, you couldn’t.

you’ve got a firm grip into his white, snowy strands before giving it a solid yank. “g- good boy, ‘s good for me, ‘toru. think your tongue is working,” and your voice was so soft, its delivery was almost a mere whisper. gojo’s sucking against your clit, casually making out with it in such a sloppy way that’s he’s imitating a french kiss. you continuously pulse into his mouth, feeling him breath through his nose before he spanks your sensitive entrance. as he does such a thing, a splash of your own arousal goes onto his face. teasingly, he sticks out his tongue to lick it clean. “f-fuck.” you whine, and he starts to feel himself get hard. not from you calling him a good boy, but the view itself.

the view of you, riding his face, straddling him in such a sexy way makes him feel a raging hard on in his boxers.

oh, the way you were maintaining such eye contact.

so sensual, you use his face for your own pleasure, hearing your heartbeat arise at a more quick through your ears. the sharp edges of gojo’s teeth nibble playfully against your thighs before you whimper once he prods a lengthy finger inside. he’s located your g-spot just like that, immediately moaning aloud before his digit curls up into your gummy walls. “fuck, you’re so hot when you pull my hair, ‘s no fair,” and as you’re whimpering loudly, chewing on the skin of your arm—you end up finishing after a while.

the moment you do, you end up squirting a bit. it comes out in a tiny trickle—gojo’s face lights up as you’re struggling to keep your thighs open for him but he spreads them further apart for you anyway. “shit,” he exhales with a cunning grin, that smug expression you oh so desperately wanted to wipe off. “i didn’t know my girl was a squirter. maybe you should get struck by that love curse again,” and he licks against your pussy for a final time before spanking your folds. “let’s do that again. wanna get you real soaked tonight. i always like my girls messy.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“no way you woke me up just so i could fuck you.” toji deadpans, bringing a hand towards the hair that sticks against his chest, scratching it for four long seconds. two arched brows of his curl into a furrow before he grunts. “i was havin’ a good ass dream too.”

“toji i’m gonna die,” you protest, tugging at his boxers. “i searched up the symptoms a- and it said that if i don’t do anything um— sexual related, ‘m gonna die within four hours.”

“oh boo,” he rolls his eyes, and you moan once you feel the roughness of his palm squeeze against your ass. toji pulls you close to him, so close that you could feel the heat of his body radiate against your own. so close that you could smell his natural manly scent. the strong manly musk, his scent alone had you throbbing right inside of your laced little panties. in a groggy voice, toji leans in to suck against your neck, earning out a mewling whimper from you. “fine, but don’t be surprised if i don’t let ya cum. my dream was really fuckin’ good.”

knowing toji—he was probably dreaming about being a millionaire, but anyway . .

he happily helps with your little issue by fucking you thoroughly into the sheets. harp hips of his penetrate into you again and again. you whine, bratty cacophonous whimpers spew out of your lips as you cling onto the milky, pale sheets. it’s probably been hours, the entire room has a candied aroma of pure desire and intimacy. toji groans as your cunt clamps against him tightly. two scarred hands of grab ahold of your waist before pressing it deeper against him. “mhm, ‘s it workin’ baby? needed a good fuck, baby?”

“y- yes,” you moan, strands of hair almost blinding your eyesight by how it continues to get in your face from the quick paced movement. skin against skin—skin tight. everything felt heavenly. toji’s husky pitched groans only makes you throb even more before he leans right up closer against your ass. “harder, fuck me, ‘toji. pleaseplease. make me cum.”

with his own heavy huffs of breath escaping, he gets all the way up close before raising a foot to press down against your head.

a shrieking gasp comes out of you at the angle. he’s buried so deep now that your pussy stings and smacks from his sack. his hefty sack that hangs. kissing his teeth, toji rolls his eyes back from how good you squeeze around him before groaning once more. “goddamn, y’er a little slut. wakin’ me up for dick, ‘oughta edge the shit out of ya,” and he grabs a nice amount of your hair, making you raise up. the soft, delicate wool of his sock still glides against your skin and you moan from his rude, overzealous tempo. “yeah? should the baby girl cum, or nah. personally, i‘d say no. you were bein’ a brat. 'love curse' my ass.”

you try to sit up but he only pushes you back down, your face smushed against your fluffed out pillow.

“nuh uh, sit the fuck back down,” he snarls, swatting a soft palm against your ass. you’re so close—you moan again as he deepens his hits. his rhythm that was once so decent was now sloppy and merciless. toji’s fat mushroom tip thwacks and thwacks against your clit so much that you could feel it’s delicious curve. it’s a tickling sensation if anything—but the last thing you were doing was laughing. as he tightens his grip a bit, resuming to rock his hips into you, he purrs against your ear in a throaty chuckle. “heh, oh so you can’t speak now? thought ya wanted me to go harder?”

“i- i do,” you try to explain, but it only forms into a sweet meaningless babble. “fuuuuck, ‘s good but take your foot off me, toji. your sock is um.. wet.”

“your sock is um wet,” he mocks you before lowering his foot. you cringe as he pitches his voice—you don’t even sound like that. as he’s still having you arched over, watching as you then hide your face into the crook of your elbow. with a final smack against your ass, he pulls out before letting off an offended, tch. “ungrateful ass.”

☆ GETO SUGURU

“rough day?” geto slyly smiles, watching you struggle to walk into his room. he locks his phone to get a good look at you. you’re heaving insane amounts of breaths, pant after pant squeezing out of your full lungs as if you’d just got down with a marathon. “aw, let me guess. that love curse again? baby, you really gotta stop gettin’ yourself in these positions. it’s silly.”

“suguru,” you whine, collapsing right into his lap. the way you flop onto him was so cute—you’re met with a smug grin and dark, inky eyes that’s taking in all of your features. always so pretty. he smells so good, it’s driving you crazy. “wanna ride you.”

“you always ride me,” he strokes your chin, staring into your eyes lovingly. his hair was pinned into a unkempt yet attractive ponytail. geto gingerly wraps a hand around your throat before whispering against your lips. “so it is that lust curse again, isn’t it? careful. startin’ to think you’re doing this on purpose just to ride me, pretty girl.”

it works every time though—because within minutes later, you’re riding geto on the plump sofa. he was trying to multitask, trying to send an important email but your hips always snapped him back to reality. eventually, his phone slips out of his hand. geto groans at the way your rhythm’s got him in such a chokehold. you’re unhinged, playing with your tits right in front of him that he can’t help but feel against your soft mounds himself.

“s-shit,” he hisses, your body forever an image embedded in his mind that he couldn’t erase. your pussy squelches against his cock and you feel him reach such deep angles all at once. his girth was enough to make your mouth salivate with slippery saliva. mouthwatering, the upward curve of geto’s dick has you going stupid, you’re whining constantly before you lightly shove him back against the cushioned furniture. “slow down, you’re gonna make me c-cum quick, baby, goddamn.”

perhaps your hips alone were the enemy all along, you’re barely giving him a chance to breathe and it turns him onever more. how feral you were—he could see how blown and needy your pupils were. as you wrap your arms around him, still jerking your hips forward, you pull him into a deep, passionate kiss. geto groans right into your mouth, it’s guttural. playfully, you twirl a finger around his hair as you’re fucking him. geto’s hand placement was against your hips, long pretty lashes fluttering every few seconds before he gasps. “baby,” he huffs, a slippery strand of spit leaving your lips as he tugs away. with half-lidded eyes and a flushed face, he moans again, yet this time it’s louder, a bit more pitchy. “i’m gonna c- cum, shit your hips is gonna kill me.“

“don’t waste it p- please,” you plead into his ear, the soft breaths of your voice that exit from your throat makes his dick twitch inside you. you’re still grinding against him, the tempo was so speedy that it gives geto whiplash. he was truly witnessing his life flash before his eyes—all thanks to your precious pussy, featuring your crazed hips. he hardly doesn’t know where to roam his hands—but they remain glued to your waist, attempting to guide you closer. “inside, sugu. spill it ‘n me, make a mess.”

groaning—his head tosses itself back in rapture as he falls into his lewd, anticipated embrace. he’s feeling hot and warm just like you. the warmth your pussy provided him makes him bite his lip.

“fuck, fuck, f-fuuuuck,” he swears once you suddenly pick your hips back up. after a few seconds once you gradually slow down—he’s shooting a warm load of cum into you. so gooey, it fills you to the brim and you slow down finally, still swaying against him to make sure it’s fully plugged full. it pours into you all at once, a whopping amount of seed that’s so much that it oozes between the crevices of your thighs. you rode geto so good that he doesn’t even notice the sofa had ended up collapsing. the sound was short and concise—he’s moaning once you wrap a hand around his throat, feeling the vibrations of his grunts go against your fingertips. “phew,” he swallows, still dumping a good amount of ropy amounts inside before he goes limp against the couch. geto still has your hips in place before he’s gasping for short collected breaths. with glossy eyes, he notices your needy smug grin, not showing one ounce of fatigue. “again, huh? fuck, let me catch my breath first baby, you’re fuckin’ dangerous.”

[writersdrug]

bartender ghost who takes one of your tables who was argumentative and rude after you begged and bargained with him (he only caved when you said you’d ask soap)

Omg he'd totally think he could make you work for it too - you come up grumbling how table three is being so rude and they sent the food back twice, and they're treating you like you spat on your food or something.

"They'd be much nicer if you took them." You say, leaning over the bar.

"An' why's that?" He replies, pouring the contents of a shaker into a salt-rimmed glass.

"You look like you could set them straight."

"'N that's a good thing?"

"You're not afraid to be mean!"

"You jus' smacked the life out of four uni kids last week."

You huff, dropping your forehead against the bar. "You're mean..."

"Y' jus' said I was."

"Pretty please?" You beg, looking up at him. Simon has to steel his gaze to the shaker, pouring liquor and bitters and ingredients into it as he refuses to look at you. You got him last time with this trick - he'd caved like a tower of cards. But now, he's prepared. His eyes don't meet your pout (or your breasts pushing up against the bar), instead focusing on the drink before him.

"Not happenin." He says, shaking the drink with a strong arm. "This is your job, remember?"

You sigh and give up the act. "You can't even say anything to them?"

"Like wot?"

"Like- I dunno, just go as them 'is everythin' ok?' Like you do, you know, all scary."

He chuckles. "Ya got t' stand up for yourself, luv. Can't fight your battles."

You groan in defeat just as Soap pops out from the kitchen, placing two plates of food in front of you. "Got tae bring out yer own scran, Bonnie - 'm not yer food runner."

"Johnny!" You exclaim before he can disappear back into the kitchen. He gives you a quizzical look.

"Could you bring it to the table for me?"

Simon stops pouring the drinks, frozen in his spot.

"I jus' said nae!!"

"Please? They're being assholes about the food-"

"Oi, lower your voice." Simon barks, and you shoot him an apologetic wince.

"They're gonna complain about the food again if you don't talk to them yourself."

"Bullshit, I'm not doin' tha'."

Ghost smirked behind his mask. Taught Johnny well.

"I'll give you half of their tip."

Soap paused. "Nae, gimme the shot where ye slap me after."

"Deal!"

"No- no deal-" Simon growled, putting his drinks on the bar. He's not letting you drench Soap in water and slap him across the face, because he knows the lad will be more turned on than a lightswitch. "Fuckin' animals you two." He grabs the plates, and glares down at you. "'M not doin' this for you again."

"I won't ask again - promise." You giggle, and he wants to be mad at you, he wants to hate the sound... but he'd make a fool out of himself a thousand times, over and over, just like this, to see you looking up at him with that smile - you know you've got him wrapped around your finger, he fears, grumbling as he goes to have a chat with the bothersome table.

[needypisces]

there's only so much a body can work out, a body can do

Art Donaldson was exhausted.

He was playing tennis for hours a day, exams were coming up, and with Patrick calling from a new time zone every week, he was barely getting any sleep. Even sliding facedown onto the bed next to you offered little relief for his aching muscles.

You let out a sympathetic cluck at his frustrated sigh, dropping your book and winding a hand into his shaggy hair to scratch reassuringly at his scalp. “Poor baby,” you said. “You’re wound up way too tight.”

He didn’t reply, but you could hear his exhale into the mattress. “You need to relax.” You continued, twisting a loose curl around your finger.

“I’m not so good at that.” He admitted in a muffled voice.

“You just need some help.” You paused for a moment, eyeing the tension in his shoulders, the slight arch of his back. “Why don’t you lie down?”

Art tilted his chin up to look at you. “I am lying down.”

“On your back.”

He scanned your eyes briefly before obeying, shirt riding up his toned stomach in the process. “Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that.” You agreed. You sat beside him and he shifted slightly to maintain better eye contact, bringing up an arm to rest behind his head. The movement drew your gaze to his taut bicep, and you couldn’t resist bending down to bite it, just barely hard enough to sting.

You smiled into Art’s skin at his surprised inhale, but you were the one caught off guard when his other arm swept you seamlessly into his lap.

“Hey!” You said, sitting up straight. “Hands to yourself.” He pouted, hand still gripping your hip, but you weren’t joking. When you started to lift yourself off, he caved.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He said, propping himself up with both arms now. “You’re in charge.”

“Don’t forget it.” You warned. He watched, chastised, as you dropped your own hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up until it bunched at his collarbone. Then, finally, you leaned down to kiss him.

Art was a needy kisser, always waiting for you to guide him, chasing your mouth with his own any time you tried to pull back, whimpering when you licked at the inside of his mouth. You loved kissing him, loved how much it worked him up. He was still a teenage boy, after all.

Once you could feel him properly hard beneath you, you began to descend, teeth scraping his jawbone, his collarbone, his nipple, followed soothingly by your tongue each time. Art’s abdomen was tense beneath your mouth as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his ribs, his navel, his hips.

The tip of his cock was already sticky when you pulled down his boxers and grasped him in your fist, and you wasted no time in leaning down to tongue his slit. Normally you’d tease him much longer, make him beg, but right now, you just wanted to make him feel better. Art could hardly believe his luck.

You pumped the base of him with one hand and cupped his balls with the other as you suckled at his head. A whine escaped from high in the back of Art’s throat, and it only encouraged you to swallow more of him down.

“Oh,” he gasped, hips bucking into your mouth. “Fuck, please, please.” You moved a hand to rub his thigh reassuringly, a wordless promise, and lowered yourself further until your nose nestled against his pelvis. Art was panting desperately above you, the noises so sweet you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against his leg. He moaned at the feeling of your wetness, which only spurred you on more. For a while, the only sounds in the room were your slurps and gags against Art's cries.

Before long, you could feel the familiar signs of his impending orgasm, and you popped off. It took Art a moment too long to comprehend that you were speaking, too mesmerized by the string of drool connecting you to his dick.

“Where do you want to come, baby?” You asked again, hand continuing your work. “Hmm?”

“Is this a trick question?” He asked between shallow breaths.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and Art’s chest flushed pink. “No.” You promised, ducking to mouth at his balls. “Anywhere you want. Do you want to come in my mouth? On my face, or on my tits?” His face was beautifully unforgettable when you glanced up, eyes dazed and cheeks glowing as he tried to form a thought. “Come on, princess, use your words.”

At that, Art’s cock twitched in your grasp and you took him back into your mouth, tongue working at the underside. “On your face,” he finally said above you, and your stomach swelled. “Wanna come on your face.”

“Okay, baby,” you murmured. “Anything for you.” You pulled off long enough to soak two fingers in your spit, simultaneously gulping him back down and pressing the pads of your fingers behind his balls. Art clenched down and let out a strangled moan as you rubbed over his hole. You teased him with the tip of a finger, nudging at the muscle but not quite penetrating him, soaking up the mewls that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna- you’re gonna make me come,” he panted. His thighs were quivering; he was so close, the tension ready to drain from his body. You gave an encouraging hum, swallowing around his cock, and Art’s gasp broke into a sob as he came. You kept him in your mouth for a moment, letting yourself swallow just a little before pulling off to let him splatter onto your face. Art’s whimpers were delicious as he watched himself coat your swollen lips, your long lashes.

“Good boy,” you cooed, fist still working his cock even as he began to flinch from the overstimulation. “That’s it, does that feel better?”

Art’s head was tipped back as he struggled to catch his breath, but even still, his eyes refused to move from the mess on your face. You kept your eyes on his as you lowered your mouth once more, lapping at the dribble of cum down his cock. He started to whine in protest, it was too much, but you took pity and let him go, rocking back on your heels.

“So much better,” he whispered. “That felt so good, I needed it, thank you."

“Good.” You said, licking your lips. “That’s what I like to hear.”

[luveline]

hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!

thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 

You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 

It’s not fun. 

You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 

Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 

The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird

A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 

You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 

You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 

You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 

I miss you too, you text back. 

Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later

Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 

You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 

“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 

“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 

“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 

He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 

He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 

You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 

He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 

“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.

“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 

You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.

“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 

“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 

“I don’t want mystery with you.” 

Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 

“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 

You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 

“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 

You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 

Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.

Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 

[hellsslibrary]

For an obey me request can I have some pillow princess belphie? Ik he wouldn’t do any work when having sex lol. Dom top male reader pls!

"Shh, baby, you don't have to... Or I'm joking, mmm?"

#a.n. : The internship at the university is over, so... :)

!!Warnings : top!dom!male!reader, sub!bottom!Belphie, A HUGE amount of teasing (the whole sex is based on their idea), praise kink, complaints from Belphie, but they are playful, raw penetration, open ending, mostly focused on foreplay (because I love foreplay too much, yeah), Belphie in demonic form and... Weird use of his tail (nothing nasty or scary though, it's funny), handjob, fingering, the reader is the MC, it is implied that the reader is larger than Belphie.

"Belphie... Don't be so grumpy. It'll be fine anyway. You don't have to try, I'll do all the work... Please?" You ask for probably the hundredth time and Belphegor just sighs, but otherwise doesn't move, lying too comfortably right now.

You've been trying to convince him to have sex for the last fifteen minutes, but he told you that he was more lazy than usual today. And he just didn't want to even move, but your words kept creeping further and further under the cortex of his brain, wanting to agree, despite his laziness. After all, how could he refuse his favorite and only human?

"Well, if you say you'll do all the work, MC, then fine..." He mumbles, lazily rolling over onto his back, getting comfortable, fidgeting for about half a minute, and then just freezing.

"Thank you, thank you! You really don't have to do anything!... Or maybe I'm kidding," You let out a chuckle, which is quickly silenced when Belphegor's tail wraps around your head, covering your mouth, but then drops back down.

"You do all the work," He mumbles, letting his legs fall to the sides and looking at you silently, waiting.

And of course, you don't keep him waiting. Your hands move down to his black sweatpants, slipping your hand under the waistband and pushing them down far too slowly for Belphegor's liking.

"You said you'd be quick... I'm sleepy," He complains, lightly slapping your knee with the tip of his tail, but otherwise doesn't complain, remaining slightly embarrassed by how the tent in his underwear has become much more visible.

"Who's keeping you awake? You can fall asleep just fine. You've fallen asleep just fine the last few times."

The demon just sighs, closing his eyes, letting out a ragged breath as you squeeze his cock through his underwear. His slender hips twitch, wanting more contact, wanting relief. And he whines as your fingers hook into the elastic again, this time on his underwear, pulling it down.

Your hand wraps around his cock, taking up the part from the base to the part below the head. A whimper escapes the brunette's lips as your thumb runs along his slit, lubricating the precum from there onto some part of his cock, making your movements a little easier.

His cock stands tall and proud, twitching at your direct gaze directed at it. The head is already dripping with precum, which is a little premature considering you've done literally nothing. But hey, who's complaining?

"Well? Are you going to make me cum or something?" He asks slightly annoyed, trying to spank your knee with his tail again, but you hold it in your free hand, watching as his cock hardens even more.

"Maybe I tricked you and you'll have to push into my hand. What do you say then?" You answer with obvious mockery, not paying attention to how his tail continues to spank your wrist more than once, and Belphegor's eyes literally began to glow.

"MC..." He drawls in an unreadable tone, although from his face it is clear that it is more of a plea.

His eyebrows are arched in such a manner as if he is about to cry; crystal tears will flow from his eyes, pouring down his cheeks red from excitement and embarrassment, falling down onto his still untouched neck. His pupils are dilated, his irises glow a pleasant purple hue, crystal drops glitter on his long eyelashes. His lips, which are slightly bitten and plump from this, twitch and shine with moisture; they are slightly open from the heavy breathing of their owner from the sensations that he is going through.

And oh God, he looks simply inimitable and so beautiful that you can’t continue teasing him (he is a small manipulator, he-he). Your palm slightly squeezes on his shaft and you begin to move your hand in a slightly faster, rhythmic tempo, which makes his back arch incredibly.

You can’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathe in his scent, feel his clearly accelerated pulse under your lips. A groan escapes his lips as he feels you bite that spot, and then your lips suck on it, leaving a mark that will turn into a bright purple hickey later.

"M-MC... I can't cum like this, please..." He practically chirps, grabbing your shoulder, pulling his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"Shh, you're doing great, dear. You can cum for me like this, right? Come on, try... I'll make it a hundred times better for you later," You whisper, moving your lips higher, kissing the patch of skin behind his ear, making him shudder.

Your hoarse whisper, your hand on his hot cock, your scent so close, your gaze only on him... And as soon as he feels his precum start to flow down, over his balls, and even lower, he cums. Not even trying to hide a single sound, too focused on one single task. He is feeling good. And it's your fault.

"Well done, I'm so proud of you... You came so fast and so much, it's amazing for you," You coos soothingly, kissing his cheeks and brushing the hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, revealing his face in full.

"Fingering?" You ask, looking down at your hand, pulling it away from his cock, wiping his cum onto the sheets that would be ruined even more later.

He nods silently, probably unable to even attempt to say anything coherent right now, so you simply spread his legs further, reaching for the packet of lube in your pants pocket.

"Are you sure you're ready? I can wait a bit," You ask again, earning the inevitable kick to the knee from his tail, and he just shakes his head.

"I'm a demon, I'm not even overstimulated... yet," Belphegor mumbles, barely managing to form anything normal, and only spreading his legs wider.

You rip the packet apart with your teeth, pouring the contents onto your fingers and then sliding both fingers in at once, which he accepts with absolutely no problem.

"I didn't bring a condom, by the way..." He just waves your words away, already holding his eyes closed, while fat tears form in the corners of his eyes, which you kiss to keep them from rolling down.

He wraps his legs around your waist lazily, causing you to even hold one of his thighs... This brat, ugh. Your fingers slide in and out of his velvet walls, which wrap around your fingers, not wanting to let you go. Obviously desperate whines escape his lips as you purposely hit his prostate every time.

"Just fuck me already... Or I'll ban you from sex for a month."

You just blink like an owl at this threat. Obviously not real, though. But you still comply, pulling your own pants down with your clean hand and sighing in relief when your cock is finally out.

Your dirty hand coats your cock in the remnants of lube and you grab his hips, inhaling and lining up your tip with his entrance. You both moan at the same time as you slowly begin to push in until you bottom out inside him.

"I wasn't kidding about banning it."

You hold still, giving him time to adjust, and yourself too, to be honest. You feel like you're about to cum just from the look on his face, you exhale and he opens his eyes.

He tightens around you, making you hiss and start thrusting into him, causing him to fall back against the pillows in relief, grabbing the sheets underneath them. And you just realize that no matter how much he insists on 'faster', you're not leaving here until at least half of his stamina is gone... Oh well, here we fo again.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Platonic Yan! Dick Grayson w/ batsis darling

A/N: I'm sorry. I love crazy Dick. WHat can sayyy..

concept: You instantly don't take a liking to Dick. Something about him makes you uncomfortable. He's obsessed with being your favorite sibling and making you love him back...even if he has to wring it out of you. (Any version of Dick)

Warnings; Obsession, intimidation and possessive behaviors

Requests: always open. please read pinned post/masterlist

Masterlist

Yandere Dick is a good big brother. He still finds time out of his hectic life to spend with all of his siblings. He remembers all of their interests, a shoulder to cry on and an overall positive reinforcement for the bunch. When you first got in the family, everyone told you over and over, just how perfect he was. There was no better brother than he.

But would i be wrong to say i love the idea of Dick Grayson having a vicious temper? I mean it's hidden perfectly behind is charming smile and good-willed nature.

From the moment you met him, you never truly felt at ease. There was just something off about him that set off alarm bells in your head. You didn't feel safe...you didn't want to be alone with him. It was a guilty feeling seeing as everyone else took to him so well. He was more than welcoming to you so you didn't know why you felt this way.

Dick could sense your unease with him, much to his dismay. He didn't like that one bit. It pissed him off really. In what world someone didn't like him? especially one of the little brats Bruce waddled in. You need to feel comfortable with him, he's a perfectionist that takes nothing less.

Yandere Dick Grayson is obsessed with being your favorite sibling. He's achieved it with all the others, you're no exception. But you avoid him at every single turn. Literally. You've rejected movie nights, dinner invitations, gifts, and other kind gestures. His self worth is rather outward and you're hurting him very badly right now. Why can't you see that? stop being difficult and love your big bro.

As time progresses you can see more cracks coming through. The others cannot possibly notice a flaw in him but you see it all. You know he's eager to be close with you but your body just won't let you. He terrifies you. Especially when you are hanging out with another sibling or texting them.

You don't ever reach out to him. You don't care about him like you did with the others. Why don't you care? You ghosted ever message he's ever sent you. He constantly asks if you're okay or if you want food but you just cannot be bothered to reply. To you it's a trap. You're scared if you give him an inch that he'll run a mile. (which he would)

He becomes visibly irritable with you. He'll grit his teeth through his stunning smile and his seemingly playful words laced with venom. They're soft enough that the others brush it off but you can read between the lines. Other times if you're eating family dinner, and he's upset with you chatting it up with someone, he'll serve you last and the least amount of food.

Dick's last resort was to just forcefully get you alone together for a brother-sister bonding experience. He tricked you in saying the others were meeting at a pizza place after their patrol and offered to drive you over since he was about to leave. You get there, awkwardly sitting at a booth alone with him. He's trying his best to strike up a conversation and patch things up but you're completely silent. You barely even look at him, your eyes are constantly scanning the room for your siblings expected arrival. Hoping one of them would come and save you.

To his glee, you had eventually spoken up but only to ask when the others were supposed to arrive. His smile dropped and the blood in his hands could’ve burst out from how tightly his fists were clenched.

This is his tipping point. You ignored him all this time and the second you decided to speak up it's about them? Something switched in Dick.

It was a strange sight to see. His eyes eyes were completely glossed over and dilated with a murderous intensity. They're wide as they shot through you. His jaw tightened as he thought about how he wanted to hurt you like you're doing with him. You wanna play mental games with him? So be it. He should torture his love right into you. He's got a perfect method aaaalll picked out. You're giving him a run for his money and he's all out of it.

"Jealousy is endearing, don't you think?" His tone was deceptively playful, you knew he was anything but happy at the moment. The unease in his demeanor was enough to cause you to shift in your seat and lean back against the plush of the booth's backboard.

You hesitantly questioned what he could've possibly meant by that to his reply of,

"I just understand your game now. You enjoy making me jealous, it's fun to you. This is all a playful ruse to get more of my attention?...Right?” He shook his head and let out a deep, twisted chuckle.

“You didn't have to do all of this, baby bird. I would've made more than enough time for you had you asked. But i forgive you, if that's all this was?" He leaned in over the table, inches away from your face. His brows furrowed and the intimidation from his eye contact was enough to make you crumble. He was a dangerous person, capable of so many things. He would physically hurt you or his siblings but he’ll find a way to make sure he was number one.

The honest answer to his question was No, this wasn't a game. You just didn't like him. That was all.

But you knew what this was. He was giving you a way out before he gave into the thoughts swarming his mind. There was only one right answer. Give up the gun, say yes, and embrace your brother. He only wants a relationship with you. He's the best there ever was at his job so please, stop being a hard-ass and love him back...

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Please, Master, let me go out and make more money for you today! I want more! I need to please more men, ooo you can take me to that homeless shelter and drop me off for the night so I can satisfy those poor, lonely men! And maybe catch a new bug or two! ❤️"

"Tiffany, I just spent an hour cleaning all that cum and piss off you, you filthy little whore. I can't let you back out, my pet."

"Awww, please! I need cock! I want to make you lots and lots of money, it's my purpose, Master! Please, I beg you!"

"Ughhhh, so bratty. I didn't think you'd turn out this way. I guess a few years of mindless sex and pushing out kids has turned your poor brain to mush. OK, I better let you go."

"Let me go, what do you mean, Master?"

The man snapped his fingers four times in quick succession.

Tiffany blinked a few times, confused, suddenly realizing she's naked. She covered her breasts, completely horrified. "Oh my god, what the fuck is going on!? Huh? My body......? My boobs are huge! Why do I have so many tattoos? I don't under--my belly! No, no, no, no, no! I can't be pregnant, what happened!?" She looked up. "Who are you, why would you.... wait, no...... I know you. You were that magician."

He gestured like he was tipping his hat. "At the county fair. Remember how skeptical you were?"

"Wait, no way. You actually hypnotized me!? I never would've gotten on that stage if any of this was real! You monster, what did you do to me?"

"What day is it? And how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen! It's June 22nd, 2022!"

"Wrong, my pet, you're 22, it's June 16th, 2025."

Tiffany loosened her arms around her engorged breasts. "How could you..... I just thought you'd do some dumb trick, you hypnotized me for three years, into what? Your girlfriend? And did you seriously knock me up? That's disgusting!"

"You aren't my girlfriend, you're my plaything. You were so annoying on stage, not playing along at all, not flirting, not having fun with my show, you just folded your arms and acted so nasty to me and my audience, I simply had to put you in your place. And I didn't get you pregnant, you sleep with hundreds of men every week, there's simply no way of knowing who the father is. Oh, and this is your fourth pregnancy, you've already given birth to fourteen children. Triplets. Quintuplets, and sextuplets. You're actually only five months along right now so you might very well be carrying octuplets for all I know."

Tiffany was devastated, rubbing her thighs together. She felt her big pregnant belly, she looked at her breasts and tattoos. "I feel.... hot."

"Hm? The bath's probably lukewarm at best now."

"No, I--oh......" Tiffany reached between her legs, to her extremely swollen, over-fucked, disease-ridden pussy. "Oh my god! It hurts! It itches so good.... wow!"

"Yeah, you probably have every STD in the book. As my pet you were quite proud of getting them."

"I can see why..... I mean, um, this is so gross! I can't believe you did this to..... mmmmmmm. Oh wow." Tiffany giggled, shamelessly rubbing her sex in the bath, right in front of her captor. "It never used to feel this good! Oh my god, oh fuck. I think...... sir, I really think I need sex. Do I take drugs, too? I think I need some....."

"Indeed, you're quite partial to taking a big dose of heroin, getting so high you're barely conscious, and letting a whole club or bar's worth of men fuck your brains out all night..... You don't seriously want to go back to any of these behaviors, right?"

"Uh-huh!" Tiffany enthusiastically nodded, licking her lips. "Am I still in college? Doesn't matter, ooooo, I can't wait to show my new body to my friends and family and show them what a whore I am! Do you think I can go out after my bath and take my new body out on a test run? I don't know how good I'll be at making money for you anymore, but I'll try, Master!"

"I knew three years was too long....." He sighed. "Poor thing, I really scrambled your independent, clever brain. I guess you're my responsibility now. I was going to do some shows and train a new girl instead...."

"Let's do it! I can be your assistant! Then I can have a slutty sister I teach to whore with me, and we can get pregnant together, and rub our swollen, diseased pussies together! Won't that be wonderful?"

The man drained the water, patting Tiffany's body. "OK, my pet, I'll get you reacclimated to your duties as my whore. And get you a sister or two to have fun with later this week."

"You're the best Master a dumb, cock-obsessed slut like me could ever ask for!"

[capquinn]

I think abt decorating the apartment with Quinn and then he tricks you into getting under the mistletoe with him and goes “oh you remember the rules”

blushing and kicking my feet picturing this. what a sweet thought 😭🥹

It happens when you least expect it.

One moment, you’re carefully arranging stockings along the mantle — because Quinn’s first attempt had them completely uneven and absolutely not aesthetically pleasing — and the next, he’s suddenly loitering in the doorway to the kitchen with that look on his face. The one that says he’s up to something.

“Hey, can you come here for a sec?” he calls, his tone so casual it immediately puts you on edge.

You glance over your shoulder, already suspicious. “If you’ve tangled the lights again…”

He laughs, shaking his head, hands tucked behind his back like he’s hiding something. “Nope. Lights are good. Just come here.”

You hesitate, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why do I feel like you’re up to something?”

“I’m not up to anything,” he insists, but his grin is too big, too playful to be convincing.

Against your better judgment, you leave the stockings and make your way toward him. The closer you get, the more obvious it becomes that he’s hiding something.

“Alright,” you say, stopping just shy of the doorway. “What is it?”

He tilts his head ever so slightly, feigning innocence as his gaze flicks upward.

That’s when you see it: the small sprig of mistletoe dangling right above where he’s standing.

Your jaw drops as you look back at him, and he’s already grinning, the picture of shameless mischief.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he says, glancing up toward the mistletoe like it’s just magically appeared, his voice dripping with mock surprise.

“You actually put up mistletoe,” you say, crossing your arms but stepping closer anyway.

He nods, completely unfazed. “It’s festive. Classic. Very on theme,” he says, his tone so casual it’s almost believable. Almost.

“All this just to sneak a kiss?” you tease, shaking your head, though you can’t stop the grin that creeps in.

He shrugs, the picture of feigned nonchalance, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that gives him away. As you come to a stop in front of him, his hands slide to your waist, his touch light but firm enough to pull you closer.

“You know the rules,” he murmurs, his lips quirking up in that boyish grin that always gets to you.

You roll your eyes but don’t pull away, letting his thumbs brush against your sides as his nose dips, brushing against yours.

“Feels a little desperate, Quinn,” you tease softly, your hands slipping up to rest on his chest. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he murmurs, dipping his head slightly to press a quick kiss to your hair. His breath is warm, the soft affection in the gesture making your stomach flip in that familiar way only he can manage.

“Very smooth,” you say, tipping your head back to meet his gaze, eyes sparkling. “Did you rehearse this?”

He hums thoughtfully, his forehead dropping to rest lightly against yours. “You think I need to rehearse to get a kiss from you?”

“Maybe,” you tease back, your lips twitching. “Depends on how much you want it.”

His laugh is quiet, his nose brushing against yours again before his lips find your cheek. “More than you’d think,” he says softly, his voice dropping just enough to send a warmth blooming in your chest.

You lean into him now, your hands curling into the fabric of his sweater. “So what now, Hughes? Are we just gonna stand here, or are you gonna—”

Before you can finish, his lips are on yours, soft and deliberate, stealing the rest of your words in a kiss that’s as playful as it is tender. His hands tighten at your waist, pulling you closer with a quiet ease, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your side. The kiss deepens naturally, unhurried and warm, his nose brushing against yours in a way that feels achingly intimate. There’s no rush, just the quiet certainty of his touch, his lips lingering on yours like he’s savouring the moment, like he doesn’t want it to end. When he finally pulls back, his breath mingles with yours, and the faintest smile curves his lips — soft, teasing, a little smug.

“Still think it’s desperate?” he murmurs, his voice low, warm, and entirely too pleased with himself.

“Maybe,” you reply, breathless but grinning, rising onto your toes. You press a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips, just enough to leave him leaning in for more. “But it’s working for you.”

[obxsprincess]

just imagining aphrodites daughter working in the camp medic, because somehow you never get sick

you feel so useless though :( n you hated it. almost all the older boys fake a sickness just to see you, telling you how pretty you are, n’ trying every trick in the book to make you swoon. you had no problem giving them a sweet smile before shutting the door in their faces

you had no problem doing it… until luke fucking castellan started coming.

“you know it’s late right?” his voice makes you jump, dropping the bandages only moments ago you were trying to organize

you squeak as you feel two hands wrap around your waist, turning you too him he laughs. wide eyes finding his, body pressed against yours you had no idea he was right behind you !

”god, luke! you scared me!”

“n’ now I have to pick up all these band-”

n he doesn’t answer, instead pulling you closer, goosebumps kissing every part of your body that touches his

your breath hitches in your throat, hands finding his chest for balance as a smile tugs on his lips

still silent, his hand curls around the counter top behind you, pinning you against it and him as he slowly kneels down. picking up the few bandages that fell and placing them back up. his brown eyes never lefts yours, like the teasing bastard he was

you swear you can’t really breathe, and you know he knows that as he finally stands back up, that god for saken smile plastured on his lips !

“sorry about that-“ his breath fans your neck “but I missed you” your head spinned, n you’d have thought he was actually sick from the feverish touch of his lips against your skin, your collarbone, your jaw

warm, dizzy, and desperate. that’s how luke kissed, and how he made you feel… fuck !

head tipping back n your hands tugged at his shirt

he pulls away for a moment, hands gliding down your waist, down your hips “do you want me to stop?”

you both were panting “n-no. please luke, just kiss me”

that same god damn smile “I have a fever though, love”

he’s such a taunting asshole ! you rolled your eyes, smashing his lips against yours before luke could notice that curl the that tugged at yours

he groaned, lifting you on top of the counter, your pretty legs wrapping around his middle

his hands explored your body, so soft under his hands. lukes abs pressed against your beginning to throb sex. it was so much, n not enough all in one

”I-I hate you, castellan” you somehow manage, squeaking as his tongue glides against your lips. mirroring his hands sliding lower n lower

“mhm do ya? the feelings mutuel, baby”

if the passionate, feverish, addiction-laced way he ate you out could be considered hate, than he definitely did

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary:��you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your legs feel empty, like there’s no blood flowing beneath your waist. You walk beside Rogers, feeling as if you might fall on your face at any time. That’s probably not a good idea seeing as you’ve already knocked out twice within the last hour or two. 

He stops and steps ahead of you. He points to a door before he pushes it open, “in here.” 

You enter as he waits. For a moment, you worry it could be a sinister trick. That he’ll slam the door and lock you in. But why would he do that? Well, why would he beat a man in the middle of the street? 

Thinking of it again, you feel nauseous. 

You look around the room. There’s a desk with folders stacked on it. The chair looks like it was manufactured during your great grandfather’s war and the rug can’t be much newer. The curtains are damask and the walls are real hardwood. 

“It’s... nice,” you say, “vintage. Looks like the floor’s been refinished.” 

“You’re not here to discuss the decor,” he retorts. 

“Of course,” you agree as you twiddle your fingers. “What exactly am I here for, er, sir?” 

“You’re an accountant.” He states. 

“I am.” 

He sighs and crosses to the desk. You cautiously follow. You could tip over all over again. 

“Sir, do you mind if I sit?” You ask. 

He just waves a hand toward the chair. You thank him and gratefully claim the seat. Who knew fainting was so exhausting? 

“Man named Warren. I need you to tally it all up. Tell me what you find.” He explains.  

“Alright, so I’m balancing his ledger,” you nod. 

“Sure,” Rogers sniffs and tucks his hands into his pockets. He backs up and paces across the end of the rug. “You need some water? You gonna check out again?” 

“Oh, I have some,” you put your briefcase on the desk and pull out your water bottle. “Thank you. That’s super kind. I can, uh, start on all this.” 

He turns back to you, “fine.” 

You smile as best you can as his hand runs up his lapel and draws your attention. Again, his knuckles fill you with queasiness. The bruises are the cherry on top of this whole messed up situation. 

He pulls his hand back and looks at it. You realise he caught you staring. You clear your throat. 

“Looks pretty bad,” he remarks. 

“Um, yeah. Pretty bad,” you agree softly. “Look like they’re swelling. Could probably use some ice.” 

He examines his hand further and clicks his tongue, “probably.” He drops his arm. “Well, get to work. Don’t got time to waste.” 

“Got it,” you assure him and reach for a folder. 

He goes and you glance up right as he disappears through the door. He might be gone but your anxiety lingers. These are dangerous men, this is a dangerous place. 

While you wouldn’t want an old lady like Geraldine caught up in all of this, why did it have to be you? It’s just like Mr. Brenner to be tangled up with criminals. And now you’re looking through promissory letters and gum wrappers with scribbles on them. This isn’t going to be easy, especially without a computer. 

Rogers returns. He sits in the leather armchair near the window. He holds a bundle wrapped in a cloth against his hand. It must be ice. 

You pull out a receipt. Half of it is illegible beneath the crimson stain. Little droplets trail over the numbers you can kind of make out. Oh. 

“Is that blood?” You ask out loud, then feel yourself plunging forward. 

Your head hits the desk. You’re a bit foggy but still awake. You gurgle and push yourself up. You fall stiffly back against the chair and it lurches with your weight. 

Rogers appears across the desk from you. You stare at him as you grip the armrest and blow out between your lips. He squints as he comes around to your side. 

“Hey, sweetheart, stay with me,” he grabs your chin and you whimper. “Eh, don’t--” 

He taps your cheek with his fingers. It’s a gentle gesture. His hand is cold from the ice. 

“I’m good,” your murmur. “I just... I’m not a violent person.” You carefully touch his wrist and he lets you go. “Not that I’m saying anything about you. Or what happened earlier. I’m just... look at me, right? Just an accountant.” 

He nods.  

“You think I overreacted,” he intones. 

“I didn’t say... it’s none of my business, right?” You move aside the bloody receipt and wheel closer to the desk. “Numbers are my business.” 

He hums, “sure.” 

You concentrate, or pretend to, on the folder before you. There’s a lot to sort out, and you mean, more than the clutter. Your mind is racing and you can’t quite decipher anything you’re reading with the fear coursing through you. 

“I’ll be back,” he says abruptly as he backs away. “Don't leave this room.” 

You don’t need him to give the command. You wouldn’t dare wander around this place on your own. You nod, “I won’t, sir.” 

He spins on his heel and struts across the office. You only look up as he gets to the door. He leaves and you lean back in the chair. You can’t let your panic take over. The quicker you get through this, the quicker you can get out of here, and hopefully, never ever come back. 

You set yourself straight, fixing your posture, and set to your mission. You might not have the most experience, but you’re determined and you do know what you’re doing. All those places that never replied or sent you those template rejections, they have no idea. 

You hunker down, filling the margins in the ledger, row by row. You are enthralled the more you do. It’s like a story unfolding before you. Dates, amounts, locations. Huh, well, this might be some bad news. You really don’t want to be the one to deliver it. 

Don’t be too eager. That’s only the first folder. You scratch down another number and flinch as something lands on the desk. 

You sit up and stare at the paper bag. Rogers watches you across the desk. Your brows twitch in confusion. He huffs and opens the top of the bag. 

“Figured you might not pass out if you eat something,” he takes out a wrapped bagel and holds it out. “Cream cheese, sesame seed.” 

“Oh, yum, I mean, thanks,” you accept it. “That’s really... considerate.” 

“I can be,” his eyes narrow. 

“Of course, I wasn’t saying... anything. Just thank you,” you slowly unwrap the bagel. 

He takes out his own and sits in the armchair. You peel back the paper and take a quarter of the bagel. You bite into it, careful not to get any crumbs on the desk. 

It might not be the best day, very close to the worst, but you can’t complain for a free meal. 

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Lucifer x Reader - Use Your Words (NSFW)

As a surprise for Lucifer's birthday (or day of creation), you decided you wanted to make it a special night

You had bought a new set of lingerie just for him along with covering every square inch of your shared bedroom in rose petals and candles

It's cliche, sure, but you knew Lucifer was a big romantic, so this was right up his alley!

Although, you did have a trick up your sleeve~

Lucifer walked into your room after you had messaged him to meet you there

His eyes went bug-eyed when he saw what you were wearing and immediately went to kiss you, but you stopped him, resting your hands on his shoulders

"It's your birthday, Luci, so you can have anything you want tonight. But you have to be specific, do you understand?~"

Lucifer shook his head vehemently

"So, what do you want?~"

"I-I...I want to kiss you..."

You smiled at him and leaned in, pressing your soft lips against his; you loved it when you could feel his smile when he kissed you

He brought you down to the bed gently and began to trail his hands down the sides of your body before stopping at the curve of your hips

"I want to taste you, love...please..."

"You have to do better than that, birthday boy.~"

Lucifer swallowed hard; you knew how easily flustered he could get when it came to being direct in the bedroom, but getting him to blush was your favorite activity

"C'mon hon, use your words.~"

"Fuck, you're going to be the death of me...I want to eat you out...I-I want to taste your pussy..."

"That's a good boy.~"

Without hesitation, you spread your legs open for him; your cunt already wet from the anticipation

Lucifer waisted no time diving between your thighs to lick up every last drop you had to offer

You placed your hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to go as deep as he possibly could

It didn't take long for you to cum on his tongue; he knew exactly what made you tick and you loved that about him

He lifted his face up, giving you an adoring smile with your slick hanging from his chin

You smiled back, but instead of kissing him, you threw him back against the mattress and hovered over him

"What else do you want, my king?~" you asked teasingly as you rocked your hips against his obvious hard on

"F-Fuck...need you...need you to touch me..."

"Touch you where, Luci?~"

All of the blood in his face rushed to his cheeks as they turned a bright yellow. "Damn it...my cock...Please touch my cock...stroke it...darling, I'm begging..."

"You're doing so well," you praised him as you began to undo his belt, tossing away his pants in an instant

You grabbed a hold of his aching cock and began to run your hand up and down his shaft, admiring his leaking tip

You watched as Lucifer writhed under your touch; you knew it wasn't enough but that was the point; you were only doing as he asked.

"Sweetheart...I-I need more, I can't..."

"Tell me. Whatever you want is yours.~"

"Your mouth...use your mouth, p-please! Please suck my cock!"

His desperate begging went straight back to your core; you loved hearing the way he needed you

You rewarded him by lowering your lips down onto the head of his cock, licking away the precum that had formed

You gave him no time to react before you took on more and more of him down your throat before he was screaming in pleasure

You adored his taste, but even more so, you adored him, and you wanted to give him everything he deserved

And right now, what he deserved was to cum down your throat~

You felt his tail wrap around your thigh, signaling to you that he was close to finishing

You responded by picking up your pace, your mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him to his climax

After a few more pumps, Lucifer cried out your name as he came, his warm seed spilling onto your tongue

You swallowed him happily, making sure to lick him clean

But then, something in Lucifer snapped

His eyes flashed a crimson red, and his horns had burst from his temple

But he wasn't angry, far from it

He needed to devour you

Shame had been replace with pride as you found yourself pinned to the mattress, having no time to wonder how you got there

"Angel, it's my birthday, is it not?~" You nodded, your face getting hotter and hotter by the second. "If this is what you want, then I'm going to tell you EXACTLY what I want now."

You gulped, feeling your cunt ache with anticipation for what your lover had planned

"I want you to get on all fours for me, my love.~"

You did as he said wordlessly, turning away from him and facing the headboard

You felt the tip of his cock press up against your entrance; you couldn't hold back the whine that escaped your mouth

"Good girl.~ Now, I want to fuck you until morning, and I want you to scream my name as I make you cum over and over and over again. Can you do that for me?~"

"M-Mhmm"

"Come on, sweetie, use your words.~"

"Y-Yes, Lucifer..."

"Such a good girl for me.~" he murmured as he plunged his cock deep inside you

True to your word, you gave Lucifer exactly what he wanted, and he fucked you until the bright red sky began to shine through your window.

[skultyun]

Soo.. soobin admitted he likes praise more than degrading, he's crazy like actually. Can't stop thinking about overstimming him and easing him through it by showering him with praise.. am I crazy or is it just me?? 🤭🤭

cw: overstimulation, handjobs, blowjob? (Lasted for like 20 secs), tiny praise kink, sub!bfsoobin x dom!reader

"You can take one more right?" You coaxed, even though he's exhausted after the countless climaxes you've put him through this night (he just can't say no to you <3) He's shaking his head frantically, hips moving to meet your hand despite his protests. "n-no.. can't.. no more please.." he cries, but you pump his cum covered cock even faster, dragging a whine out of him. There are dried streaks of cum all over his belly, a new batch was gonna come soon if you didn't give him the break he needed. "Pleasee? Just a little more I know you can take it." You plead while your poor boyfriend struggles to even keep his sanity intact, you've been teasing him for a while even since you woke him up in the middle of the night desperate to stroke his cock (to which he complied without no clue of the things you had in mind.) "baby..!- ah- y-y'know I get really sensitive.." It's clear he's gonna break anytime sooner, and if you just kept distracted him a little longer he would have come have no other choice. You rub your thumb right over his slit, already leaking of pre-cum and his body jerks in response, you know that's his weak spot. "Ugh- love..!" He's so cute you can't even help yourself anymore, bringing your face level to his tip and the way his eyes widened in panic tells that he knows what's about to happen.

"Take it for me, please? You're a good boy I know you can do it." Wow, "good boy". That's most likely soobins magic word, cause in the blink of an eye he's immediately giving in to your request, not even caring about how drained he was anymore, your words swoon him and make him so weak he almost came. "Haahh.. oh I can't- you know what you're doing to me." Soobin huffs, he can see through your tricks but it's as if he walks into them blindly without a single care. But you don't hear a complaint, and that is considered an affirmative response. So you engulf all of him in a quick go and surround him with your warmth. That's enough to make him come undone, not even warning you before he's cumming for the sixth time that night, this time down your throat. You took him deeper inside as he came, making sure to get every drop and not let it go to waste. Soobins trembling and shaking, bathed in sweat, tears and his own cum, you pull away from him before resting on his side.

His mind is totally blank, you cup his face and kiss his the tip of his nose. "You did great love." He smiles lazily at you, basking in your praise. "I did..?" You nod in return with a satisfied smile, he's fucked out and drained but is so happy he pleased you. Burying his face his your neck as you play with his hair and shower the sweet boy with all the love he deserves <3

you may have just destroyed your boyfriend, but atleast it was fun!

(SORRY THIS WAS RUSHED..)

[mrs-hatake]

How JJK Men Hold Your Chin

Warnings: MDI!!! yandere behavior, obsessiveness, manipulation, dacryphilia, over protectiveness, human sacrifice, mentioned assassination, foul language, female reader, HUMAN!sukuna

A/N: i kinda went overboard with sukuna lmao. credits are in the pics! also, shoutout to my soulmate who encouraged me to write and publish this luv u 🥹

Toji:

Toji’s eyes shoot open when the soft rattle of the window opening fills the bedroom. Whoever decided to ambush Toji, in own home no less, is doing a piss poor job at it. The number rule of breaking and entering is that you need to be as quiet as the dead…Or make sure you aren’t breaking into a room where the occupants of the house are in. 

He doesn’t move, makes sure to keep his breathing deep and even as his ears focus on the soft thud across from his bed. The gentle rustle of feet on carpet is thundering. It makes Toji wonder which sorry idiot decided to attack him. He lies still. Waiting.

Toji senses a presence behind his back. The stare of the invader doesn’t feel oppressive but more hesitant. Big mistake. Waiting a heartbeat before striking, Toji quickly has the criminal pinned under him on the bed. A terrified screech stabs sharply in his ears, ringing like an alarm clock.

Leaning over, Toji harshly tugs on the string of the desk lamp on the nightstand. Dim yellow light floods the corner of the room where Toji’s bed is placed. 

With the darkness gone, Toji’s eyebrow quirks at the sight below him. A pair of eyes stare at him in a vacuous stupor, their lips formed into a silent ‘o’ shape. 

Toji blinks down at the frightened woman. 

She blinks back. 

Whoever sent her his way is a freaking dumbass. Aside from the fear drowning in her eyes, incompetence screamed at him. How did his enemies expect to dispose of him with someone as weak as her?

Lost in his thought, the woman raises her leg and tries to kick Toji off of her. Luckily, Toji’s reflexes are as sharp as a cat's and dodges the attack. He yanks her leg down before pressing all of his weight on it, trapping her.

“Don’t kill me.” The woman pleads and it forces Toji’s head to tilt to the side in confusion.

“You’re here to kill me.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing, “It’s only fair I defend myself.”

His words strike a nerve. The woman begins to frantically shake her head, jostling Toji with her movement. “Please.” She whispers repeatedly like a broken record. 

Having had enough, and with the exhaustion from today’s mission catching up to him, Toji’s large and calloused hand grabs the woman’s chin, successfully suspending her thrashes. 

The tip of his thumb is brushing the edge of the woman’s chapped lip. The two, caught in a daze, are silent. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you?” Toji’s voice drops to a murmur, his already deep voice growing deeper.

The woman continues to stare at him but there’s something calculative in her eyes, as if she’s determined the best course of action. Whatever she finds, melts the tension from her. Her form relaxes under Toji but he still maintains his weight on her. It could be a trap after all. Waiting for him to drop his guard down before she strikes. Toji has been in the business for so long that such a childish trick is insulting.

“I’ll tell you who hired me.” The woman's breath comes out shaken, broken.

Toji contemplates her answer before shaking his head, “Not enough.” 

His response doesn’t deter the woman. In fact, it strengthened her resolve.  “Not just the organization I work with but several of them. It’s like a betting ring.” She explains, her eyes hard, unafraid to meet him. 

Toji thinks. People wanting him dead isn’t something new but that doesn’t mean he has the free time to hunt down every single one of them. However, what the woman says next sends a chill down his spine.

“They’re coming after your son.”

Her statement is a bullet shot straight to his heart. If what this woman is saying is true, then he needs to take her word for it.

“If you’re lying,” Toji’s grip on the woman’s chin is unforgivable, “I will kill you and your pathetic family.” he spits before letting go. 

Satoru:

The woman is panting harshly as she leans against the metal pillar at the underground train station. The ruckus of the coming and goings of the people blend into the background until it’s nothing but a gentle hum. She swallows her dried throat, thick and heavy, gathering whatever moisture to nourish the muscle. The woman’s back presses against the pillar as her eyes close shut. Greedily, she sucks air into her lungs. 

Weakly, her eye opens and it darts frantically across the station until it lands on the departure board. The orange LED lights glaring harshly at her. Still, the woman squints as she reads the list and the corresponding time. Her train leaves in less than half an hour. She’s exhausted. Her legs are screaming at her from her earlier run and throat is begging for water. But the woman pushes through.

With one final deep inhale, the woman pushes herself and makes her way to the platform where her train will arrive in ten minutes. 

The woman hasn’t taken a single step forward when a voice wells up a wave of acid deep from within her belly. 

“Found you.”  A voice she once associated with reverence has her recoiling in horror.

Inchmeal, the woman turned.

Gojo Satoru is standing in front of her. Despite the gentle smile on his lips, Satoru’s blue eyes are as wild as a stormy sea, raging and fervent.

A blink and Satoru’s hand is cupping the woman’s cheek in a tight embrace. She winces at the pain, reaches her hand to wrap around Satoru’s wrist and tugs it away to no avail. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Satoru sighs as if she is some naughty child, “It’s cute that you think you can run away from me.” 

The woman’s eyes pleads Satoru, begs him to let her go, set her free, but Satoru is blind. 

With a powerful pull, Satoru yanks the woman into an embrace. His muscled arms trapped her in an unbreakable cage. 

“Let’s go home.” Instead of Satoru’s whisper resembling a kitten’s soothing licks, it feels like a spider crawling up her throat.

Nanami:

Warm hues of orange and pink spreading across the sky is the last thing the woman sees before her eyes shut close. She doesn’t scream as she falls to her death. Her descent is calm, freeing in a morbid sense. Though the curse is still rampaging the abandoned hospital, terrorizing the second year students, the woman accepts her demise with a serene smile. 

The impact she has been embracing for doesn’t come to her. Well, not in the way she had imagined numerous times whenever the woman is sent off on a mission. Instead, a firm but pliable object breaks her fall. 

Cinnamon and black coffee invades her senses. A roaring heartbeat echoes in her ears but before the woman can open her eyes, she is gently put on her feet.

“How can you be so careless?” A voice growling in her direction forces the woman’s eyes to open.

Blinking the black spots from her vision, the woman lifts her gaze from the ground to where Nanami Kento is standing just a few feet away from her. His muscles are stiff and his lips are pressed together in anger.

Oh shit.

“What were you thinking?” Kento continues, uncaring of how his voice is increasing in volume but the woman is shell shocked. Not from the fall but from the fact that, in the years she has known Nanami Kento, is losing his cool.

“I’m fine.” The woman sighs in exhaustion as her hands dusts her outfit free of dirt. She notices in her peripheral vision the second year students delivering the final blow to the curse spirit, their cheer turning into horrified groans when the curse exploded into tiny little pieces and it covered them with neon green goo. “I had it under control.”

Kento rolls his eyes, “Like hell you were.”

Worn out and oddly hungry, the woman turns away from her livid colleague. “I don’t have time for this.” she mutters.

“We’re not done talking.” Kento calls after her but the woman doesn’t meet his dark eyes, raging with an uncontrollable fire.

Just as the woman is turning to leave, Kento’s massive hand cups her chin and forcefully pulls her to face him.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Kento seethes through clenched teeth. His thumb on the apple of her left cheek presses deeply into the supple skin, almost bruising.

The woman’s jaw clenches, the muscles flexing underneath Kento’s fingers on her right cheek. Her piercing gaze is unyielding but Nanami Kento doesn’t back down.

“Don’t you dare do that again.” Though Kento’s tone is cold and disapproving, the woman hears the concern loud and clear. 

“Answer me.” He barks with the authority of a man who should not be challenged. 

“I won’t.” The woman responds in a strained voice. 

Geto:

The woman’s eyes are large and rimmed with tears as she meets irises colored in vibrant amethyst.

The man returns her gaze with feigned kindness and condescending pity. His hands cupping her cheeks are warm and they light a fire in her belly. His thumbs are slightly rough with callouses but they are gentle as they wipe away stray tears. Soft lips kiss the woman’s forehead, their velvety touch is soothing, imbued with a delicate tenderness that has the woman melting like putty in his arms. 

“Now, be a good little girl and do as you’re told.” Geto Suguru’s voice is rich with sweetness and has a velvety timbre, resembling a bitter drink with traces of sugar. It has a propitiating quality to it that embraces the woman in a sense of tranquility.

“Suguru.” The woman hiccups, vision blurred with unshed tears. 

Suguru coos, the sound echoing that of a mother worrying over her child after waking up from a nightmare. He leans in, slowly and tenderly as if to not frighten her off, and licks each tear trail from each cheek.

“Suguru?” The woman sputters, her eyebrows furrowing in bewilderment as she tries to process what just happened. 

Though the soft smile Suguru gives her radiates warmth, there’s a subtle glimmer in his eyes that hints at something the woman can’t recognize but it fills her with dread. 

“There, there.” Suguru whispers gently, his hands still cupping her cheeks. His fingers are wet with tears but the fact doesn’t bother him.

“This will all be over soon.”

Sukuna:

Sukuna’s hibernation is interrupted by cacophonous ceremonial chants reverberating from the forest below.

Year after year, Sukuna has reprimanded the villagers for their never ending harassment. They mistake his cursed lineage as an entity to protect his village when, in reality, the Ryomen clan was cursed by the Gojo clan three hundred years ago for violating the peace treaty because one member from the branch family decided to be a cocky little shit and terrorize humans and now Sukuna has to suffer the consequences. 

Every first day of spring, the villagers leave animal caracases at the mouth of his cave to satiate his hunger. When that didn’t work, the villagers sent wooden crates filled to the brim with glimmering gold coins and a crown decorated in sparkling diamonds to persuade Sukuna in blessing their harvest. Stupid villagers and their stupid myths. If they had bothered to open a history book, they would have discovered that Ryomen Sukuna is just as human as any of them. The only difference is that part of the Gojo clan’s punishment was to inject every member of the Ryomen clan with poison into their bloodstream that altered their genetic composition. Instead of having two arms and two eyes like everyone else, the Ryomens now have four arms and four eyes. Oh, and an additional mouth on their belly.

A satisfied moan falls from his mouths when his muscles pop as he stretches his four arms high into heaven. Scratching his side with one of his hands, Sukuna trudges to the mouth of the caves and watches with complete boredom as those fools travel the winding path leading to his habitat. Glancing at the sun, Sukuna figures it’ll take them another hour before they arrive. 

When the villagers do arrive, they wordlessly leave their sacrifice at the cave entrance and leave, just as silent and unnerving. 

With nothing better to do, Sukuna humors the villagers and steps out of his stifling home.

Despite it being early spring, the weather is still warm but the air has a certain bite to it. Not enough to warrant thicker garment but enough to appreciate the cool breeze caressing Sukuna’s skin.

Stepping outside, Sukuna comes to a sudden halt. His four eyes blink before they glance around the forest, searching for a glimpse of the villagers who will explain what this year’s present is. 

Below him, just a few meters away from his feet, is a woman lying on her side. She is dressed in all white and her hair is fixed in a complicated updo. Gems dangle with each blow from the wind and Sukuna’s nose picks up the hints of honey and vanilla.

Sukuna’s thick fingers massage the spot between his eyes while his two arms cross in front of his stomach, pressing against his mouth.

Great, just great. Those idiots brought him a human sacrifice this year for whatever fucked up reason. Sighing, long and heavily, he picks up the unconscious woman and carries her into his cave.

It’s around nightfall when Sukuna hears soft groans coming from his bed. His upper right arm is stroking the fire to life while his lower right arm throws wood into the fire pit. His stomach has been growling for the past hour and his tongue keeps licking the curve of his belly button. If Sukuna will ever have the chance to fight the infamous Gojo Satoru, he wants to inject him with the same poison just so he can understand the hell Sukuna’s been through. 

“You’re awake.” Sukuna’s voice cuts into the night air, deep and smooth. 

The woman freezes on the bed and takes a moment to gather her thoughts before pushing herself into a sitting position. 

When the woman turns to face him, Sukuna’s two pairs of red eyes roam over the woman’s face that’s painted with soft makeup to enhance her beauty. 

“Greetings, Sukuna-sama.” The woman greets him in a luscious voice, no doubt a skill taught to her by the elderly women of the village. Sukuna resists rolling his eyes at their stupidity. Instead, he tosses the iron rod aside and saunters to his bed. 

Though the woman bows her head in submission, her form lowered in a beautiful arch, Sukuna can see her trembling in her place. After all, Sukuna cuts an intimidating figure. Not just with his additional limbs and eyes but also with his height; totaling at two hundred centimeters. It's a small wonder she is frightened. 

An index finger that is as long and slender as the iron rod hooks under the woman’s chin and tilts it upward to face him. 

A soft hum emits from Sukuna, “The villagers have outdone themselves with this year’s sacrifice," his finger glides down her neck, "heh, they must be desperate to please me.”

The woman says nothing. Her eyes are lidded and they are clouded in something that Sukuna cannot discern but they add to her charm. Flames flicker to life in Sukuna, sparking intense desire that burns through him like wildfire.

“I’ll take good care of you.” Sukuna vows, his voice lowering into a hummed whisper, each word heavy with yearning and licentiousness.

[kingconia]

VICE HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS BLIND, BUT, SOMEHOW, FEELS AND KNOWS EVERYTHING

warning: Ortho is excluded for an obvious reason, and I consider Ruggie to be a vice.

Trey Clover. ❤️

— Trey is absolutely surprised, when he sees you for the first time. It is not like he had never seen a blind person before, but there is something alarming in a fact, that a student without magic and sight, is left all alone in the NRC;

— He might be a little awkward around you, but he is still respects you, and will never points out at your possible insecurity. Hits Ace a few times, when he openly reminds you about being blind;

— ...When he finds out that you are not helpless, and in fact might be more attentive than all of them, he is speechless.

•

Trey glances over his shoulder, instantly finding you in the havoc that first-years had made in his kitchen. He has no trust in this kids, and it is quite dangerous place for you. So, he tries to look up for you wordlessly.

”Ace,” he calls for a redhead boy, sighing, when he almost drops a bowl with flour on the ground, ”pass me a few apples, would you? They should be somewhere here.”

Ace smiles at him crookedly as he starts walk around, squinting, while trying to find mentioned apples.

”Eh... Where are they?”

Trey turns, planning to guide him himself, when you are suddenly raising your cane, the tip of it moving in the direction of a basket with red apples.

”Ace, I think, they should be here,” you remark softly.

Neither Ace nor Deuce find anything extraordinary in your act, which makes Trey realise that it must be not the first time you do so. But he is astonished!

He examines you once again, and as he stares right in your colourless eyes that almost never blink, Trey is sure: you don't see anything. That it is not a lie.

...Perhaps, you are not without a magic as others think you are?

Ruggie Bucchi. 💛

— Alright, I am sorry, but Ruggie doesn't give a fuck if you are blind. It is not about bullying—he wouldn't do that—but he will not try to pamper with you either;

— And as soon as he realises that you, in fact, are highly aware of everything around you, Ruggie is even more comfortable around you;

— But! Your instincts are reminding him of beastmen—he had seen a few of them, who were just as blind as you, and you act suspiciously a lot like them—and so, he starts having a very strange theories about you.

•

Ruggie holds his breath, and as his back straightens, he is ready for attack.

In his homeland, he is considered to be one of the most dangerous beasts, a natural predator. He knows how to stalk his prey, how to stay out of its sight, and how to bring food back home. So, of course, watching after you, shouldn't be a—

”I know you are hiding on the tree, Ruggie.”

Urgh. Just how you always know where he is?

Here you are, sitting on the bench under this tree. And Ruggie, who stands atop of it, too high to be heard, shouldn't be noticeable even for a usual humans. Even he made a sound—but he didn't!—how could you say that it is him? Unless, you are feeling his scent, just like a beastman would...

Ruggie keeps his silent. Maybe, it would be easier to trick you this way, and then...

”Ouch!”

Almost when he touched your shoulder, you easily hit him with your cane.

”Ruggie,” you sigh. ”I thought, you are better than his.”

Rubbing his hand, he can only murmur a quiet:

”Sorry.”

...His belief that you might be half-beastman are getting more and more rational with each passing day.

Jade Leech. 🩵

— Jade is somewhere between acting all gentlemen around you, and searching for a way to use your disability in his advantage. Nothing personal, though;

— When he realises that his calculations are completely wrong, and you are not so easy to crack, Jade is impressed. What a good challenge you are;

— Jade might get an idea that, perhaps, you are lying to everyone... And if so, he is about to catch you on this lie.

•

”Remind me, please... Had you been sightless from the very young age?” Jade asks casually, pouring tea in your cap; for a third time in this morning.

You nod with a gratitude, and your hand easily moves to your right, where the pot with sugar is located. Jade told you where it is, when you first started having a breakfast together.

”I had been born this way, yes.”

As you put one cube in your tea, Jade hastily moves the pot to an opposite side of the table. Waiting. His eyes pierces in yours, trying to notice some strange signs. Anything.

”How complicated it must be.”

There is always a possibility that you just have those colourless eyes, which helps you to lie to other. Perhaps, you are as mischievous as he is, after all.

”Well. I think, it would be harder if I lost my sight earlier in life,” you smile.

Your hand flawlessly moves to the new location of the sugar. Jade hums in the disappointment.

...Once you will crack.

Jamil Viper. 🧡

— When he hears about you for the first time, he can't help but huff about how irresponsible headmaster is, if he allows you to walk around these dangers so easily;

— Much later, he becomes your close friend, and with that, he finds out about your talent. Jamil had never seen such things before, he thinks you are a miracle;

— But he will accept it without any side thoughts. He trusts you, and overall, Jamil is simply glad that you are not as enamoured in this world as he first thought you are.

•

Jamil knows you are coming from a ringing knock of your cane in the corridor. And, so, he rushes to the doors, opening it widely, still with apron around his waist.

”Good afternoon, Y/n.”

”Hello, Jamil,” you hum, slowly stepping in.

It is a secret for Jamil why some of his classmates are thinking that you are lying about your blindness—or use a secret magic for moving around—when a little evidences of it are always here.

He can say it from the way you never make sharp on inaccurate movements—he had only seen you running with Grim on your hands—and move slowly, though, gracefully. Or how you relay a lot on you cane.

”I had prepared a few pastries for you,” he exclaims quietly. ”From the Scalding Sands.”

You might be independent, but Jamil still thinks you struggling sometimes.

”I can smell that,” you smile. ”Thank you.”

But it is not a problem. He will make sure to help you from time to time.

Rook Hunt. 💜

— Oh! Oh! Rook can't hide his curiousity when he hears stories about you;

— As someone, who relays a lot on his senses and instincts, Rook fully understands what helps you through your blindness;

— So, if anything, he thinks you are a lot alike! Rook constantly helps you to develop and sharpen your senses by taking you on walks around the forest, or asking about what you feel in certain rooms.

•

”Incroyable!” Rook sighs out delightfully, eyes sparkling as he stares at you. ”You are such a talented person, ma flèche!”

Another little laugh escapes your lips, and Rook can't help but feel proud of how happy you are about these dates of yours.

He wants you to feel equal with others, but even more, he desires for you to know how much better you are, than the most.

”Ah, you are flattering me, Rook,” with a free from a cane hand, you rush to wave him off. Then, you frown suddenly, tilting your head on the right. ”Ah... I think there is another bird, Rook. Behind you, on the left.”

As soon as you warn him about it, Rook swiftly turns on the told direction. A mere second and arrow flies past you, hitting a target easily.

”Parfait!” He praises you again. ”You notice things even quicker than I do!”

As your cheeks blush furiously, Rook only smirks.

If you only know how special you are!

Lilia Vanrouge. 💚

— Lilia is a war veteran, so, he is not surprised by your abilities. He had seen a lot of his old comrades losing their sight in the battle, and slowly learning to live with consequences of that;

— But, he finds it impressing either way. Especially, considering that you are just a mortal. It is fascinating how strong and brave your kind can be;

— And, Lilia loves how you are always aware of his presence, never being scared of his sudden appearances, like others usually do. It is rewarding!

•

”Ah, aren't we going to be late?” Cater sighs, shifting from one leg to another, while scrolling through the Magicam. ”That's ridiculous.”

You hum, pressing your shoulder to the wall, yawning.

”Why are we even waiting?”

”What do you mean why?” Cater frowns. ”We can't go without Lilia... And I don't know where he is, but dude is really late.”

It is your turn to frown now.

”Cater, Lilia had been here for another five minutes,” you say. ”Just look up.”

Cater is suspicious at first, but then, as he does what you told him to do, a terrified help escapes his chest. Lilia is, indeed, here. Hanging from the ceiling, smiling cryptidly.

”Hello, love,” he flashes a smile at you. ”And hello there, Cater.”

”Hi, dear,” you wave at him. ”Well... Can we, please, go now?”

Cater sighs. His face is still pale, when he hisses out:

”You both of you are awful. Period.”

Lilia only chuckles at that. Well, aren't you just a perfect match?