#so there's no longer a need for double spacing.

[coffee-and-geto]

THE SPACE YOU LEFT BEHIND

“Will you stay with me?” It’s like a wish waiting to be granted. “Forever.”

pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer! reader

summary: indeed, after suguru has defected, you’ve been trying to heal yourself and to not loose your mind. but healing ourselves is always harder than helping others, isn’t it? but don’t forget the goal of a sorcerer: protect humans at the risk of your life. and sometimes, death is closer that we think it is.

warnings: heavy angst, injuries, mention of death, blood, depression, eating disorder, pinning, mention of vomit, mention of cigarettes, mei mei, nanami & shoko make and appearance, mention of yaga & suguru, the lion king movie mentionned, jujutsu sorcerers’ life sucks, the story takes shape after suguru's defection, bittersweet/happy ending.

wc: 5,039

When you committed to the world of exorcism after middle school, you hadn’t realized just how much you had underestimated the darker sides of this life, where exorcists dedicate their lives to protecting humans — the primary source of the curses’ existence.

Suguru was right, wasn’t he?

It’s because of them that your classmates died. It’s also their fault that your best friend deserted school after massacring an entire village during a mission.

That put an end to all the memories you cherished so dearly, kept, and illustrated in a diary.

Sunny afternoons after class, eating ice cream with your friends Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. The setting sun signaling the end of a fulfilling day, leading into sleepless nights of sleepovers, where Satoru brought piles of sweets ready to infest your mouths with cavities as Suguru told scary stories about his hometown.

Or shopping days with Shoko, dragging the two boys along to test makeup products on them — the ones you’d never buy considering their outrageous prices.

Or those dangerous missions where you hunted curses, tracking them down to uphold your values: protecting the weak to maintain order and peace.

Such a beautiful motto, isn’t it?

A motto meant to help you, guide you, and support you so you wouldn’t lose sight of your goals.

So why did it fail so much that your once-beloved diary now sits open on your desk, collecting dust since the last time you opened it — not to add a new memory, but rather to look at the last ones you wrote.

Suguru’s departure left a void far more significant and meaningful than you had expected, didn’t it?

Life feels duller. The sky no longer seems as sunny — replaced by a grayish one, heavy with dark clouds threatening storms that mirror your emotions. If you had no tears left to cry, the rain would suffice to push you into your room after classes and missions, both as exhausting as your mind, consumed by draining thoughts.

The silence left by Suguru’s absence is far louder than all the times you screamed into his voicemail after he stopped responding to you. Of course, eventually, you gave up. Not out of choice.

Simply because he had blocked you.

And when changing SIM cards proved futile, you quickly realized through the automatic response that the number you sought was no longer in service.

It felt like all your regrets had come crashing down at once. But in truth, they had only arrived right on time.

If you had helped Suguru the way he needed, he wouldn’t have left. 

He wouldn’t have been condemned.

You wouldn’t have stopped eating, stopped living your life the way you were told you should, or started losing your friends one by one.

Suguru was the first.

Shoko isn’t the second. The brunette seems to hold up much better — although the number of cigarettes she smokes daily has doubled — she doesn’t withdraw into herself the way you do. So, you’re sure you won’t lose her... right?

And as for Satoru… Will he be the next to leave, one way or another?

Or will it be you?

Either way, you’re losing yourselves. It’s been a while since you stopped keeping track of how long it’s been since you last saw Satoru after Suguru’s departure.

Mr. Yaga confirmed that he hadn’t assigned him a single mission — the situation critical, delicate, and as fragile as a flower filled with poison that could make The Strongest falter at the slightest misstep or careless move.

He could very well be dead, and no one would know.

“So… you haven’t heard from him either?” Nanami murmurs, his deep, low voice almost swallowed by the muddy ground and heavy rain that poured as much as your overwhelmed mind.

You shake your head. “Not a single sign of life,” you mumble with the tip of your lips.

The two of you are on your way back to the school after a long mission assigned by your teacher, Yaga. It took you the entire day, but at least your mind feels lighter, despite the constant fatigue weighing on your shoulders like the weight of the world.

As the rain falls harder on you both, Nanami takes the initiative to open his black umbrella, holding it over your head as you stare at your mud-stained shoes.

“Almost three weeks.”

Your friend’s voice sounds distant, like hearing someone underwater.

Your head jerks up. “Hmm?”

“He hasn’t been out in almost three weeks,” Nanami repeats, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The crunching of your shoes and his on the gravel fills the silence before he continues. “Yaga gave him some time, but it’s getting harder to assign missions to others who are on Satoru’s level, you know.”

You don’t react to his words. Of course, he’s right.

Just as he’s wrong.

While Satoru’s behavior of shutting himself away without contact for so long isn’t responsible, his reasons remain entirely valid.

He just lost someone dear to him.

So, can you blame him?

But perhaps it’s time to bring your friend back, even if it means risking losing him — and yourself — in the process.

~~~~

You knock three times on Satoru’s dorm door.

A dead silence answers you.

You try again.

The same response.

So, you try the handle, testing whether it’s locked. However, it gives way under your hand, and a moment later, you step through the doorway into an unrecognizable environment.

Indeed, your best friend’s room — usually adorned with decorations and elements that so vividly reflected Satoru’s lively personality — is now unrecognizable. The windows, typically allowing sunlight to flood in and brighten the room, now shroud it in an ominous darkness. On the floor, clothes, likely dirty, are scattered at your feet. Satoru’s desk is covered in a visible layer of dust despite the dim light. And finally, on the bed you’ve always known, rests a long shape wrapped in thick blankets.

With his back turned to you, Satoru seems to be asleep from where you stand, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Even when you call his name, he doesn’t show any sign of awareness.

So, you close the door and kneel by the side of his bed.

“Satoru?” you murmur, placing a gentle hand on a shoulder covered by your friend’s indigo comforter.

The slight shiver running through him proves he’s very much awake.

But was his mind equally present?

“Satoru, were you sleeping?” you ask, shaking him carefully.

He doesn’t respond, not even with a gesture.

Your throat tightens in the face of a situation you’ve never had to face with him before.

How do you help someone who’s in the same situation as you?

In fact, it’s even worse.

Satoru is Suguru’s other half. Their symbiotic relationship always stopped you from seeing further with Satoru, leaving you questioning what he truly felt for Suguru. Because deep down, you knew you didn’t stand a chance. You’d never hold a place as important as Suguru’s in Satoru’s heart.

So, you chose to fill the void in your heart with love for him. It’s far from enough, but you’d rather not dwell on it. Unrequited love always ends this way, doesn’t it?

You straighten up just enough to lie down on the small remaining space on Satoru’s bed, carefully rubbing your friend’s arm to avoid startling him while offering the overflow of affection that aches to be reciprocated but, for now, can only warm the albino.

You don’t dare complain about the stale smell in the room, prioritizing Satoru’s comfort above all else. You drape your arm around him as he breathes in and out with a shaky rhythm, ignoring the cold of the room that freezes you just as much as the rain from earlier did.

Perhaps half an hour passes. 

Maybe an hour. 

Or more. 

Or even just ten minutes.

The oppressive silence of the room quickly catches up to the sleep deprivation you so desperately need to cure. The cold vanishes. In the end, it doesn’t matter, right?

The only thing that matters is having Satoru in your arms, no matter what, his back pressed securely against you as your breaths synchronize, and your heartbeats merge in a way you’ve always dreamed of.

But when you flutter your eyes open, the absence of cold is quickly replaced by body warmth. Satoru’s thick comforter is draped over you, and his body is pressed against yours.

But what strikes you most is that he’s no longer facing away.

Satoru, his eyelids closed, breathes softly and slowly, the shadow of haunted dark circles staining his angelic face.

You’re about to sit up when Satoru, still without opening his eyes, slides a hand over your arm.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles.

And his raspy voice nearly gives you a heart attack.

There’s only one way for someone to have that effect.

And more than anything, the slight swelling and redness of Satoru’s pale eyelids confirm your suspicions.

Resting your head back onto the pillow, your forehead lightly brushes against Satoru’s.

“Can you look at me?” Your lips move in a near-inaudible whisper.

Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Satoru,” you insist, maintaining the same melancholic gentleness.

So you take the initiative to slowly raise your hands, bringing them toward his soft face to gently lift his eyelids. But what you see causes a crack in your heart, one akin to the shattering of ice under the raw heat of fire.

A small, wet pearl escapes from one of his eyes, deliberately rolling down his cheek, crossing his nose, and vanishing at the corner of his mouth.

Without a word, Satoru opens his eyes, and the embodiment of pain meets your distressed gaze.

His cerulean irises, usually alive with mischief, are as dark as an abyssal chasm. It’s as though a curse itself has taken hold of his gaze, condemning anyone who dares to meet his bloodshot eyes.

Your eyebrows slowly knit together, and with your heart already shattered, you decide to wrap your arms around him, pulling an unrecognizable Satoru against you as his chest releases a trembling breath and your neck grows damp from the occasional drops of warmth falling from his face.

“I’m here,” you mutter in his ear. “I’m here no matter what.”

Your eyelids close slowly, letting the tears you’d held back finally roll down your own cheeks.

Once again, perhaps ten minutes, half an hour, or even the entire afternoon passes before you finally decide to sit up, gently pulling an exhausted Satoru into your arms.

And to your surprise, he allows it.

You help him stand, supporting him with an arm around his body despite the height difference, and guide him to the bathroom. The decision had been made a while ago, even if your consciousness hadn’t fully caught up. After all, you would have wanted someone to do the same for you.

But aren’t we always better at caring for others than for ourselves?

Without protest — even though the idea of seeing Satoru naked might have made you blush last month — immersing him in the warm bath you’ve carefully prepared doesn’t feel as awkward as you’d expected. You’ve never seen him without at least his boxers, so out of respect, you avert your eyes as the poor boy settles into the hot water.

You grab a bottle of shampoo lying around in Satoru’s bathroom, squeezing out a small amount to wash his angelic hair. Despite having likely neglected his hygiene as much as you have lately, your friend is in desperate need of someone to care for him.

Satoru, his eyes still closed, seems almost asleep under your slow, gentle, and careful movements.

It looks like you’re washing a real dead man.

But perhaps part of him has been dead ever since Suguru left? Perhaps a piece of him vanished the moment Suguru was gone?

The faint hum vibrating from Satoru’s lips reassures you that he’s still conscious. You take it as a good sign that he’s relaxing. Your nails softly scratch his scalp, and he lets out a low groan of satisfaction. The foam grows thicker as you continue to massage Satoru’s head.

You rinse the shampoo from his hair with warm water, droplets trickling down his perfect face.

One of those droplets slides just below his eye, so imperceptibly that you wonder if you’d have noticed it at all if you weren’t gazing at his face with almost religious reverence.

Using a washcloth, you pick up Satoru’s body wash this time, lathering it across his skin, applying slightly more pressure to tense areas in need of a soothing massage. Soft sighs escape his nose, signaling that you can continue without bothering him.

After several massages where you pay special attention to certain spots, you fetch a robe, wrapping it around Satoru’s now-clean body. He’s like new, more ready now to hold onto a semblance of consciousness.

But one thing that strikes you is that Satoru, despite being entirely naked and in such a vulnerable state of weakness, allowed you to care for him without opening his eyes even once.

With a faint, gentle smile, you guide Satoru back to his room, grabbing some clean, comfortable clothes for him while he collapses onto his bed under the weight of the world on his shoulders. You help him into each piece of clothing, his body too weak to move as usual, almost lifeless. Then, you lead him to your room, crossing the school’s corridors so he can rest in the clean and organized space you’ve managed to create after pulling yourself together following your own depressive episode of endless, self-destructive days.

Your room is a true haven — tidy, clean, and orderly.

And so your freshly made bed with its crisp sheets seems to call to Satoru. The softness of the mattress cradles him as you drape your immaculate comforter over him.

Like laying a deceased loved one to rest in their coffin, Satoru keeps his eyes closed, his face void of expression, yet with a weariness that seems to have lifted ever so slightly.

~~~~

“How long?”

“I already told you.”

“Liar.”

Satoru pushes the food tray toward you, the arm of the mechanical table brushing against your torso. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

You sigh, the exhaustion of the past few days weighing on you like a heavy, unpleasant rain.

“First of all, you just got back from a mission where you were inches from dying if Shoko hadn’t been there. Second, you refuse to tell me how long it’s been since you’ve eaten — unless it’s been a month — and now you’re saying you’re not hungry?”

Satoru, lying under the pristine white sheets of his infirmary bed, simply turns his head away. It’s as if he’s acting like a machine. 

Mechanical movements, curt responses, and barely any signs of life.

During one of the recent missions assigned to him by Principal Yaga after weeks of absence, Satoru resumed his routine. He sleeps, does his missions, and returns to sleep in his room. Ever since you took the time to clean and organize his room, you haven’t exchanged more than a sentence. The only memory that still haunts you is the blood-red hue of Satoru’s eyes that night in his room.

The void left by Suguru has wreaked havoc.

And while you’ve managed to patch yourself up — or so you think — you’re now trying to help your friend in need. But how do you help someone who refuses to speak?

“And ‘I don’t know’ isn’t an answer,” you add in the face of his silence, rubbing your face, which feels warmer than usual. Perhaps it’s the heat of the room? December is a month where illness comes quickly. But it’s nothing, you reassure yourself.

“You’re flushed.”

“I know.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

Both of you avert your gaze, equally annoyed and concerned with one another.

“When was the last time you even slept? You spend more time watching over my sleep and my meals than looking at yourself in a mirror. You look like a Halloween costume.”

Ouch.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror near the nurse’s desk, and despite Satoru’s harsh words, your state seems even worse than his.

You’ve lost weight lately. The dark hollows under your eyes mirror your grueling schedule, where you spend most of your day juggling missions, watching over Satoru, and helping the school with any task.

Like an escape, you’ve found any excuse to avoid being alone. Especially with yourself.

But isn’t that exactly what Suguru did? The poor guy had no one to talk to, and the one time he tried, you thought he was just exhausted from swallowing curses. That was when he broke down and sobbed in front of you.

The memory alone stings your eyes. And unfortunately for you, you’re not in any shape to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You stand abruptly, turning your head away to avoid showing the cracks in your courageous facade to your best friend.

“Eat. I have a mission in half an hour. I’ll be back tonight.”

As you slip out of the infirmary, Satoru painfully sit up in his bed, opening his mouth to call after you, to say something. Anything. His words were harsh and cruel, while you’ve been patient with him, caring for him more than for yourself.

But he hates it.

Because you only remind him of what Suguru used to do. When he felt terrible, Suguru helped him despite his own pain, despite wanting to vomit up the curses he’d consumed or even die. Suguru cared about his appetite, just as you do now with Satoru. The same with his sleep, his recklessness during missions.

So he doesn’t want to lose you, at the risk of dying a second time.

~~~~

That same evening, you don’t return.

And Satoru notices immediately, because at bedtime, around 10 PM, you usually stop by his room — even more so now that he’s in the infirmary.

Missions take time. So Satoru reassures himself, thinking that you simply took longer and that by the next morning, you’d be by his side to check on him. He would apologize. He’d ask for forgiveness and try to understand the reason behind the instability in your voice before you left earlier.

Did he hurt you that much?

His train of thought is interrupted by urgent voices barking orders, and Shoko putting on her apprentice doctor’s coat as she grabs a spell manual on her way out, meeting Satoru’s confused gaze.

And he understands immediately who it’s about.

Despite his still weakened state and his inability to perform Reverse Curse Technique for some time now, Satoru pulls on his exorcist uniform, leaving his sunglasses on the bedside table, and follows Shoko and the team of medics heading toward a school car. But he swiftly grabs Shoko’s wrist.

If something happened to you, taking a stupid car would only lead to a certain death.

With a gaze as panicked as it is void, Satoru questions his friend.

“Mei Mei went to check on what happened,” Shoko murmurs gravely. “The mission was simple. She should’ve been back over five hours ago.” She points to the time on her watch.

1:20 AM.

Did he fall asleep while lost in thought? How had so much time passed since he noticed your absence earlier that night?

“And you think taking more time in this car is enough?” Satoru spits his words, his voice low but echoing nonetheless into the snowy night as flurries begin to fall around them. “Just tell me you want her dead now, then.”

Shoko glances at the waiting car.

“Then what do you suggest?” she asks, narrowing her eyes, scrutinizing her friend from head to toe before yanking her wrist back sharply. “Look at you. You can barely stand.”

“I can still teleport. You’re far more competent than these clowns,” Satoru replies in the same tone, grabbing her wrist again. “And let me remind you, we cannot lose her.” The warning in his voice sounds like a threat.

It’s only when Shoko finally relents that Satoru teleports them both after she gives him the location where Mei Mei last reported finding you. The pressure of the spell makes them feel like they’re being sucked through a narrow tube, or squeezed in a vice. When they finally arrive at your location, it’s with a pop sound, like a bubble bursting free.

Releasing Shoko’s wrist the very second they arrive, Satoru scans the surroundings — then freezes.

Mei Mei’s blue hair is bent over a body on the ground. In the dim light of the night, only the moon’s rays illuminate a pool resembling wine.

And Satoru would’ve prayed for it to be only wine.

He and Shoko rush toward Mei Mei, who steps aside to face them with a furrowed brow, her expression a foreboding omen.

“Internal bleeding,” she announces to Shoko.

The words ring like a gong in Satoru’s ears, now buzzing. His paralyzed body stands mere inches from you. Your half-closed eyes stare blankly into the void, your arms lying limply at your sides, and a streak of dried blood stains your cheek. Despite the presence of your friends, you don’t react.

Not even when Satoru says your name.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And as many times as it takes before Shoko and Mei Mei push him back, as he struggles to try to hold you in his arms, his hoarse voice cracking, begging you not to leave him.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Satoru Gojo, whose senses granted by his Six Eyes had long been dulled, awakens once again.

He hears your heart beating faintly. The pulse of your arteries, the successive waves of blood pushed by your struggling heart. Your shallow breaths slipping through damaged lungs. The warmth of your blood slowly leaking life away.

Please, no…

As long as it took for Satoru to recover a fraction of his powers, the same amount of time seems to pass while Shoko works quickly to stop your hemorrhaging.

He knows because he no longer hears the blood flowing out of your body. Your pulse has slowed, and though still weak, your heart beats with slightly more determination.

That determination, Satoru perceives as a flame.

A flame you refuse to let extinguish, because he knows you’re fighting not to pass on.

And if you no longer have the strength, Satoru will be the lighter forcing you to keep fighting. He will stay by your side as long as you need him.

And he will refuse to die a second time — unless it’s for you.

~~~~

A few days later.

The roles have reversed.

Satoru, fully recovered from his mission for a while now, devotes all his time to your care. He’s moved his belongings to the infirmary, where you remain recuperating. He insisted on pushing a bed right up against yours to monitor your sleep, your eating habits, and your overall well-being. 

Every movement you make is instantly picked up by his Six Eyes.

Your survival after your mission was nothing short of a miracle for Satoru.

A prayer he made — and one that was answered.

“You tired?” he asks softly, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His cerulean eyes linger on your still-fresh bandages, and a bitter pang squeezes at his heart.

You shake your head despite the telltale dark circles under your eyes. “I’m feeling better.”

“Bored?” he guesses then, raising an eyebrow slightly, his tone tinged with amusement. Is he planning something?

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Got something in mind?” you reply, curiosity sparking enough to make you want to laugh genuinely.

Lying beside you in his own infirmary bed pressed against yours, Satoru gently takes your hand in his. He lifts it to chest level, absentmindedly playing with your fingers. “I could put on a movie for us if you’d like…”

“What kind of movie? If you even think about suggesting that cursed Terrifier again, I swear I’ll strang—”

Satoru bursts into laughter at your disgusted expression. His chest shakes with every sound, lifting the weight of any lingering pain in his heart.

“I was thinking more along the lines of the new The Lion King movie,” he says with a mischievous grin.

“Mufasa, you mean?” Your face lights up for a moment. “But the movie has just been released,” you add, frowning slightly. “We can’t go anywhere.”

“Who said anything about going somewhere?” He wraps one long arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer just before planting a chaste kiss on your temple — a gesture that nearly makes your lungs give out.

Somehow, Satoru always manages to surprise you.

Despite the movie’s exclusive release at cinemas, half an hour later you find yourself watching it. 

Nestled against Satoru under some thicker blankets he brought, the two of you share snacks scattered across your laps. The only light in the infirmary is the soft glow of the film projector casting the movie onto a pristine wall.

Your cheek rests against Satoru’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat serving as the perfect lullaby to lull you to sleep. On top of that, his long fingers gently scratch your scalp, soothing you further into relaxation.

The moment feels so perfect you almost mistake it for a dream — but no.

Right now, it’s as if the depressive haze that had weighed down both you and Satoru has been blown away, replaced by a fleeting moment of happiness wrapped in the cocoon of this night.

Just like your feelings, the situation between you and Satoru is undefined and confusing. A shared closeness restored, mutual personal care, and a clear attachment to each other.

It seems like friendship, doesn’t it?

But then, why does your hand, resting on your friend’s chest, tremble at the thought of sliding around the back of his neck to pull him closer—close enough for your lips to finally meet his?

Feeling your trembling hand, Satoru shifts his attention away from the movie to look down at you. “Sweetheart?”

Your eyes meet his, drowning in the deep ocean of blue they hold.

With every passing second, you try to speak, to respond, to confess everything. To tell him everything. Yet, with your lips parted, all you can manage is a soft whisper:

“Nothing.”

~~~~

December 25th.

All of Tokyo Jujutsu High has gathered amidst the scents of warm food, the laughter of groups of friends, the unwrapping of gifts, and the feeling of family.

Yet, Satoru feels like something is missing.

This December 25th marks the first Christmas you, Shoko, and Satoru spend without Suguru.

So what’s the point of celebrating? What is Suguru doing right now? Is he spending such a special day all alone?

Alone, outside the school’s festive hall, Satoru stands bundled in a winter coat, snow as white as his hair delicately falling onto his frame. He’s leaning against a wall, as if that simple act could help him stay upright.

His throat tightens.

He wants Suguru back.

But he knows all too well that he won’t have him.

So Satoru doesn’t celebrate Christmas when the one source of his joy has vanished.

Inside the hall, you’re laughing wholeheartedly with a few friends, a glass of champagne in hand and a large scarf draped over your shoulders for warmth.

But amidst the small crowd, the one person who holds your heart is nowhere to be found.

Your smile slowly fades as your eyes frantically scan the room for Satoru. You excuse yourself hastily and begin to search — the hall, the restroom — before finally heading toward the door to the courtyard.

Almost sprinting, you step out into the biting December cold.

And there he is.

With measured steps, you move to stand beside him. He doesn’t budge, even as you gently wipe the dried tears from his face while he sniffles absentmindedly, his nose reddened by the sharp chill.

“Do you believe that he’s thinking of us right now?” Satoru murmurs, his voice rough and low.

“I’m sure of it,” you whisper softly in reply, pulling a tissue from your pocket and holding it to his nose so he can blow. A faint smile tugs at your lips as he thanks you with one last sniffle.

You’re about to put the tissue away when Satoru abruptly but tenderly pulls you into his arms, pressing you firmly against him.

“Satoru?” Your eyes search his, confused, as he leans his face as close to yours as possible, nearly sending your heart into overdrive when his long, slender nose brushes against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, his tone carrying a small smile.

Those three little words leave you speechless, your lips parted in shock at the confession and the sincerity behind it.

It’s as if your entire being comes alive again, breaking free.

After so long without crying, it only takes those words to bring tears back to the surface. Salty streams trail down your cheeks as your face twists, trying to hold back sobs.

“I love you too,” you cry, your voice trembling all the same.

Satoru, his own smile tinged with fragility, wipes your face just as you did for him. His thumbs gently rub your cheeks in a bittersweet comfort.

And in a synchronized motion, your lips connect, pressing against each other with an intensity that makes your souls whirl like the wind does with the falling snow.

Every time your lips part to end a kiss or catch your breath, you find each other again in the next second, as if eternity had tried to keep you apart. The cold ceases to exist around you; the warmth of your finally united souls is enough to melt the ice that had formed within you since Suguru’s departure.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss to catch your breath, your eyes no longer shining with tears, but with love this time.

Neither of you pulls away from the closeness you share. Your bodies speak for you, the silence between you filled with mutual understanding.

Satoru clears his throat. “Will you stay with me?”

It’s like a wish waiting to be granted.

“Forever.”

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix @moonlitwitchdaisy

a/n: hello everyone :)) this fic was special to write thh. it’s the one that came out of an episode of impostor syndrome where i just wrote without thinking. i’d been wanting to write angst about satoru for a loooong time, so here it is :) (why do i secretly hope i’ve made all of you cry?). anyway, we can finally breathe after big exams! i’ve never looked forward to the christmas vacations as much as this year, lmao. take care of your little faces <3

reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3

[daisymbin]

Ok so this might be very suggestive but imagine getting on the bus with hansol after a casual coffee date and the bus is crowded so you're standing in the standing area and he's standing facing u, kinda Like shielding u frm the crowd or smth & u r sharing earpods (🎵: double take ~ dhruv) & he's staring out of the window & you're staring at him and you randomly say 15. "you’re my favorite person, you know that?" Cuz u just realise u might still hv a crush on ur long term boyfriend

(This is my 5th ask pls bear with me i just love u too much)

Also I can get this look of his out of my mind

!!!! thank you for coming back!!!! i chose another song as requested!!! 🥲🤍

full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hansol's m.list

the bus was packed, the kind of crowded where personal space became a luxury, and you found yourself standing shoulder to shoulder with strangers. it wasn’t unusual, but today it felt different. maybe it was the warmth of the coffee date still lingering between you and hansol, or maybe it was the way he looked so effortlessly himself, casual and calm, as if the chaos of the world couldn’t touch him.

he stood beside you, one hand gripping the railing above while the other tugged at his earphones. he handed you one without a word, the gesture so familiar it made your heart ache in the best way.

“thanks,” you mumbled, slipping the earbud in.

“you don’t even know what song it is yet,” he teased, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“doesn’t matter. your playlists are always good.”

the faint intro of be your everything by boys like girls filled your ears. you bit back a smile at the song choice, wondering if he’d put it on for you or if it was just a coincidence. hansol didn’t say anything else, just turned to look out the window, his profile bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon.

you shifted slightly as the bus jolted forward, trying to steady yourself against the sway of the vehicle. the standing area was cramped, people pressed too close for comfort. and then it happened—a sharp stop at a red light sent someone stumbling into you, their shoulder colliding with yours.

you stumbled forward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you tried to regain your balance. hansol’s arm shot out instinctively, his hand catching your elbow and steadying you before you could fall.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, filled with concern.

“yeah,” you breathed, your heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with the near fall.

he frowned slightly, his hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer before he shifted, stepping in front of you. “here, stand like this,” he said, positioning himself between you and the crowd. his arm stretched out to hold the railing above your head, shielding you from the jostling around you.

you blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden closeness. “hansol, you don’t have to—”

“just in case,” he interrupted, his gaze flickering to yours briefly before returning to the window. “i don’t want you getting bumped into again.”

the way he said it, so matter-of-fact and protective, made your chest tighten.

the song played on, and you found yourself more focused on him than the music. his eyes were distant, watching the buildings pass by, his expression soft and almost thoughtful. you’d known him for so long, but moments like this still caught you off guard—the quiet way he cared, the little things he did without needing to be asked.

as the chorus swelled, you caught a lyric that made your breath hitch: “i’ll be your shelter, i’ll be your storm. i’ll make you shiver, i’ll keep you warm.”

something about those words hit you differently. they reminded you of everything hansol had been to you, everything he still was. he wasn’t just your boyfriend—he was your safe place, your calm in the chaos. and in that moment, staring at him as the music played on, you realized something.

you still had a crush on him. after all this time, after all the little moments and big ones, after he’d already become yours, the feeling hadn’t faded. it had only grown, deeper and stronger, filling every corner of your heart.

the words were out before you could think. “you’re my favorite person, you know that?”

hansol froze, his eyes flicking to yours, wide and disbelieving. “what?”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but there was no taking it back now. “i said you’re my favorite person.”

his lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he just stared at you. then, slowly, a shy smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart do flips. “me?”

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it off despite the fluttering in your chest. “obviously.”

he blinked a few times, his cheeks flushing a soft pink as he turned back to the window, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. “oh.”

you laughed softly at his reaction. “that’s all you have to say? ‘oh’?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “you caught me off guard. i don’t really know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything,” you said, your voice quieter now, more sincere. “i just… wanted you to know.”

hansol finally looked at you, his eyes warm and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “well, for the record,” he said softly, “you’re my favorite person too.”

the bus jolted again, but this time, you barely noticed. your hand brushed against his where it rested on the railing, and instead of pulling away, he let his pinky hook around yours, the small gesture sending a wave of warmth through you.

and as hansol glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a smile that was just for you, you knew one thing for sure—you’d never stop having a crush on him. not now, not ever.

the song faded into the next, but neither of you moved to change it. the bus ride continued, but the world outside felt like it had fallen away, leaving just the two of you in this small, crowded space.

[kinardsevan]

the in-between

still working on this but this came to me literally as I was waking up from a nap earlier (we won't discuss the fact that it was 8PM when I fell asleep and almost midnight when I woke up).

anyhoo.... enjoy what I have done so far!

-

Things were good. 

He wouldn’t actually label them as great. They hadn’t been great since…well. But they were good. Maddie coming home safe was good. The friendship quasi-relationship he seemed to be building with Josh was good. The conversation was good, the dates were good; fuck, even the sex was good. 

But. 

“He-hey, look who it is,” Chimney says in a sing-songy tone as he strides past Buck on the main floor of the firehouse. Buck looks up after him from where he’s wiping down the chrome of the ladder truck and smiles, spotting his sister. Just behind her a few paces is Josh, and he smiles. That’s nice. That’s….good. 

He tosses the cloth on his shoulder and crosses the space with Chimney, a few steps behind him, hugs Maddie once she’s separated from her husband and then follows it with a hug for Josh. It’s…good. 

“How was your first shift back,” he asks, looking back at his sister. 

“Good,” she says with a nod, making the word sound the way it actually should, instead of how it keeps coming out of Buck’s mouth lately. “Taking it slow, easing back into it, but it’s good.” 

“Good,” he says back to her. She quirks an eyebrow at him and he forces a smile. He doesn’t have it in him to have a full-fledged discussion with her right now about the implications of how he keeps saying that word, using it to describe things. He glances over at Josh and smiles at him again. The other man offers him a coffee he’s holding and Buck takes it gratefully. 

“You guys been busy?” Josh asks. 

Buck and Chimney share a glance, and he shrugs. 

“It’s been decent. Only a few calls overnight. Nothing too insane yet, but who knows.” 

“Watch your mouth, Buckley,” Chimney states, glancing down at his watch. “We’ve got two hours left on this shift and I have breakfast plans already.”

“That’s why we came,” Maddie interjects cheerfully. She glances back and forth between Chimney and Buck, eyeing her brother for just a second longer, curious at him, before looking back at her husband. “Wanted to know if you wanted to double.” 

“That should be fine,” Chimney answers cheerfully as Buck sips from his coffee. They all glance at him, waiting for a response, and he raises his eyebrows, sputtering a bit on the coffee in his mouth. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, trying to reflect the same joyful tone as the rest of them. “That should-..” 

The klaxons choose that moment to start going off, the automated call coming over the PA system, and they all glance up.

“Station 118 and 122 fire and rescue. Helicopter crash. Station 118 and 122 fire and rescue. Helicopter crash.” 

Buck and Chimney’s gaze locks, and the blood flushes from his face, coffee hitting the floor as his feet move beneath him. He’s around the truck and halfway to his turnouts when hands are on his chest, stopping him from moving any further. 

“Buck-..” 

“Bobby, let me go,” he rasps, trying to push past the man to get to his gear. 

“You need to-..” 

“I need to get my gear,” he argues, cutting Bobby off. “Let me go-..” 

“You can’t be on this one,” Bobby tells him. He looks past him toward where Maddie and Josh have moved but are still near the open bay doors. “You have family here.” 

It takes everything in him to swallow down the I have family out there that he wants to scream at Bobby. To not yell at every damn person in the room that they should be moving faster, that they don’t know what they’re walking into, that Tommy needs him, that-

“I’m not sitting out on this,” he growls, unable to stop the angry tears that flood his vision. They’re not helping his case at all, but he’ll be damned if he’s left behind to not know what’s happening out there, and they’re wasting time. “So fucking let me get ready or I’ll drive myself.” 

Bobby seems to measure him briefly, questioning the right move, but after a second, he releases Buck and in under a minute, he’s donned his turnouts and made it back to the truck, nevermind the fact that blood hasn’t returned to his face or the fact that his hands are shaking as he pulls his seatbelt on inside of the truck.

Eddie reaches across the space between their seats and pushes Buck’s headset down over his head, holding it in place briefly to try and ground him as they lock eyes. He watches him for a moment until Buck nods at him. Eddie nods back at him and lets go of the headset, squeezing his still-shaking hands briefly. No one else says anything.

Still, just inside the fire station, Josh looks over at Maddie. 

“So, I think that just ended,” he quips.

Maddie frowns at him. “My brother is a dick.” 

Josh snorts. “I mean yeah, but also, I wasn’t under some false pretense about all of this.” He pauses for a moment and eyes her, narrowing his gaze. “You guys all get that he’s in love with him, right?” 

Maddie sighs softly with a shake of her head. “Yeah. But I thought after the breakup, with time and someone new…” 

Josh snorts again at her. 

“What,” she asks him. 

Josh just shakes his head, smirking at her. “Your brother’s not getting over that one. Ball of flame or blaze of glory, that relationship’s only going out in one way. You’re stuck with Tommy for the long haul.” 

. . .

The ride takes too long and his hands never really stop shaking. By the time they make it to the scene, the 122 is already there, Deluca already checked in as IC. Bobby joins the other man, figuring out where to take point, while Eddie helps Barton and Rodgers work apart pieces of the helicopter. Buck is itching to get there, find out how bad it is, but Bobby won’t let him leave his side. 

“You brought Buckley to the scene,” Deluca comments derisively. 

“Shut it, Deluca,” Bobby cuts him off. “You’re no better for leading this call right now. Kinard-..” 

“Is family,” he states back. “And there’s not going to be a better team for this.” 

“So then let me fucking do my job,” Buck interjects. Both men look over at him with lingering glares. 

“Not a fucking chance,” Deluca tells him as Bobby shakes his head. “Your head isn’t in this, and your heart would cause more harm than good right now.” 

Buck grumbles at him, but he remains at Bobby’s side. 

[mossworth]

I probably should've written what I put in the tags into the body of the post but I was too far in

ppl have made fun of me for double spacing after end punctuation so i want to know if theres anyone else who learned that ur supposed to double space after end punctuation when u learned typing

example: This is cool. You are cool, too!

pls reblog for larger sample size

[nottsangel]

shared spaces — t.n. & m.r. & l.b.

pairing: fem!reader x theo nott x mattheo riddle x enzo berkshire. new girl au — in which you live together.

warnings: smut 18+, foursome, threeway kiss, oral sex (m. receiving), double penetration (unprotected vaginal and anal sex), fingering, bad italian probably (sorry!), creampie, praise, choking

word count: 4.6k

summary: a night of drinking with your roommates takes an unexpected turn when innocent teasing escalates into a foursome you’ll never forget.

moodboard. nav. more content.

Roommates. That’s all you, Theodore, Mattheo and Lorenzo were. Not friends, fuck no. Just… roommates. Nothing more, nothing less. Roommates you could kill with your bare hands at times, that is— especially when you were lying in bed late at night, headphones turned up to max volume, while all three boys were busy slamming their cock into whatever random girl was foolish enough to go home with them that day. Or when you came back to the cramped apartment, swung open the freezer, and discovered that they’ve eaten all the ice cream you’d been looking forward to eating all day.

Oh, how you desperately wished you were living somewhere else in those moments— anywhere, really. But unfortunately, you didn’t have a choice. You urgently needed a place after breaking up with your cheating ex-boyfriend, and this was the best you could find at that time.

But it was fine. Not great, but fine. You lived your own life, and so did they. You didn’t talk to them much—only when necessary—and avoided them as much as you could. It might sound unfriendly and hostile, you were fully aware of that, but they were too busy bragging to each other about the girls they hooked up with anyway, and you had no desire to be part of that conversation. And it was whatever. You were content like this, minding your own business. And you were planning to continue living exactly like this until you found a better place to live… But was that still what you really wanted?

After a few chaotic months of living together, everything began to change dramatically. As much as you despised these same boys not too long ago—well, you still very much do—the dynamics between the three of you had completely shifted. You weren’t just roommates anymore, no, you were… a little more than that.

What exactly, you might ask? Well, Lorenzo liked to call it RWB (roommates with benefits), which resulted in a slap to the head each time he brought it up. You flat-out refused to ever call it that. And besides, whatever the hell it was, you didn’t even want to label it.

Anyway, to cut straight to the point without beating around the bush any longer— you were having sex with your roommates. Yes, each one of them. All fucking three. The three boys that you used to fight with over the most minuscule things you could possibly think of, are now the same boys pinning you down onto your mattress until you’re drooling all over the sheets ‘cause of how good they were fucking you. It all strangely unfolded so naturally and so gradually, as if the lines between friendship and desire were slowly fading away without anyone noticing. Still, it felt wrong, it felt dirty, but god, it felt so fucking good too.

To go back to the beginning and provide some much-needed context, it all started with them sharing you, actually. But not at the same time— no, that felt far too weird and awkward. Instead, they took turns sleeping with you separately, with each one of them fucking you whenever the mood struck, which happened a lot. Just casually brushing past them in the kitchen and feeling your ass press against their crotch was enough to drag you into their rooms. And it was fucking amazing— each one of them had their own unique qualities, fucking you in ways the others couldn’t.

Theo, for instance, was great at dirty talk and foreplay. He’d shamelessly whisper filthy words to you in Italian with that low, seductive voice of his as his fingers were buried deep inside of you, curling up so perfectly— he never failed to get you dripping wet in an instant.

Mattheo was a fucking god at eating you out— he could make you cum within seconds, the way his tongue skilfully sucked on your clit had you gripping his brown locks tightly.

And Lorenzo? He could put you into positions you never knew were possible, hitting spots so incredibly deep inside of you that your legs trembled uncontrollably each time you found yourself in his bed.

But still, it had its downsides. Fucking each one of them individually meant a lot of sex and left you sore and limping around, which eventually began to exhaust you, pushing you past your limits physically. It was simply too much for you to handle. All three of their sex drives were sky-high, and you, being just one girl in a house with three boys, just couldn’t fulfil their needs all the time. 

So that’s when threesomes began to happen. And ohhh, a new world opened up to you. It was exhilarating, it was experimental, it was even better than the sex before, and with all the attention on you, you couldn’t get enough. So far, you’ve explored every possible threesome combination, and their skills combined were absolutely mind-blowing. You were hornier than ever—more needy, more aroused—and so were they.

But was that really the limit? threesomes? well, you thought it was— until tonight happened. It was just another drunken night with the boys, gathered in the cosy living room, playing whatever random board games you had dug out from the back of your closet, stacked away and long forgotten since you moved in. 

The evening began so innocently, filled with laughter and lighthearted chatter as you drank some leftover alcohol from a party the week prior— until you unconsciously started inching closer to them, the chilly night breeze sneaking through the windows causing you to seek more warmth. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, though. You always became touchy and clingy whenever you were drunk— everyone knew that.

But with them being intoxicated as well, they found it increasingly difficult to control themselves around you, eyeing you with hungry, lustful gazes, especially as your lace bra temptingly peeked out from under your tight-fitting top and your short skirt inched higher with every movement you made. 

Usually, after one of these nights, you’d end up going to bed with one of them—maybe two if the night called for it—but there was always one of them who was too tired or had some other girl come over anyway. Tonight was undeniably different, though, and you could feel it— they all wanted you.

Lorenzo and Mattheo sat on either side of you, with Lorenzo’s wandering hand slowly trailing over your bare, goosebumps-covered thigh, sending shivers cursing through your body, while Mattheo’s hand rested around your waist under your shirt, rubbing gentle circles on your soft skin with his thumb. Their warm hands felt nice on your cold body, but you couldn’t deny the ache building between your legs at both their irresistible touches.

The scent of their musky, aromatic colognes mingled with the smell of all kinds of alcohol, filling your nostrils, as their warm bodies pressed closely against yours, causing a small, amused smile to form on your lips at the sudden realisation that there was more than enough room on the couch for both of them. But no, they wanted to sit as close as possible to you, eagerly craving the feeling of your skin against theirs, even though a barrier of fabric still separated you from them. You didn’t have to read their minds to know how badly they wanted to rip it off your body.

Meanwhile, Theo sat across from you, watching the scene before him unfold with a cocky, lopsided smirk and dark eyes, fully aware that both drunken enzo and mattheo lacked any ounce of self-control strong enough to resist you, so he lazily let them do all the work of getting you aroused and horny before joining. Occasionally, he took a slow sip from his drink, but his intense gaze never left yours, absorbing the way you reacted to their touches and he knew— under your tiny skirt, your panties were soaked already.

And god, he was right. Just the slightest, teasing touch had you dripping wet already, as their firm hands continued to roam over your body, growing more hungrily and desperately with each passing second, both of them breathing heavily on either side of you.

For a fleeting moment, you lock eyes with Theo through your drowsy gaze, his own intense eyes fixated on you as your roommates explored your body, only making you more desperate and turned on.

“Sei così calda.” Theo murmured in a low, husky voice, his eyes glued to your body, eliciting an irritated groan from Mattheo as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Oh, shut up mate, no one can understand you.” he retorted, frustration lacing his tone. Theo simply chuckled in response, completely unfazed by him, fully aware of the underlying reasons for his annoyance. Mattheo hated it whenever Theo spoke Italian because he knew it gave him an undeniable advantage with girls, who swooned all over Theo the moment seductive Italian words flowed from his lips.

“Be nice, Matt” you warned, trying to appear stern but the alcohol cursing through your system made you uncontrollably let out a small giggle, causing Mattheo’s expression to soften too.

“I am nice. Is having my hands all over your body not me being nice, princess?” he teased with a cheeky smirk, his hand trailing down your bare back under your shirt toward your ass as his eyes hungrily gazed right at you through half-lidded eyes, a combination of lust and intoxication evident in their depths, his warm body merely inches away from yours. Your hazy, drunken state, their warm hands gliding all over your chilled skin, theo’s piercing eyes staring right at you— your head felt like it was spinning.

Suddenly, as if reading each other’s minds, both boys gently yet eagerly brushed your hair from your neck to expose it, then attached their soft lips to the sensitive skin at the same time, sloppily sucking dark hickeys into your neck from both angles. You couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan, helplessly pressing your thighs together to create some friction as Mattheo and Lorenzo breathed heavily right into your ear, sending electric shivers down your spine.

They were both becoming more and more desperate, frantically sucking on your skin, the alcohol coursing through their bodies and intense desire to have you blurring their minds and causing them to lose all inhibitions. Mattheo groaned in pleasure, taking a not-so-subtle sniff as licked your neck like a popsicle, leaving a slick trail of saliva in his wake. He felt lightheaded, completely entranced by your sweet scent and the softness of your skin, his hand greedily squeezing your waist.

“Mmm, I can, like, taste your perfume… so sweet and… a bit… alcoholic, like a— like a pornstar martini.” 

“What the—” Lorenzo instantly pulled away from your neck, glaring at Mattheo with a disgusted look on his face, his top lip curling in distaste and his brows furrowed in disbelief.

“Mattheo, shut the fuck up, will you?” 

“What did I do now?!”

“You’re ruining the mood, saying weird shit like that.” 

“Oh, fuck off—”

Before they could bicker any further, you abruptly grasped both their jaws at the same time and gently guided their heads towards yours into a sudden kiss, your soft lips pressing against theirs as their eyes reluctantly fluttered shut.

You could tell they were hesitant at first, both of them unwilling to touch each other in any way, but the drinks they had earlier were working its magic as you quickly felt their tongues eagerly moving against yours, their hesitation disappearing in a split second.

Soon, all three of you were completely entangled in the kiss, with one of their hands on the back of your head, drawing you in, while another firmly squeezed your bare thigh, as though trying to steady himself. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment as you pulled them closer and closer, spit mixing between you three, and the usually noisy living room was unusually quiet for once, except for the sounds of heavy breathing, soft moans, and wet lips smacking together.

The tension was only rising more, all of you growing more eager with each passing second, your tongues moving in perfect harmony with each other, as though you’d done this a thousand times before. And you were yearning for even more, all of you were, your body trembling with need as your arousal slicked your thighs, dripping onto the couch beneath you. The initial hesitation to touch each other had long faded by now, desire consuming you all, thickening the air with an overwhelming mix of lust and anticipation, until—

“Alright. that’s enough.” Theo broke the silence as he suddenly stood in front of the couch, casting a dark shadow over the three of you. He assertively took your wrist and forcefully pulled you up from your seat, while both boys stared up through drowsy eyes, their swollen, spit-covered lips glistening, and your lipstick messily smudged across their flushed faces, wearing dazed and slightly bewildered expressions that hinted at their drunken state.

In one swift, fluid movement, Theo effortlessly threw you over his shoulder, eliciting a surprised squeal from you followed by a drunken giggle, as he playfully slapped your ass with an amused, mischievous smirk dancing on his lips.

The moment Theo walked into your room, he roughly threw you onto your bed, your body bouncing slightly with the impact as you gazed up at him. In contrast to the chilly living room, the temperature here was more pleasant, with the lingering scent of flowery candles you lit earlier still filling the room.

Theo approached you with a dominant air, each long step creaking on the wooden floor, sending your heartbeat racing. When he finally stood before you, he traced his thumb gently over your burning cheek, before slipping it into your mouth, making you suck on it and he groaned at the sight, his eyes darkening. “So fuckin’ pretty.” 

Heat flooded your core at the sudden praise, your lace panties now uncomfortably soaked with arousal. Drool trickled from the corners of your swollen lips, his thumb still deep in your mouth as you gazed up at him with half-open, dazed eyes. His tall, imposing figure loomed over you, casting a shadow as he tilted his head in approval, drinking in the sight of you beneath him. 

He slowly pulled his thumb out of your mouth, a thin trail of spit still connecting your lips to his finger before he made his way to your bed, lowering himself onto it and motioning with his hand for you to come closer. His demeanour was power-driven, cocky, and lustful, as he leaned back against the headboard, his legs spread wide, his eyes devouring you. You crawled toward him on all fours, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage, your tits nearly spilling out of your shirt as you moved. 

“You look so sexy right now, I might just keep you all to myself tonight.” he growled, his voice low and commanding. He didn’t waste much time before gripping the back of your head and eagerly pulling you into a fierce, hungry kiss, his tongue dominantly entering your mouth, not wanting to waste any of the little time he had alone with you. 

In the background, you could faintly hear Mattheo and Lorenzo still in the living room, their voices muffled through the thin walls as they bickered once again, but you could make out a sharp “don’t you fucking dare tell anyone about this!” and frustrated “you really can’t kiss, you know that? we’re never doing this shit again!”, followed by an exaggerated sound of gagging, causing you to giggle into the kiss. 

Theo's warm hand slowly traced from your waist down to your ass, relishing the way you melted under his touch, while his other hand guided yours to his crotch, placing it over his already throbbing erection before he finally pulled away from the kiss.

“Feel how hard I am for you?” theo whispered in a low, sultry voice, the words sending a rush of heat through your body as you palmed him through his tight pants. “All this is for you, amore.”

Just then, you heard Mattheo and Lorenzo stumble down the hallway, their footsteps heavy and unsteady as they sprinted towards your room, clumsily knocking over whatever was in their way, too eager to even care, before finally stepping inside and hastily slamming the door shut.

The first view that met their eyes was your ass raised high in the air, angled perfectly towards them, your skirt having ridden up all the way over your waist, giving them a perfect view of your drenched underwear as you were bent over, hungrily kissing theo. 

“Holy… fuck…” 

“So— uhm, yeah, we’re— we’re here” they stammered, staring at the scene in front of them with their mouths half open and painfully hard boners visible through their pants, forming noticeable wet patches on the fabric.

Theo's hand on your ass then travelled to the waistband of your panties, teasingly sliding it down and tossing it carelessly to the floor, revealing your glistening cunt with your arousal dripping down the insides of your thighs. Both Mattheo and Lorenzo felt as if they were about to explode and could cum at the sight alone already, but were quickly snapped back to reality when you pulled away from Theo's lips and broke the silence. 

“So? You’re gonna help me out or what?” you taunted impatiently with a teasing grin, feeling painfully empty as you squeezed around nothing. They both blinked erratically as they were pulled out of their trance and nodded their heads, eagerness evident in their expressions.

You soon felt both their roaming hands on your body, exploring every inch eagerly with fervent curiosity as they hastily undressed you until you were completely naked, making you more aroused with each tantalising second. You felt their hands everywhere— squeezing your ass, pinching your sensitive nipples, teasingly brushing against your aching cunt. It was driving you wild as you simultaneously unbuckled theo’s belt, staring up at him while he gazed back down at you with that smug, cocky smile that made your heart race.

“You think you can handle all of us at the same time, bella?” you nodded without a second thought, your mind completely consumed by the desperate need for all three of them as you freed Theo’s throbbing cock from his pants, instantly jumping against his stomach as precum leaked from the swollen tip.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” you parted your lips, letting a glistening trail of spit land on his cock as he intently watched you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, biting his lip in anticipation, before your mouth finally met the swollen tip. You gently swirled your tongue over the most sensitive part, causing him to let out a deep, guttural moan, meanwhile behind you, you felt a pair of fingers—you weren’t even sure whose—rubbing your clit in slow circles as you simultaneously heard the frantic unbuckling of belts. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck!” Theo’s hand moved to your head, fingers threading through your hair before taking a fistful of it and pulling your hair back into a loose ponytail, ensuring it was out of your way. Your head slowly sank down, taking him all the way into your mouth until you felt the tip brush against the back of your throat and your lips pressed against his balls, causing Theo to throw his head back in pure bliss.

When you felt two fingers suddenly enter you, you moaned loudly around Theo, the sound vibrating against him as the fingers curled up perfectly against your sensitive g-spot. Feeling desperate for more, you pushed your ass back with the movements, instinctively trying to create more friction as the slick, lewd sounds of their digits pumping deep inside of your wet cunt filled the room, mixing with your soft whimpers of pleasure.

“Fuck, she’s so wet” you heard Mattheo groan from behind you as if you weren’t even in the room, his voice thick with desire as he quickly rubbed circles on your aching clit and watched Lorenzo finger you at the same time, causing your legs to shake uncontrollably, your arousal dripping all over their quick hands. 

“She’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight— I can tell she wants more.” They were bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your release building with each passing second, but he was right— you wanted, no, needed more. You were craving to feel them, both of them.

“Yeah? You want more, baby? You want us to fuck you at the same time, hm?” Mattheo questioned, and you instantly pulled your lips from Theo with a soft plop, panting as soft ‘please’s desperately slipped from your spit-covered lips.

“Alright. But, uh, let me fuck her ass this time, yeah?” Lorenzo demanded at mattheo as he aggressively shoved him out of the way with his shoulder, causing mattheo to stumble to the side before retaliating with both hands pushing against his chest.

“Nah, it’s my fucking turn.” 

“What the fuck do you mean?” 

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I'm telling you mate, it’s my tu— alright. rock, paper, scissors to settle this, yeah?”

“Hm, fine… ready? rock…pa—“

“Oh my god, you fucking idiots. Enzo, get under me now before I lose my patience!” you snapped, drunk exasperation lacing your voice while Theo lifted himself from beneath you, shaking his head in a mix of disapproval and amusement, a grin spreading across his face.

“Whatever.” Lorenzo sighed defeatedly as he replaced Theo’s position, pulling you on top of him, his aching cock already nudging at your entrance. Theo settled beside you on the bed, swiftly passing the lube from the nightstand to Mattheo, all while amusingly watching Lorenzo make an even bigger fool of himself. 

“What? You don’t want to fuck me? ‘Cause you can go jerk off in the fucking corner if that’s what you’d rather do.” You hissed at Lorenzo, glaring down at him. His eyes momentarily widened in surprise, before he shook his head in playful defiance and let out a low chuckle. Abruptly, he gripped your jaw, pulling your face close to his, and kissed you hungrily as if apologising. “Oh, c’mon baby, you know I love your pussy.”

A small, satisfied smile uncontrollably tugged at the corners of your lips as he rubbed his cock along your folds, teasing you while gazing up at you with that mischievous, sly smirk of his. He then firmly gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, and slowly pushed into your dripping cunt, hissing at the feeling of being swallowed by your warmth. You quickly steadied yourself with your hands resting on his bare chest, feeling him deep inside of you and completely stretching you out, yet still craving more. 

“You ready baby?” Mattheo asked from behind you as he spread your cheeks, gazing down with hungry, lustful eyes. “Mhm, please.” You begged, your voice a breathless whisper as you heard him pop the cap of the lube off before hastily rubbing himself with it and slowly pushing into you.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. The feeling of being stretched out by both of their cocks at the same time was so intoxicating, it left you breathless and made your heart race. It was simply indescribable how good it really felt. The sensation caused you to instinctively arch your back as you clutched the sheets tightly, consumed by sheer pleasure, every nerve ending in your body tingling with electric intensity. Mattheo was now fully inside you as well and patiently waited for you to adjust to the intense feeling.

Theo then firmly gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze as you stared up at him through barely open eyes and furrowed brows. “Does that feel good, hm? Having two dicks inside of you?” you nodded with your lips slightly parted in ecstasy, unable to form any coherent sentences. 

“C’mon bella, use your words.” 

“Feels— feels so fucking good, fuck!” 

“Hm, that’s more like it. Open up baby, ‘cause we aren’t done yet.” 

You obediently parted your lips wider to let Theo enter your mouth, his hand pressing against the back of your head guiding you deeper as he let out an almost primal groan, throwing his head back at the sensation of your warm mouth. At the same time, both Lorenzo and Mattheo began to move at a slow, deliberate pace, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the heavenly feeling of them stretching you out completely from both holes. 

Strings of muffled curse words slipped from your lips as Theo mercilessly fucked your face, his piercing eyes staring down at you as he bit his lip, a low growl of pleasure escaping him. The other two boys quickly began to increase their pace, causing you to see stars as they could feel each other move against one another through the thin flesh that separated them, only intensifying the immense pleasure they were already feeling.

“Look at her— she can barely handle it, having three dicks inside of her.” Mattheo taunted, his hands tightly gripping the soft flesh of your ass as he relentlessly slammed into your tight hole at a brutal pace, causing you to moan loudly around Theo's throbbing erection. Your vision blurred as Lorenzo's hand moved to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it possessively, choking you just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“You’re taking us so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for us.” Lorenzo growled as he gazed deep into your hazy eyes. Your head felt like it was spinning from the intense sensation, both of them pounding into you at a merciless pace, filling both your holes so deliciously while theo thrust into your mouth, making you gag on his thick cock.

The pornographic sounds of heavy breathing, lewd moans, and loud skin smacking completely filled the room, and you were certain you’d hear complaints from your nagging neighbours the next day, but right now, your mind was too clouded by the pleasure to even care. The feeling was beyond words and you couldn’t get enough. 

“Such a dirty fuckin’ slut. One dick just wasn’t enough for you, huh? Sei tutta nostra.” Theo taunted as he slid his hand beneath you to your core, rubbing fast circles on your swollen clit while maintaining his brutal pace.

It was becoming too much as both Lorenzo and Mattheo continuously hit your most sensitive spots, quickly sending you spiralling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. You moaned loudly, your eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy while your nails dug deep into Lorenzo’s chest. You nearly collapsed on top of him, but theo quickly caught you, holding you up by your jaw with a gentle yet firm grip.

Not much later, Theo and Lorenzo reached their orgasms as well, both emptying themselves deep inside your cunt and mouth while Mattheo pulled out and came on your ass, feeling his warm sperm on your skin in thick spurts, painting you white.

The four of you froze for a moment, trying to catch your breath, chests heaving up and down as if the room was spinning around you from both the aftermath of the orgasm combined with the intoxicated state you were all still very much in. Theo gently wiped the excess sperm from the corner of your mouth with his thumb, hazily smiling down at you. 

Lorenzo was the first to break the silence, much to your annoyance, a lazy smile stretching across his face as he leaned back against the headboard. “So, uhm… roommates with benefits, huh?” 

“NO! Stop trying to make that a thing!” 

“Nice way to instantly ruin the mood, mate.” 

“No offense but I’d rather cut off my own dick than refer to any of you as that.” 

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

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[squiddy-god]

The Hydro Dragon? A closet freak!?

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I have no excuse for this other than I NEED this man so bad it makes me look stupid. He's just so…dreamy sigh anyway here are some hcs that i have for the Iudex of fontaine. This is really long. I think I blacked out writing this. This is 6 pages of google docs single spaced size 11 arial font. I think i need to be sedated

♥︎REQUEST ARE OPEN ♥︎

Cw : this is pure filthy smut, freak Neuvillette, dragon form, monster fucking, inhuman genitals, double dick, desperate kinda pussy drunk Neuvillette, soft dom and hard dom, no pronouns but afab anatomy, implied chubby reader, squirting, bath sex, rut, breeding kink, just pure horny, slight cumflation, oviposition,egg mention, a little bit of predator prey vibes, overstimulation, tail riding. Very slight watersports mentioned, Daycraphilia, Nasty dragon man, sweat and liquids. Spit swapping, spit swallowing, spit kink, marking, biting, possessiveness.PIV sex, possible anal, Title kink? Sir kink? Innocence and court kink?(trust me bro) Reader is matching this mans freak. Aftercare is given, safeword is in place even if not mentioned explicitly

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Neuvillette is not entirely oblivious, he knows that he has needs and instincts but what he is wholly unaware of is that many of these instincts and desires are quite… out of the ordinary

There's also the fact that he has like 0 experience, so all of these desires are rather new or have been festering in his dragon mind for centuries

What the Iudex of fontaine lacks in experience he makes up for in the fact that he is downright insatiable and animalistic at times

When you first got with him you quickly realized that this man was incredibly touch starved, even the most innocent and fleeting touch from his beloved sets his very being to a burning desire.

And he is embarrassed to say that he craves it Neuvillette craves your touch in both a innocent and intimate way to the point you are shocked to find just how clingy he is towards you

The only time when he's not touching you, holding you, trying to sait the burning you leave him with is when he has court, and once he is out of court his mind returns to you, making sure you have a permanent seat at the opera house right next to his usual reserved seating.

Once he's out of court he's by your side, placing a kiss to the back of your hand and guiding you with a hand to the small of your back

To the people of fontaine he is a doting and protective lover, which is true, but they don't know the sheer levels of clingy that he is

He tries at first to contain this, so he doesn't scare you off, but eventually he simply needs you to be close to him

The other thing that comes as a shock is that this man is a freak

Let's start with his more inhuman side

The reason he is so covered is because his skin is slightly scaly, beautiful scales of cyan and cerulean blues that layer his skin in large patches, the main areas are his sides and part of his back, his thighs and his arms where they seem to sit permanently much like his pointed ears and horns (the blue streaks in his hair are horns trust me on this) when he uses his hydro powers or lets loose they glow

When he really lets loose the scales creep up his neck to his jaw, his ears seem to grow longer and more pointed, his teeth get sharper, his nails seem to grow more into claws and his pupils draw into slits.

His eyes and the rest of him seems to give off a faint blue glow

His tongue is long- like really long- and forked- and when he lets loose its a deep shade of blue

His cocks- both of them are far from human, hidden behind a vent they are ribbed un the underside with the head coming to a slight point, the top side is lined with bumps that resemble small tendrils, they line the head of his cocks to.

His tips are flushed an angry dark blue

This man has nice veins, his cocks are quite veiny but the veins along his body are rather pronounced as well, a deep blue, good and hydrated

He also has a large tail, its long and a deep blue fully scaled, thick at the base and tapers till the tailfins witch are a almost iridescent cyan and resemble the ends of his coattails

Ok now into the real smutty stuff-

He needs it messy, as messy and wet as possible, the problem is the more wet and messy it gets the hornier he gets in return

If the bed sheets aren't soaked and dripping wet with just about every fluid possible then he isn't satisfied

And i mean the bed sheets look like they just came out of a river

He gets so pussy drunk- this man is insatiable and eats you out for his own pleasure, basically tongue fucking you to drink up all of your juices he possibly can

The taste of you is intoxicating and he cannot get enough

The first time he eats you out, his tongue fucking into your overstimulated hole before he finally pulls out and his long tongue wraps around your clit as he all but makes out with your lower half and you wine out that it feels weird like your goona pee-

And this freak without hesitation presses on your stomach as you cum from his unrelenting ministrations

Because he is a freak who doesn't understand that things like that are not in fact what most are into. (he is eternally shocked when you explain this to him, trying to tell him his taste in kinks and fetishes are abnormal. Cannot fathom how it isn't hot to others)

But when to his shock you squeal and squirt his mouth, chin, and chest soaked along with the sheets

You are mid apology for the mess when you look at his eyes, his pupils are blown wide as saucers as he stares down at you breath heavy- downright ragged and he groans so low it rumbles in his chest and almost sounds like a growl

“I hadn't known that this was something the human body could do” before his pupils contract into little slits and he is licking you clean before he goes right back into trying to make you squirt again-

He is obsessed with you squirting, the fact that you were so lost in (the sauce) pleasure that you produced a significant volume of liquid? This man lives off of moisture, his favorite drink is water and he needs everything to be moist and wet for him to be fully comfortable, such is the nature of the hydro dragon. So it shouldn't be a shock that he is obsessed with making you squirt

Usually this leaves you rather overstimulated, tears pricking the corners of your eyes and running down your cheeks

Oh and Neuvillette love it- tears of pleasure soon laped away by his tongue as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss

Asks you with utmost seriousness to spit in his mouth and is confused by how flustered that makes you

But once you do he is practically moaning at the taste, greedily drinking whatever you will give him

And if you match his freak? Ask him to spit in your mouth? He's gone lmao- truly you are a blessing hand picked from celestia just for him

The first time you gave him head and spit on his cocks so you could switch between sucking and stroking them, making sure they got equal attention, he came instantly. The sight was just too much for him to handle

Neuvillette cums an insane amount. Its slightly watery but the amount is ridiculous, his precum is enough to have you thinking he already busted, but when he actually cums its like a broken faucet taking several gulps to swallow down and it still manages to coat you

And he just stays hard as a rock, the dragon stamina is insane and is even worse when he's in a rut

He loves to see you absolutely plastered with his cum, dripping all over you and out of you

The way your poor tummy is bloated while his clawed fingers push the rapidly escaping liquid back into you

The breeding kink on this man is unmatched, and i mean the only other contender who even comes close is tartaglia “PLAP PLAP PLAP GET PREGNANT GET PREGNANT” ajax,

Neuvillette doesn't care if you actually can get pregnant or not- he is breeding you and he will make it happen

More freaky shit the man is obsessed with your sweat

He always hates when it gets too hot out but he thinks he can stand it when he sees the beads of sweat rolling down your body as you guzzle down a bottle of water.

Has to restrain himself with a white knuckled grip on his cane to stop from licking the sweat off of you

Once you are alone tho? He is absolutely licking you, to the point you can't tell if it's the sweat or the saliva that's dripping off of you.

Another chance to match his freak. Once on a hot day in his office you gave him a chaste kiss to his jaw, witch already had him longing, but then you licked a strip up the chiseled line of his jaw and he came in his pants

Work was finished early that day

If there's one thing that gets him worked up its seeing you wet in any context, or seeing you return the desire he has for you. All in all he wants you to desire him, to long for him

I think he has a large bathtub, really its more like a pool that happens to be heated and deep, with benches along the edges for sitting. Again like a large heated swimming pool

His favorite place to fuck you is in his bath, despite the scene of soaked silk sheets being burned ito him mind, fucking you in his element is just something else honestly.

The water sloshing against you accompanied by the lewd sound of you getting absolutely rearranged? Music to his pointed ears.

Almost forgot to mention this but his cock glows and throbs, the veins pulsing with a slight glow- and if you get him horny and desperate enough (not hard this man is easy to get bricked up-) mostly after he's spent hours between your legs or making out with you, you can even see and feel how his cocks seem to writhe and they write inside you too, when their thickness is stuffed into your hole(s) and Neuvillette is about to cum again they writhe and squirm in your gummy walls sending you over the edge as they poke against that gummy spot inside of you

Neuvillette wants to have both his cocks in just your one hole but he knows the stretch of just one is intense so he won't indulge unless you beg him for it

Once when he was at work you decided to take a nice bath, to ease your sore muscles and the numerous marks littering your body, from bite marks to dark hickeys all over

The Iudex can be quite possessive at times, the dragon instincts letting that possessive streak coil in the pit of his stomach because you are his mate and when he says his, he means it.

When he gets possessive like this he gets meaner- no one in fontaine dares to flirt with his lover, out of both respect and slight fear of the consequences (harassment is taken very seriously)

But every so often someone wants to test his patience, or a foreigner who has no idea who you are oversteps. He is always calm, firm hand on your back as he states that it is rude and impolite to so vulgarly pursue his partner

But when the two of you are back at your shared home? He is a bit mean, rougher as he needs you to say that you're his over and over again.

This is where the title kink(?) and sir kink come in. call him “sir neuvillette” “sir Iudex” profess your innocence, plead your case to him, prove the other party guilty

And he will relent his marking and harsh grip infavore of soft open mouth kisses and the pleasure he bistoes on you

Afterall he is a benevolent and fair judge

Back to the bath-

You took a bath without him, witch is a rare occasion as he loves to bathe with you, even in a non sexual context. It is simply a comfortable intimacy for him

But this time is different

Seeing you surrounded by his element of hydro, the room moist with steam as your body glistens with moister, his eyes go to saucers again and he is quick to approach

Tugging off his gloves with his teeth and letting them cup your cheek and travel beneath the water while he leaves sweet kisses on your skin until he cant help himself and dips his head to the place where the water rest against your chest and he drinks

Like a man lost in the dessert, you can hear the obscene gulps this man lets out

The freak in him drinks your fucking bath water and has absolutly no shame about it

In Fact it has his cocks aching for you, while his expression can only be described as adoration

Because the Iudex of fontaine adores you in a way that is only brought on by centuries of longing for a person he has never met

He is much worse during his rut

It is a week solid of him just absolutely fucking you into whatever surface or body of water he can find

His throat is tight and dry, no amount of water seems to be able to quench this thirst and so he drink you

If you thought he was a munch before then the glint in his eyes at the scent of your arousal is downright predatory

He makes sure you drink about as much water as him, witch is a feat of its own, just so that you have more for him to drink from you

His taste for water is extraordinary on a good day but it even more apparent in his rut,

Because regardless of when it is he can taste you. The kind of water or liquids you drink seeps into everything, he can taste it in you sweat, in your slick, in your spit- the cool refreshing quality of mondstat, the mineraly flavor of inazuma, the sweet taste of sumeru, the tang and burn of inazuma, he can taste it normally but in rut he is downright shameful about describing how you taste on his tongue.

Has you drink different imported watters between rounds to get full flavor

Practically begs to breed you- hes already bad on a regular day, his paternal instincts too stong- but now its different, he wants his eggs inside you, wants you swollen and barefoot around his manor and he needs it- if you aren't ready he’ll just stuff you full like he normally does with cum he knows wont take, but he can hope

Remember how I said he doesn't care if you can get pregnant? Yeah that's because it doesn't matter- the part that matters is his eggs-

On the chance you do say yes to his eggs he is overjoyed, biting down on your shoulder with a bit of venom that numbs your mind- just enough so the stretch of his eggs and the way he has to deposit them doesn't hurt

Speaking of biting the first rut you spend with him is intense, its a week he takes off, (it is now regularly built into his schedule that he has a solid week blocked out for his rut) its his first rut he hasn't forcefully suppressed or simply worked through in solitude and now he has a mate to spend it with?

The first time he slides his length inside you he can resist the urge to sink his teeth into you, right where your shoulder meets your neck he bites down hard

A permanent bite mark with a small hydro mark in the center that glows faintly when he touches you, or when it rains, or you touch water. The glow sends a pleasant and refreshing feeling, like warmth without heat

Because he is so much more thirsty the dirty man fuck you in the bath a lot more and ends up drinking your bathwater more

Be a freak, do it back, drink this man up because he is a tall glass of water.

You do have needs, you can just be attached to the Iudex for a week straight, even tho he insists he could send someone to go grocery shopping, you so cruelly leave him to fist his cocks while you are out getting fresh air.

Personally I like the idea of neuvillettes home being underwater like those glass structures you can find in fontaine. Its huge in a lake, half of it is a beautiful mix of stained and clear glass, even some that seem iridescent, the other half is built in the same french rococo style as the mansions of fontaine, with the exception that it is built into the rocky wall of the deep lake. There is a tunnel that leads to the oceans of fontaine and its ideal for neuvillette. But you need fresh air

So you are gone for a few hours on the surface and he is suffering,

By the time you get back he the mansion is dark, none of the lights are on and it was raining outside (hence your hasty return)

The second you step in through the elevator down you can tell something- someone is watching you, the subtle growl and fleeting glimpse of glowing blue in the corner of your eye making the hair on the back of your neck stand up

Like a small lamb you wander through the large house knowing that hes right there, stalking in the shadows, hunting you

The only light is at the very ends of one of the halls, where you know the master bath is. With trepidation you walk towards the bathroom, knowing that's probably where he's going to absolutely jump your bones, you can't help the arousal that pools

Another thing that alerts you being the growl you hear behind you

When you finally get to the bathroom you decide to play his game- stripping off your clothes slowly- temptingly as his eyes burn across you before you sink into the water and swim to the center of his large bath (real basically a swimming pool)

You don't even hear him get in, but the second you turn back around expecting him to be at the water's edge- he's inches away from you, predatory eyes staring down at you as if to let you know he's won

The lights go off and all you can see is the glow of his eyes as you swim away slowly while he drops towards you until the cold hard tiles press into your back while you sit on the built in ledge, he rises cageing you between his arms as his long silvery hair falls disheveled down his back and cascades over his tense shoulders like a waterfall, he glows more and more and water drops hit your face, the blue streaks that cover the underside of his hair give off a faint glow, then the scales along his body, the long dark blue tail that you now see is also slightly alight. You dare to travel your eyes away from his, away from his hands- his claws that grip and cut into the tile slightly, down his chest and below his waist to the glow that sits just below the water

His tail wraps around your legs nudging them apart

“Look at me my beloved”

His tone is soft but there's a edge to it that has you snapping to attention, for once your eyes are blown wide as saucers and his are narrow slits like needles

Then you feel it, the rub of his thick tail that has your legs spreading to accommodate it while it grinds against you getting you worked up and just as desperate as he is

Ride this mans tail he will be put under a trance

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[goldenstring6123]

hello ! wanted to say i really love your writing style and your stories for the characters ! I wanted to know if you’d write one for Love and deep space Sylus? A scenario where you’re both sleeping but you sneak away quietly to get something from the kitchen or for whatever reason but he stops you with his powers (the handcuffs etc) to bring you back to bed. I’m not sure if i’m making sense but something along those lines! please and thank you!

Sylus: Kitchen Sneaker

Warning: No warning. Fem!reader, domestic fluff (?)

Author's note: This is a fun domestic-ish prompt to write! I hope you like it my dear pookies <3

masterlist | Buy me a thread? |

Sylus was fast asleep beside you.

The man was a light sleeper for the sake of his own safety. According to him, even if the building was as secure as it could be, there were some instances where he woke up with a knife to his throat. However, ever since you began sharing the same bed, he had been sleeping like a log, which was good for him and the twins because they no longer had to deal with his hot head so early in the evening.

But it was bad for you. Simply because Sylus likes to hold you in his sleep. Sometimes his hand would be over your chest, groping your breast or squeezing in between your boobs, but most times, he would be holding your wrist, checking your pulse. How was this bad for you? Well, living alone for most of your adult life, you liked to indulge yourself in a midnight snack or two. With him holding you captive to the bed, his iron grip holding on to you, it was like you had a ball and chain around your body.

You've indulged Sylus for over a week now, but the intense midnight craving is overwhelming.

Tonight, it's food over Sylus. The man can wait. Food cannot.

You scooted his hand very, very, very gently away from your body. This man's hand is heavy and large. Sylus didn't move and continued to sleep peacefully, his exposed chest rising and falling calmly. The room was very cold, and you could even hear the blowing of the AC; it was at that moment that you realized how such small sounds seemed to be so loud at night.

With every step you take, you are holding your breath even more. Even against the carpet, the rustling of your feet seemed like it could stir Sylus awake at any second. Thankfully, you managed to traverse across the room like a spy. You even had to carefully close the door shut.

You used the stairs to get down to the kitchen, and while you were walking in the hallway, the chef was just about to leave, his satchel bag on his shoulder.

He and you made eye contact. You gestured to him to 'shush,' and he laughed.

"There's some leftover dessert and pasta in the fridge—feel free to eat it," he whispered, and you grinned, giving him a thumbs up. Greg is the best chef ever. You tiptoed to the kitchen, waving him goodbye. Your eyes landed on that double-door fridge that was whirring loudly.

Finally! You could taste that delicious panna cotta and aglio olio in your mouth. Your hands wrapped around the handle of the fridge, and as you tugged, the bright blue light of the fridge lit up your face.

You took the plate and settled it on the stainless steel counter. The next one was the small glass filled with chocolate and cream. You marveled at its delicate, savory look. You took a spoon from the nearby utensil holder and dug it into the soft texture, eager to get a taste.

Before it could land between your lips—

A cold whirlwind of black, scentless smoke wrapped around the fork. It flung out of your grasp, and before you could let out a peep, you, too, were flung away from the kitchen counter.

The man let out a grunt, his eyes low-lidded and foggy, clearly just woken up from his slumber.

"Pray tell," he gruffed, his voice an octave lower. "What are you doing in the kitchen? You're supposed to be in bed." Sylus let out a sigh while he brought you closer to him. He glanced behind you and saw the unopened plate of pasta and panna cotta.

"Never mind. You don't need to speak."

"I'm hungry! Don't you know you shouldn't get between a woman and her food?" you exclaimed while tugging at the thing around your exposed waist. You thrashed and thrashed, the straps of your nightshirt sliding down your shoulders. "Put me down and go back to bed! I'll be with you in five—no, fifteen minutes!"

His head was aching from all the noise you were making, and combined with the fact that you were out of bed by the time he woke up—to Sylus, it seemed like you were testing his patience. "Did you not eat enough during dinner time? You know you could've asked for second servings."

"I get midnight cravings on occasion, but when I'm sleeping over, you tend to weigh me down in bed," you explained, flailing your legs, which were a few feet off the ground.

"So, you're blaming me now?" Sylus raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. Of course, you were. It wasn't your fault you couldn't get out of bed, and it wasn't your fault that the chef made great food and desserts. He didn't like the look on your face but, regardless, put you down to the floor, his hand tugging your strap over your shoulders. His red eyes glazed over your bare chest, but he turned away, walking to that lonely plate of pasta.

"We're going back to sleep after you have your fill." Sylus unwrapped the plate and took a fork, twirling it and taking a bite. The oily, mild tinge of spiciness and Parmesan helped push him awake. He won't deny that the chef was good at his job—it was even enough for you to sneak out of his bed.

You mounted yourself onto the kitchen island, the cold marble surface cooling the bottom of your thigh. You took the panna cotta, and finally, the creamy and sweet flavor of chocolate and cream exploded in your mouth. Unconsciously, you nodded in approval of the taste.

Quietly, you ate in each other's company, occasionally making small talk. Sylus left the dish in the sink along with the fork, but when he turned to you, your nose was inside the refrigerator again. "Cake roll slice…" you uttered. The strawberry cake roll looked delicious inside the glass container.

Before you could even reach out to it, the smoke appeared at the very same spot, dragging you away from the fridge. Sylus closed the double-door refrigerator and crossed his arms right in front of you. A clear 'no' was plastered all over his face.

You let out a groan as he dragged you away with the smoky black and red rope around your waist.

When you got back to the bedroom, you expected Sylus to go right back to sleep. But instead, the man pulled a handcuff from underneath his pillow. How and why it was, there was a question you didn't want to ask him. Without another word coming out of his mouth, he chained it to himself and took hold of your wrist.

"No. You're not going to—"

He latched the real handcuff around your wrists and laid down on the bed, dragging you with him.

"Sleep."

The lights dimmed and flickered off at his word, and you just lay there, staring up at the canopy.

"I guess this is our bedtime routine now," you sighed.

"Sleep," he reiterated.

You seriously have no idea how you put up with this man.

Author footnotes: I also like to sneak out to the kitchen and eat but instead of sylus, It's my mom who sees me and then i get the clothes hanger beat up for staying up late at night lol.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: You tend to Alastor's wounds after the fight with Adam. The weight of almost losing him nearly breaks you.

☒ Warnings: gn!reader, hurt / comfort, implied established relationship, descriptions of injuries and stitching them up, mentions of anxiety, the reader cries a bit, comforting!alastor, and also soft!alastor, one kiss, non-sexual undressing, soft touches

☒ Word Count: 1,010

All you could think of the moment the battle ended was Alastor.

The last you saw of him, he was going head-to-head with Adam. But witnessing Nifty stab the lowly man made you worry something terrible happened to Alastor.

The moment you had a second to breathe, you rushed toward the Radio Demon's tower. A trail of blood leading toward his sanctuary sent a wave of fear down your spine. Your steps quickened at the sight, and all the worst-case scenarios flooded your mind. 

When you swung the door open, the view of Alastor blanketed your body with a cold sweat in the weight of a moment. He was doubled over the control panel, ears pinned flat to his head as the crackle in his voice echoed through the space with each breath he took. 

"Alastor!" You cried out, rushing over to his side in an instant. The sound of you calling his name caused his head to whip around. You wasted no time assessing his injuries, scanning your anxious gaze over his frame. 

"Worry not, my dear," Alastor coughed, blood spilling down the corner of his mouth. Your eyebrows knit in concern as you began raiding his radio tower, frantic to uncover a first aid kit. "Of course, I'm going to worry- you're bleeding all over the place!" You exclaimed, letting out a breath of relief as you found the emergency medical kit. 

Hastily, you began pushing Alastor's torn overcoat past his shoulders. The injured man simply gazed down at you, a weary smile decorating his visage. "Darling, I can handle this myself," Alastor clamored through gritted teeth, stopping your hands with his own before you could start unbuttoning his dress shirt. 

You shot your head up to meet his gaze, frustration evident on your face. "No, you can't! You need to let others help you when you need it! Stop trying to handle all these battles on your own. Please, Al," Your voice softened toward the end of your sentence. You didn't want to shout at him while he was wounded so badly, but Alastor's stubbornness got under your skin. Especially now. 

Alastor closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a shaky breath before releasing his grasp around your hands. "Alright, my darling... I won't stand in your way any further," His voice was barely above a whisper as he presented you with an apologetic look. You offered him a weak smile in return before undoing the buttons on his blood-soaked shirt. Peeling it off his frame with great gentleness. 

Your eyes widened in fear as you finally saw just how gnarly the gash across his torso really was. Your hands shook ever so slightly as you began threading the needle you uncovered in the first aid kit. "Tell me if it hurts too much, and we'll take a break." You expressed softly, eyes meeting his crimson ones. Alastor only nodded at you as he gritted his teeth harsher than before, bracing for impact. 

Alastor's grip on the edge of his desk tightened, leaving deep claw marks in his wake. You tried to make the stitching process as painless as possible, but there was only so much you could do. "I'm almost done, my love. You're doing so well," Alastor endured the grueling treatment, letting out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding as you finished patching him up. 

You generously applied ointment before wrapping gauze all the way around his frame. Alastor let out a hiss as the bandage came in contact with his gash. "I know, my love... just hold on a little longer for me," You snuggly secured the gauze before bringing your hands down. You grasped his hands. Clutching his large palms comfortingly as you beamed up at him. 

"There, now you're as good as new." You quipped, massaging the pads of your thumbs into the back of his palms. Alastor grinned wearily, his crimson eyes holding much adoration for you. "Thank you, my darling... I reckon I should apologize for being so uncompromising before," A slight chuckle escaped his lips as Alastor squeezed your hands right back.

You let a laugh of your own fill the room as you leaned in closer. "Ah, don't be... I'm just glad you're okay," Before you could catch up, your head came flush against his shoulder. The adrenaline finally wore off, leaving your body shaky and weak. Alastor didn't miss a beat. He gripped your hips to stabilize you instantly. "My dear, are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern, radio static crackling out ever so slightly.  

Tears began brimming in your eyes before you could stop them, and a lump formed in your throat. One that you couldn't seem to swallow down. "Sorry, I just..." A hiccup shook your body as your hands came up to his chest, being careful not to graze his injury. "If you would have died... I couldn't bear it!" 

Alastor felt his heart ache at your sorrowful cries. Your solemn words only added fuel to the fire. One of his hands unhurriedly came up to the back of your head, cradling your neck as Alastor cooed at you. "Oh, my dear," He allowed you to sob into his shoulder for as long as you needed, only releasing his grasp around your head when he heard your cries fizzle out. 

You slowly pushed yourself back against Alastor's chest, sniffling softly as you looked up at him. Before you could process it, Alastor captured your lips with his. Pouring all of his love into the chaste kiss. Your heart fluttered as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips. Your worries seemed to melt away from his embrace. Alastor was your everything, and the fact that you nearly lost him today scared the fuck out of you. 

Alastor pulled back unhurriedly, still keeping his face close to yours. He nuzzled his nose against your own before he whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, my darling. You're stuck with me for all of eternity. I expect you haven't forgotten that already!"

[giuliettagaltieri]

His Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Featherless birds fall with a splat

Warning: Angst, cursing

Word Count: 4532

Part 1 • Part 2

You aren’t exactly certain how you’d feel with Rafe walking out on you like that. 

Partly, you were glad that you somehow managed to face him without breaking but the way his eyes bore on you, it was just awful, like you were physically causing him pain.

And perhaps you were. 

JJ saw how your mood has switched after you got your drinks.  Your eyes were all blank and you were spacing out.  He made the decision for you both to head back and meet with your other friends. 

You are sitting with your girlfriends, and JJ decided to join you for the rest of the night.  He was entertaining everybody with his overly exaggerated wild stories, trying to get you to focus on him, but your eyes are wandering on a certain someone.

Rafe was gulping down beer, cup after cup.  It was too much, even for him.

You understand he’s got an extremely high alcohol tolerance but this is just sad to look at.  His face was all red and his shirt was clinging to his back, soaked with sweat.

“You know, I really thought I could finally catch your attention with Cameron all gone.”  JJ suddenly leans on the sofa next to you.  You sigh, giving a quick smile without looking at him.  “But I guess it was stupid of me to swoop in when you are literally in love with him.”

Pursing your lips together, you look away from Rafe to glance at the man beside you.  JJ was looking sullen but a trace of smirk is still on his lips, never really looking utterly hopeless.  Sometimes you wonder how he was able to master such a carefree façade. 

“I really had fun hanging out with you.”  You say sadly.  “You’re a good friend.”

He scrunches his face.  “Good friend.  Yeah.”

“JJ, come on.”  You laugh at his blatant display of dislike at being called a “friend” but he breaks into a smile.  “I really enjoyed being with you.  It’s just I don’t…It’s too soon and Rafe-”

“I know.”  He cuts you off, his eyes wandering to the man.  “He looks like shit.”  He mutters and you look over to see just in time Rafe doubling over, looking like he is seconds away from ruining the carpet.

Your back immediately leaves the sofa and you sit up straighter, ready to move whenever Rafe needs you.

“Y/N, he’s not a baby.  Let him take care of himself.”  JJ chuckles, making you bite your lip, still anxiously watching. 

Rafe looks like he’s about to collapse, he was clutching his head and grimacing in pain.  Soon enough, he was shoving people away and heading to the bathroom.

“I don’t know, J.  I haven’t seen him that drunk since…”  You squint at Rafe’ direction in the dark, trying to find a memory to match.  “I haven’t seen him that drunk.”

JJ’s brows slowly rise.  “Really?  Not even when his father found out he did drugs?”

You shake your head.  “No, not even then.”  You slowly rise from the couch and JJ lets you go. 

“Well, I suppose he can’t be left alone, can he?”  JJ smiles somberly and you return it apologetically, still thankful that he’s supporting you right now.

Your girlfriends however were not so keen on the idea.

“Y/N, where do you think you’re going?” 

“Ladies.”  JJ starts, throwing you a wink.  “Have I ever told you about that time we fought actual gators?”

You take your time, heading to the bathroom.  Your usual caregiver spirit when Rafe is in need has been dampened and you’re not sure she’s making a recovery soon.

The music gets muffled the deeper you go into the dark hallway.  The entire house is still buzzing from the music of course but you no longer feel like the speaker’s up your eardrums.  And with every step you take, the more you hear.  You are careful where you step, making sure your feet don’t step on any creaky floorboards.

You stand there, face to face with the bathroom door, hearing Rafe being absolutely wasted.  And is he crying?  You bite on your knuckle, brows meeting just a little as you try to listen.

Quietly, you twist the knob open.  He was retching, big arms hugging the tiny toilet, his head almost all the way in.  You stand there, watching his shoulders shake.  His sobs sounded almost hysterical, ripping from his throat.

What has happened to you, Rafe?

“Rafe?”  You gently call his name and he turns to you.  His hand absentmindedly tried to flush the contents of the toilet, missing it multiple times.  You watch him sag, his entire body sitting on his ankles as he looks up to you helplessly.

“Hey.”  He drawls.  “Wha... wha' are you doin' here?”  He asks casually in a coarse voice he got after barfing his guts out.  His heavy-lidded eyes look up at you, watching you hesitantly walk towards him.  “Shouldn’t be here.”  He shakes his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Rafe.”  You say his name so gently, he closes his eyes.  He’d pay just to hear you say his name again and again.  “Are you alright?”  You ask and he looks up at you dumbly, mouth slightly parted before nodding slowly.

“Yes.”

You fish out your own handkerchief and run the tap over it, just enough to dampen the fabric.  “You don’t look like you’re alright.”  You smile, a hint of teasing on your voice and he scoffs.

“Why ask when you don’…don’t believe me anyway?”  He gestured stupidly with his hand and he stills when you grab the said hand.  He looks up at you as you wipe the sick off his arm.

“You drank too much.”  You mumble as you start to step closer to him, your hand cupping his cheek to wipe at the corner of his lips.

“No, shit.”  He wanted to say but the words are stuck on his throat as he just stared at you, taking care of him, touching him, just looking at him again.  He drops his hands and his limp fingers rest on the cold bathroom floor.  He is feeling too much, how your ankles brush on his thighs, the warmth of your fingers, and the soft dampness of the fabric gliding on his chin.

Have you always been like this to him?

Rafe wonders if he just sat still while you tended to him before, would he have this sight of you all those times.  Was he so stupid he missed all opportunities to look at you like this?

“Come back.”

You pause.  “What?”

He shakes his head before looking at the pinstriped polo you are wearing.  His brows creased, teeth clenching in annoyance as he pinched the fabric.  “This…this is mine.  You’re wearin’ MY clothes while you’re kissin’ other guys!”  He fumes, hands clumsily tugging at your clothes that your knees almost buckle, your hand finding purchase on his shoulder so as to not fall.  “That’s fucking un…unacceptable!  You like ME!  You can’t go ‘round kissin’ other guys when y’ like me!”  He suddenly yells and your eye twitches.

Your finger jabs at his chest.  “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s glassy eyes widen as his breath gets caught in his throat.  Did you just…did you just curse at him?

“Fuck you, Rafe!”  You repeat in annoyance.  Blood boiling within seconds as you angrily run a hand on your hair, scoffing at the sheer audacity of this man to say those things to you. 

You glare at him again and he actually flinches.  “Don’t tell me what to do.  You have no right to decide for me.”  You angrily strip off the pinstriped polo, his head following your wild motion before you crumple it in a ball.  “This is your polo?”  You raise it and he nods hesitantly, still in shock at your outburst.  “Here!”  You throw it at his face and you watch it cover his head, his hands are sluggish as he slowly pulls it off. 

You’re heaving in frustration both hands on your hips as you look at his crestfallen face, bunching the fabric in his large hands.

“Then I can go kiss other guys now, huh?”  You say out of anger and you watch his shoulders sag as he brings his hands to the floor again, fingers twisting the fabric.

He looked absolutely wrecked and your heart starts to feel heavy again.  You cross your arms, leaning on the wall as you watch him stare at the floor.

“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to kiss other guys?  You made it clear that you don’t like me.”  His head shoots up when you say that.  “I’m not waiting for you forever.”

Rafe presses the heel of his palms against his eyes before he looks at you in agony, face all red, his bottom lip jutting out just the slightest.

“Y/N, please.”  He moves to you, still on his knees as he loosely wraps an arm around your thighs.  You looked up at the ceiling when he stared up to you desperately.  “’m sorry, please.  Don’t leave me ‘gain, please.”

You attempt to push him off but he hugs your thighs tighter, his head pressing on your stomach.  “Rafe, let go!”

“No!”  He sobbed, his shoulders shaking.  “You’re mine!  You like me! Not sharing you with that…that fucking pogue-”

“Rafe!”

He flinches again but he doesn’t respond, only hugging you impossibly tight.

“You have to let me go.”  You say more calmly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. 

He shakes his head against your stomach.  You lean further against the wall, trusting it to hold you up as you surrender, sighing out your frustration as you rub his back, letting him cry on your stomach.

Perhaps JJ was wrong, about Rafe not being a baby.  You truly feel like you are calming down an overgrown toddler.  A toddler that fed on steroids instead of milk.  His arms are tightly wrapped around you, just allowing you to breathe and aside from that, you can’t do anything else.  Your free hand that didn’t get caught in his trapping hold, tried to soothe him, trying to tell him that you’re there, with him.

You run your fingers through his buzzed hair, feeling the heat and sweat cling on your fingers.

“You’re a mess.”  You mumble, a small smile playing on your lips when his shoulders eventually start to stop shaking.  “You got snot all over my belly, ugh.”

Rafe loosens his arms around you and wipes his nose, his eyes glaring at you for a moment.  You smile at him smugly as he gathers himself.  He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, eyes kept on the polo that he crumpled on his hand like a ball.

“Wanna wash your face?”  You giggle.

He glares at you again but actually does what you told him to and takes the mouthwash you casually hands him.  You nudge him with your shoulder to get him to scoot over so you can wash your handkerchief.  Rafe watches your hands get under the faucet, just calmly watching the water glide over your skin, delicate fingers wringing the fabric that you so gently wiped on his face a while ago.

“’m sorry.”  He slurred as he watched you tidying up.  “Was so stupid.  Sayin’ things that I don’t mean.”  He continues, eyes starting to get desperate as you just rifle through your bag, not even looking at him.  “Sorry for causing you trouble all the time.”  He follows you like a puppy when you move past him to head to the door.  “Please, don’t leave me again.”

You grip the doorknob tightly before it loosens in defeat.  Rafe’s eyes brighten up when you turn to look at him.

“Why do you boys suddenly become the most honest people when you’re drunk?”  You ask exasperatedly, also remembering JJ’s confession on the porch.  “But then again, you could just be spouting nonsense.”  You open the door this time but he puts a hand against it to close it again.

“I’m not.  Please!”  Rafe almost begs, his entire frame caging you against the door, his respect for personal space long forgotten as there’s nothing else in his head but to try and get you to understand, to believe.  His tongue is heavy and his head is murky due to intoxication, which made him all the more frustrated.

You press your lips together, startled eyes boring into him.  You have known that Rafe has an extreme and overwhelming side to him, his entire presence just smothering you in the best ways you can imagine.  But with you trying to hold on to the fragile thread of anger and stability, you decide to push him by his chest.  “Why don’t we uh…grab coffee?  Let you sober up?”

He runs a hand on his face, it’s becoming a habit of his when he’s around you.  “Fine.  But don’t disregard everything I said just because I’m ‘drunk’.  Please.”  He said the last word with emphasis, his eyes offering no bargaining, prompting you to nod.

“Alright.”

Rafe looks into your eyes for a couple more seconds, making you understand that he is not willing to accept a half-assed response and you need to take him seriously.  He slowly backs up, hands shoving into his pockets while you tongue your cheek, hesitantly opening the door for the both of you.

The blasting music thrums in your ear the deeper you get into the party, maneuvering your way in the sea of hormonal teens.  A hand wraps on your wrist and you stop to look who it was.

It was JJ, heaving.  He probably ran the moment he saw you.  “Hold on, you’re leaving?” 

Rafe was quick to pull your hand away from JJ’s hold, immediately squaring up.  His chin was titled in a challenge as he eyed the flowers and bows decorating the band-aid on JJ’s chin.

“Rafe, please.”  You beg, arms circling on his bicep to stop him from doing anything to JJ, who didn’t look the least bit afraid.  In fact, he was looking at Rafe in pure entertainment.  “JJ, I’m sorry.  I’ll just talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“No, you won’t!”  Rafe seethes but you only roll your eyes at him. 

Kissing his teeth, JJ nods.  “Yeah, sure.  Let me know if you need anything.”  He eyes Rafe one more time and smiles at you in his usual relaxed manner.  “I’ll tell your friends you left early.”

When you finally made it out of the crammed up beach house, you closed your eyes at the nipping sea breeze.  You can’t believe you’re leaving the party with the person you have been trying to avoid for weeks.

“Keys.”  You mutter and Rafe hastily digs through his pocket, his hooded eyes blinking as he tries to locate his keys.

Your deadpanned eyes watch him for a few more seconds before he finally passes it to you, along with the pinstriped polo, which you hesitantly take.

He felt weird, having to take the passenger seat, especially when it’s you with him.  Rafe gets in the car, his eyes on you the entire time you drive.  You’re not exactly acknowledging his presence in the car with you, despite his entire body twisted to face you, his head that is leaning back on the chair never turned to any direction but yours.  He didn’t even know you arrived until you were taking off your seatbelt.

Rafe follows you quickly, nearly tripping on his way out.  But he plays it cool, pulling his shirt down when it rode up.  He meets your eyes briefly in embarrassment.  This entire experience is ruining alcohol for him.

Even thinking about the mess he made in the bathroom, with you witnessing, made him want to smash every bottle that will ever grace his eyes again.  That shit’s evil.  Rafe blinks at the brightly lit convenience store, not yet able to process the colors of the different flavors of ramen and chips.  He closes his eyes tightly, nearly driven to overstimulation and seeks out a chair, collapsing on it as he attempts to massage away the bounding pulse on his temple.

He feels you place a hand on his shoulder and the scent of coffee fills his lungs.  Rafe looks at you briefly and the swirling liquid placed in front of him.  You sat yourself on the chair opposite his and your glossed lips wrap on a straw, sipping on your tall cup of slushie.

After muttering a quick thanks, Rafe picks up the coffee, tentatively blowing on it and watching the steam blow off in your direction before taking a sip.

Your cheeks heat up at the groan he lets out when he takes more sips.  His shoulders are slightly hunched and you quietly admire his physique as you continuously slurp, watching his intoxication being masked by caffeine with every gulp he takes. 

Realizing that you’re staring, your eyes slowly shift outside the glass, cheeks all warmed up.  Rafe sets down his coffee and just takes his time to look at you.  He does not know if it’s still the lingering effects of alcohol in his blood or the overly bright lighting in this rundown convenience store, but you look like you’re glowing.

“Y/N.”  He attempts to speak but you shake your head.

“Give it time, please. Coffee doesn’t magically cure intoxication, you know.”  You smile softly to reassure him.

Rafe smiles back before taking another sip.  He watches you turn to the road outside again.  There you were, in front of him again after weeks of not seeing each other, just sipping on sugar and ice as you swung your feet that were clad in babydoll heels, with pretty straps that he always found cute and alluring.  Despite the cozy choice of clothing, you never go without a statement piece.  

He steals another glance at your clothes, along with the pinstriped polo you decided to wear again.  He takes another sip of coffee.  “It looks better on you.”

You look down on your clothes, lips pressing together before giving him a curt smile.  “…Thanks.”

“Sure.”  He nods.  Both of you look at each other for a while, not quite certain what to do with the still tense atmosphere before simultaneously looking away, like a couple for teenager going on a first date, it’s fucking ridiculous.

Time passed with not a single word being uttered between you.  Rafe watches how the coffee stained a line on the cup every time he takes a sip, the liquid now cooled, and your slushie cup was starting to sweat and leave trails of water everytime you move it.  His eyes were starting to focus again and once he was confident in being able to speak without slurring, he cleared his throat to garner your attention.

“Listen.”  He begins but the words lodge themselves in his throat the moment your curious eyes flit to him, perhaps this was a bad idea.  He never knew what to say.  Rafe doesn’t know if he can last one conversation without offending you somehow.  “I know I hurt you.  And I know it wasn’t just that time at the party.”  He presses a knuckle on his lips to gather his thoughts.  “I always take you for granted, when all you ever did was take care of me.”

You cross your arms in an attempt to make yourself feel protected as you lean back, eyes avoiding him.

“Your kindness and efforts.  Your…feelings.  They were so easy to overlook when you gave them to me every single day without fail.”  He tries to reach out to you but stops midway and drops his hands on the table.  “I never knew what I had until you decided to take everything away.”

Your eyes sharpen and he winces at his careless mistake.

“I mean, until I finally succeeded in pushing you away.”  He reworded his sentence, making sure to pin the blame on himself instead of you.  He hated how hurt he made you feel.  He felt like shit.  He never cared when people called him an asshole or a psycho, but after what he did to you, he felt like every label given to him was all real, and this time, it hurt.

He had girls before, and all the wanting he can associate with them is the feeling of fleeting euphoria when they’re under him, that is all.  Rafe never missed anyone, or anything about anyone.  Until you came along.

Rafe found himself in the middle of the night, missing you calling him by his name.  He missed your smile and scent.  His cheeks suddenly go wild red when he remembers the mess he made out of himself when he got your shirt, one you accidentally left in his room, up his nose during those nights when the longing just beats him up.

“I regret everything I said and done.”  He says, trying to get back on track to apologizing.  “And if you want to be my…friend again…”  He takes a deep sigh.  “I’ll do better.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes shyly meeting his, and you uncross your arms slowly.

“You promise?”

Rafe nods quickly, a small smile appearing on his lips as his hand darts out to hold yours.  “Yes, I promise!  Just don’t shut me out again.”

Gently, you shift your hand to wrap around his and he gladly holds yours back securely.

“I’ll try to be less…controlling too.”  You look away.  “I won’t bother you as much and I won’t cling to you in parties or wherever-”

“I thought we’re okay already?”  Rafe was dumbfounded.

“We are.”  You say, equal confusion in your eyes.

“Then why are you still staying away from me after this?”  He asks in frustration.

Your lips part, trying to form words but his statement just muddles everything up.

“I…I just didn’t want you to get fed up again.”  You say quietly and he grabs both your hands this time, pulling them to his chest.

“Baby, I don’t care, just come back to me, alright?”  He says quickly, you don’t think he realized what he called you just now.  “I don’t care if you call me six times a day to argue that raisins do not belong in bread or if you hold my hand in every party we go to.”

The heat in your cheeks slowly travels to your neck.  “Rafe.”

“You can have me drive you around the island when you get hungry at three in the morning.”  He beams in a surge of confidence and affection.  “I’ll let you fix my clothes as it pleases you so much, slap as many hello kitty bandaids on my face as you want.”  He laughs, making you smile too.  “I-I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, just please let’s go back to how we were before, yeah?”  He presses a kiss on your knuckles.  “I don’t want to hear any of this plan you have.  I just want you with me again.”

At this point, there really is nothing you can say and you can only nod.  You are glad that Rafe is satisfied with that response.

After a few more minutes of you catching your breath in silence, you decide to call it a night.  Rafe, now sobered up, decided to drive, and let you enjoy the passenger seat like you always do.

Despite the conversation you had in the convenience store, both of you can’t shake off the feeling that you’re forgetting something.  Like there is something you are purposefully holding back from each other, and it visibly makes you antsy, Rafe more than you.

He taps his finger on the wheel, tugging at the seatbelt every now and then as you continuously shift your eyes from the road and back to the car interior.

When he finally pulls over in front of your gate, neither of you want to move, still waiting for that something to happen.  But as another moment passes, you realize that perhaps it’s time to leave it here for now, to take things slowly, see where it takes you.  But he isn’t sure if he wants that, to see you slip away again, like the finest sand between his fingers.

“Uhm…thanks for the ride.”  You make a move to open the door but Rafe was quick to lock it, making your brows meet in a soft frown.  “Rafe-”

He cuts you off by clumsily pulling his seatbelt off, cupping both your cheeks to smash his lips on yours.  It wasn’t careful nor romantic, just pure unadulterated need and impulse.  You can feel the tremble in each other’s lips, the fear that one of you might pull away, the fear of what comes next, the fear of not having the other’s love returned in the same intensity.

But as your breath mixes, your tears soaking each other’s cheeks, your body slowly melts into each other’s arms.  He was desperate, biting and sucking your lips, everything in his kiss wanted to possess you, making your chest tighten in having everything you ever desired at this moment.

Rafe pulls away abruptly, a thin line of spit still connecting your lips when he looks deep into your eyes.  “Tell me you still love me.”  He begs while he cradles your face.

“Rafe.”  You push him away gently but he presses his forehead against yours, his shoulders shaking. 

“Tell me, please.”  He squeezed his eyes, not knowing what response he would be receiving.  He knows he’d die if you reject him, with his soul open and bared to you in its most vulnerable form.

His eyes slowly open when he feels a soft caress on his arm and you’re smiling at him with your tears cascading down your face.

“I love you.”

It felt like Rafe had winter melting in the palm of his hand, giving birth to spring.  Whatever doubt and fear is replaced with nothing else but sweet sweet warmth.  He is being shrouded with undeniable assurance that made him feel invulnerable yet ironically, impossibly vulnerable.  He had nothing moments ago, and suddenly he got a taste of everything, all at once.  He has you.  Just as you have him.

He laughs and kisses you breathlessly.  “God, Y/N, I love you.  I love you, I love you.”  He litters your face with wet kisses, making you laugh, before he kisses your lips once more, his teeth nibbling on your kiss-swollen lip.  “Mmmh, did you get a new lip balm?”

You gently pry his hands from your face as you continue to laugh.  He meets your eyes with sheer adoration, head still trying to wrap around the fact that you are his girl.  His girl.  His girl.

God, he’d gladly die if you told him to, just to prove his dedication. 

“I love you.”  He whispers gently, intimately, vulnerably.

And with equal passion, you reply, “I love you too.”

Rafe has never felt this kind of happiness in his life, not once.  You are his natural high, the ecstasy he’s been chasing.  And now that he has you in his arms, he’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you there with him.

Not Your Girl • Not Her Man

[satorusugurugurl]

Hiii :33 i literally read all ur works in one sitting omg ur amazing pookieee AND IT GOT ME THINKING-

What if reader and the JJK men had their bodies switched due to a curse??? Like- For example- Nanami Kentos body but readers mind/conscious and stuff like ykwim??? (same with readers body) Also i love how u write sukuna its so BEIFNSKFHKDD ARF👹👹 if u could add some smut and crack in it too pls🥹 tyty

(W/ nanamin toji sukuna n geto pls) ☺️☺️😚😚

JJK Men: Body Swap!!

Summary: Body swapping with your boyfriend? What could go wrong? 😃

Pairing: Fushiguro Toji, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Sorcerer AU), Geto Suguru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: smut, a little crack, body swapping, creampies, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms

Word Count: 7,174

A/N: Hi Pookie!! hajsjjdjdthank-you so so much! I lo ove too! Modern Sukuna is one of my favorite boys to write for! I love him so much. (even though I know its OOC). Anyways thanks for being so patient with me. this last month has been insanely busy and I'm just now finding my creativity again!

Fushiguro Toji:

It was supposed to be a simple mission to take out a sorcerer. What you both didn’t know was that this sorcerer had a lot of curses to spirits protecting them. So when you both took him out, one of the spirits attacked you. And you weren't sure what happened. One second, you were standing back to back with your boyfriend. The next second, you were lying flat on your back, staring up at the sky.

While your head was spinning and you felt sick to your stomach, that meant you were alive and well, which was a success in your books. Sitting up, you grumbled out a groan as you blinked several spots away.

“Son of a fuckin’ bitch.” You said, but it wasn't you that said it? When your vision finally cleared, your eyes widened as you stared down at yourself. “I’m telling Shiu we need double the pay for that shit.” A string of vulgar words escaped your lips as you watched your body sit up.

“T-Toji?” You asked, finding your voice several octaves lower.

“Yeah, you good?” your head turned towards you, and that’s when your boyfriend finally seemed to notice something was wrong. Toji, I’ve been told you you were never good at hiding your facial reactions, and seeing a pure panic that crossed your features let you know he was right. “Oh, what the fuck?!”

“I-It’s me! I-I just—uhm—what the fuck happened?!”

After thoroughly researching the files you both refused to read, you discovered that this was one of the side effects of one of the curses you had taken out. It allowed the souls of its victims to switch with each other. The technique was only meant to last a few hours to a few days, which was a blessing, but your boyfriend didn’t seem to see it that way.

Although you both insisted that you could handle a few more jobs, Shiu couldn’t stand the way you were smiling sweetly at him with Toji’s face, and your face was glaring daggers at him from the rearview mirror. So he did the only logical thing he could think of. You were taking your asses back home until this side effect wore off.

Which was something you found yourself longing for. Because you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle being in the small confining space of the apartment with your boyfriend who is currently stuck in your body. You were trying to preoccupy your time, attempting to fix dinner with Toji’s sausage fingers, when you could hear your voice and make the most pitiful sounds in the living room.

“My fucking back hurts!” Toji yelled out, stretching his back out.

“Yeah?” you asked, “I told you I wasn’t fucking joking with you. Having breasts can weigh you down sometimes. Why the fuck do you think I ask for a back massage all the time?”

“Because you want my dick.”

“Hardy har asshole, now you know when I ask for a massage and being serious seventy-five percent of the time.”

You tried to focus on cutting onions but found it extremely difficult with the wines emanating from the living room. “Oww, babe, come give me a back massage. Your beautiful tits that I love are causing me immense pain.” Ignore him, you told yourself as you went back to cutting onions. If you just ignored his whining, everything would be okay. “Babe!” Your voice at you from across the apartment. “Baby!” Your fingers tightened around the handle of the knife you were holding, fighting the urge to use your newfound strength not to throw it at yourself. For just a moment, the tiniest millisecond, you thought maybe he had given up on calling you forward, allowing you to go back to cooking until you heard yourself cry out a wine that would make any toddler turn their head towards you.

“Oh my god!” You snapped, tossing the knife into the sink. “What?! What do you want me to do for you, Your Highness?!”

“Rub my back,” Toji grumbled as he shoved your face into the couch. “It hurts, and I know how good I am with my hands.”

With a sigh, you plopped down on the ground behind your body, using your boyfriend's hands to rub circles at the knots always in your back gently. Almost instantly, Toji let out a moan that was porn worthy. You could see him sink further into the couch; your fingers dug into the cushions as you continued to use Toji’s thumbs to rub circles into the sore muscles. Toji continued to whimper, squirming under your touch, pressing your thighs together as you worked your hands lower and lower.

And while it seemed like he was finding some relief in your touch, you found his pants a little too tight for comfort sounds that were resonating from your mouth.

“Fuuuck, that feels so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, babe, Fuuck.”

The sound of your moans seems to affect your boyfriend’s body. Allowing you to move on impulse, allowing his body to take the lead. “I bet I can make you feel better.” You whisper against the nape of your neck, relishing how your boyfriend recoiled back.

“Oh yeah~? And how do you plan on making me feel even better?”

Your way was fast and hard, much like the way Toji always gave it to you. You wasted no time, ripping your clothes off of your own body, slamming your lips against the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as his hands reached around, groping your breasts, just the way you liked it. Despite being in different bodies, neither of you were at all clumsy. As soon as you started ripping your clothes off, he told you he was tugging his shirt off his own body, turning to face, allowing you to pin him below you.

The kisses you shared were messy teeth clashing against each other as you both worked at your bottoms. Toji pulled your shorts and your underwear to the side. While you yanked his cock out of his sweats. Even though you were in different bodies, sex wasn’t any different. Toji just needed to feel you against him despite being inside your body, and the same for you.

You spit into your hand, rubbing it over your boyfriend's cock before you press it against your entrance. Never once did you break that kiss, the kiss that was full of raw need as if you both were high on an aphrodisiac when, in reality, you were high off of each other. Toji moaned against your lips as you pushed yourself inside of the tight, wet heat. Your breathing hitched at the strange new sensations washing over both of you.

“Oh my fuck,” you grumbled, pressing your lips against Toji’s. “I-It’s so tight and wet, oh, fuck.”

Toji wanted to laugh to make some crude comment about making sure you didn’t come too fast, but that was hard when he was being split open by his cock. “I-I feel s-so full.” He whispered nearly breathlessly against your lips.

“Does it hurt? Do you need a second?”

“No, I’m okay. Keep going, it feels good.”

Not needing to be told twice, you found yourself pulling out slowly before pushing back inside of your tight, wet walls. You both cried out, your head falling forward while Toji arched his back off the ground. You aren’t sure how long you could last like this. Hell, you weren’t even sure how Toji lasted as long as he did when he was inside of you. The man who was like a crazed sex god going for hours upon hours. While your boyfriend was wondering how the fuck you were able to take his cock like this every other night.

The pace you both set was messy and entirely out of rhythm. But despite not having any rhythm you were used to, it didn’t mean it didn’t feel good. Being able to lose control and lose yourself in the passion and sensations of just feeling good was hot. It was so hot that it had you both biting and sucking and clawing at each other. Your fingers dug into your hips while his nails scratched down your back as you both lost yourselves in the sensation of being with each other in a way you had never experienced before.

Being with each other in such a raw, more personal way allows you both, in a sense, to know how it feels for the other to know what to do, how to kiss, how to touch, and how to move against each other. This might come in handy for future sexual sessions for you. You knew that when you dug his nails into your upper back, your body trembled with pleasure. And Toji realized that when you angle your hips, a sure way to brush over your g-spot and cervix made your walls clench down so hard. He was afraid he was going to squirt all over you. Neither of you had ever expected it to happen, but both of you were excited that it had. Even if it meant neither of you was going to last very long.

“Oph fuck!” Toji cried out in your voice, his back arching. “B-Baby, I feel weird, like I need to pee!” Your boyfriend stared up at his face, which smirked sinisterly down at him.

“Yeah~? You gonna cum on my cock?” You asked, your voice deep and ragged. “Be good and cum for me.” You growled against his neck, smirking as you released your grip on his hip, rubbing circles over the swollen, sensitive clit.

“Ah! Fuck! Oooh fuck yes, gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, Toji~ come on!”

Toji screamed as he came so hard he squirted all over you, his legs shaking with the aftershocks of his orgasm. As he screamed and squirmed underneath you, you lost yourself in the way your walls tightened around your boyfriend‘s cock. Hugging him, milking him, trying to get him to come inside. Which, fortunately, was far too easy to do. You collapsed forward, fingers digging into your hips so hard you were pretty sure you were going to leave bruises much, much darker than your boyfriend ever left on you. It was just too much, tightening the screaming, the pleasure. There was no way you could’ve stopped yourself.

“C-Cumming! Ooh fuck!”

“Yeah~! Give it to me!”

You thrust fast and hard, pumping your pussy full of your boyfriend's cum. Not stopping until the head of his cock was oversensitive, and you weren’t sure if you could hold yourself up any longer. You grumbled, somehow collapsing onto your side as your boyfriend giggled, curling up against you.

“Fuck, I understand why you don’t like pulling out now.”

Toji, your nails down his chest. “Yeah, it feels really good, doesn’t it?” You hummed, wrapping your boyfriend's arms around your more petite frame, not entirely used to the size difference. “God, I gotta give it to ya’ you take my dick like a fucking champ. Don’t know how you do it.”

You smirked, pressing a quick kiss against his forehead. “I’m lucky enough to have a boyfriend to make sure I’m more than ready for his monster of a cock.” He snickered, pulling back to look at me. “And I know I already failed at foreplay, but I couldn’t help myself when you’re making such pretty sounds. I needed to hear more.”

“Yeah, remember that the next time you bitch that I don’t prep you enough after giving you a massage.”

“Toji, I fully understand what you mean, and it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

“Good, now— are you ready for round two?”

“Round two? Already?”

Toji swang your body over his hips, rocking gently over your oversensitive cock. “Oh yeah, I thought you were fucking with me, but your sex drive is insatiable; hurry up, I’m ready to go.” Maybe this whole body swap thing did have its downsides.

Nanami Kento:

It took five seconds for Nanami to turn away from the curse you were fighting. The curse shot out a green goop that coated you and Nanami in that span. It took five more seconds for your husband to act, blinking away the goop before jumping back into action. It was only when he went to swing his blunt blade that he realized something was wrong. Instead of swinging his typical weapon, he tossed a talisman paper instead.

In that momentary confusion, you and Kento took out the curse before looking at each other. Imagine his surprise when he didn’t find your pretty face looking up at him but his own, looking down at him. The initial shock turned into panic as he watched a look of pure terror and confusion cross his face.

“My love, it’s all right.” The calm manner of speaking sounded so strange coming out of your mouth. “We have to remain calm.”

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Nanami sighed, running a hand down your face. “What are we gonna do? This is terrible.”

Your husband wasn’t sure if you consider this terrible. Both of you were safe, so that’s all that truly mattered. However, he also found himself strangely intrigued by the predicament. He found yourself then. Seeing the expressions on his face, the cute little corpse you had, like picking at your nails, nipping up your bottom, lip, or weighing, looked strange to him, but it also left him longing to see what other reactions he could drop out from you.

Unaware of your husband’s intentions, you try to remain calm. You continued gently rubbing your hands together as Shoko and Nanami looked over your body he was in.

“Any pain or discomfort?” You watched in horny silence as Nanami moved your shoulder again.

“A little pain in my, well, my wife’s shoulder.”

“Let’s get that taken care of.”

You slipped your top over your head alone, you to see your body. The blue lace bra you wore was on display as Shoko's eyes flowed through her hands over your shoulder. Staring at your skin shouldn’t have any effect on you. It was your body. You had seen yourself naked one million times, but Nanami’s body reacted differently. Its bare skin and breasts had his pants feeling much too tight.

“How’s that?” Shoko asked as she stepped away, watching Nanami rotate your shoulder with a sigh of approval.

“Much better, thank you, Shoko.”

“And you?”

When Shoko turned her attention to you, your hands immediately went to cover your crotch. An action that seem to go unnoticed by your best friend but was clearly noticed by your husband. Nanami hummed cocking an eyebrow in your direction, his eyes focusing on his crotch, seeing how the fabric of his cream-colored suit pants with straining.

You cleared your throat, looking away, “I-I’m fine! Totally fine, just eager to get home and wait this out!” You wanted to get away from her and her praying eyes because how embarrassing would that be for you to be popping a boner in your boyfriend’s body at the sight of your tits?

“Alright, sounds good to me. If you need me, I’m just a call away; go home and rest.”

You have never been more happy to hear the words go home and get some rest in your entire life. You held your boyfriend’s hands in front of his crotch before taking his suit jacket to keep it over the prominent tent in his pants. This was perfect. You would be able to get home without anyone noticing. There, you could take a cold shower and sleep this off.

But your boyfriend had another plan.

Before you both could make it down the hall, Nanami grabbed your wrist, tugging you into one of the spare classrooms. “Kento?” You asked, the unsure tone of your husband’s voice sounded foreign. “What are you—nngh!” Your body jolted forward as he slipped his hand down, rubbing at the throbbing erection straining in his pants.

“Shh, let’s make this quick. I can’t have you walking around with an erection like some teenage boy.”

“W-Wait h-here?! If we get caught, that would be worse! At least I can hide a boner with your jacket!?”

At that moment, your husband was undoing the zipper of his pants, allowing you to see the hunger in your own eyes. It was a look that spoke volumes, and you suddenly realized why your husband had told you several times in the past to control your facial reactions. It was a look you only gave him when you were unbearably horny.

“Oh my god, that’s it. That’s the look you always talk about.”

“Mhm,”

“You’re horny?!”

Instead of answering your question with words, he took your hand and slowly slipped it under the waistband of your pants. There, you could feel the wet slick that you were familiar with. Not skipping a beat, your muscle memory kicked in as your fingers began to trace circles over your clit, knowing just how you like to be touched.

“I saw how hard you were and couldn’t help myself. Your body is screaming you need me. I’m so wet, and I’m throbbing; I need you.”

Hearing those words leave your mouth made you realize how your husband felt when he was in your position. When you talk like that in public, it is hard to control yourself at that moment. You had no clue how Nanami managed to do it because you lost your composure the second he opened his mouth.

You slammed your lips against his as you lifted him, pinning him against the wall, his hands worked at the button of his trousers while you slid your panties to the side. Luckily, both of you were so aroused that there was no need for foreplay. Lips moved against each other as you pressed the head of your husband’s cock against your entrance, pushing inside without a second thought. You couldn’t care less if the door wasn’t locked, and you seriously doubted anyone would enter from the moans resonating from both of you.

All that mattered was fucking each other's brains out. Whether it was a factor from the curse or your undying love for each other, you allow yourselves to lose sight of your control. You needed him just as bad as he needed you. And you gave it to him. It’s hard and fast as he gave it to you after he had been pent up from work all day.

Nanami screamed, head rocking back against the wall as you thrust forward, slamming the head of his cock against your cervix over and over, making sure to go as deep as you possibly could. You wanted him to know how good he always left you feeling after a rough session. Your fingers dug into the fat of your hips as you nipped and sucked at your neck, drawing out more moans from him.

You were giving it, your all fucking your husband as hard as he did; Nanami was gripping onto his biceps, staring into your eyes as he took it all in. Every thrust that led to immense pleasure, every kiss, he took in everything you were doing to him. Because the second he was back in his own body, he would make sure he made you feel as good as you made him feel.

And that was a promise he intended to keep.

“Oh, my fuck—” You cried out softly, feeling your orgasm already approaching you. “You feel too good—”

“Yeah, I know that’s how you make me feel every time. But it’s—nngh! It’s—haaah!”

“Hard to not cum?” You answered for him, feeling your walls tightening around your husband’s cock. “Fuck—oooh fuck.”

“C-Cummi—oh m-my god!”

There was no warning, no further words expressed. All that you managed to do was lose yourselves in your orgasms. Nanami cried out tears, picking your eyes as your walls constricted and convulsed around his cock, drawing out your orgasm. You roared a moan loudly into Nanami’s ear as you came inside, fucking his come further inside of you, doing exactly what he did to you every night.

The classroom felt stuffy and hot and reeked of sex. But neither of you cared as you slowly slid to the ground, holding Nanami flush against your chest. You kissed each other deeply, only breaking apart to take a deep breath as all the air escaped your lungs.

“I didn’t think it was possible—” Nanami whispered in your voice, “but I fell deeper in love with you right now.”

“Ken—I love you so much.”

You never made it home that night. Instead, you went to one of the spare dorms and ravished each other all night. Both of you took notes on how exactly your body reacted to certain touches and kisses because the second you were back in your own bodies, you planned on using this newfound information to spice up your marriage even more.

Ryomen Sukuna (JJK Sorcerer AU):

“I hate this!” Sukuna barked out, pacing the floor back and forth. “Ugh!”

“Calm down.” You said from the couch, rubbing your hands down your face. “You’re acting like it’s the end of the world.”

When Sukuna turned to give you the dirtiest look in the world, you weren’t met with his tattooed face, but your own instead. “Have you stopped to look at what happened? I am in your body.” That was true. Your boyfriend was in your body, and you were currently inhabiting his body.

“So it’s not like you’ve never been inside me.” You waggled your eyebrows at him, only to win it go to hell look in return. “Okay, shit, sorry for joking, but you heard Shoko. The effects of this curse will only last a few hours.”

“A few hours too many.”

You weren’t sure if it was the testosterone right now feeling in your blood or the very common annoyance you had with your arrogant boyfriend at times. But for some ungodly reason, watching him, he back-and-forth with a scale on your face was irritating, ever-loving fuck out of you. He was acting like a brat over something neither of you could control.

It wasn’t even just the whole situation itself. Shit like this happened when you were a sorcerer. You got hit with different curses, injured, and usually were expected to live not that long of a life. You knew there was always a chance you wouldn’t come home from a mission. You both were hit by a curse, and you manage walked away with minor injuries and a mild side effect. That was something he should be happy about. But for some damn reason, this whole situation only made him angrier than usual.

“This is bullshit; if only my reverse technique worked shit like this.”

“Kuna! Seriously, what is your problem?”

He growled at you, which would usually put you back in your place when you’re back talking to him, but it seems that growl wasn’t as effective when it came from your body. Meaning you were pretty much unaffected by his tactic of intimidating you.

“I feel weak, okay?!”

“Weak?” You asked with a scoff. “You’re seriously calling me weak?”

“N-No! Fuck I mean, I don’t feel as strong as I normally do.” The more he tried to defend himself, the deeper the hole he dug. “I don’t have the power or technique I have mastered through the years. Instead, I am unfamiliar with your technique, and all I have to defend myself with are these stupid papers.” He scoffed, digging into one of the pouches attached to your belt and pulling out one of your talisman papers. “I mean, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this fold origami?”

“You could shove it up your ass when you get back in your own body, and I hope you get a papercut when doing so.”

“No, I—you know how I see you.” He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’re strong, and you’ve mastered your technique. But I don’t know how to do anything you do. I feel useless, and I’m not saying that you can’t hold your own in a fight you kick ass. I feel weak because I’m unaware of how to use your technique.”

There was a paying of understanding deep inside your chest. You knew what he meant because you felt the same way. There was an immense amount of power coursing through your veins, which could easily be used for evil instead of good. Having such a plethora of cursed energy made you feel as though you were a ticking time bomb, like if you were to sneeze, you would blow up a building.

So, instead of lecturing or giving him even more of a hard time, you draped a tattooed arm over your shoulder, pulling your boyfriend close to your side. “I get it, I guess.” You whispered, tilting your head back and staring up at the ceiling. “Being in your body makes me feel as though I’m destined to destroy things.” Sukuna snickered, turning to look up at you. “But just because I don’t have the same amount of cursed energy doesn’t mean I’m weak. I’m still strong in my ways.”

“Yeah? In what ways?”

“When I’m riding your cock. I feel all-powerful like nothing can stop me. Especially when you’re groaning, grabbing my hips, encouraging me to move faster.”

At that moment, you regretted the words that came from your mouth. Because all you heard was your boyfriend's understanding hum. A hum that led to his hands working at your pants.

“W-whoa, easy there, Kuna. What are you doing?”

“Taking control, to see just how powerful I’ll feel.”

There was no room for protest; once your boyfriend set his mind to something, he made sure to get it done. Even if that means stripping down, straddling your hips, and lowering himself awkwardly on his cock. Watching his wish contort with pleasure left you feeling as though you might be able to take the reins on this. It wasn’t as though your boyfriend would be able to take control, to ride cock like a pro.

But you seem to forget that this was your boyfriend, one of the strongest sorcerers of the modern age, just as strong as Gojo, if not more robust. The man was smart, and despite the facial tattoos and the muscles, he knew how to get shit done.

“Oh fuck!” You cried out as he slammed himself down onto his cock with a satisfied growl. “K-Kuna baby! P-Please slow down!”

His hand clamped firmly over your mouth, silencing your protests. “Shut up, I’m in control.” your voice sounded so dark and sultry, god it was so hot! “Just be good and sit still for me; let me use you.” you couldn’t argue with that, and with the way he slowly lifted himself off his cock, before slamming your body back down onto it, leaving you feeling pussy drunk.

“Fuck!”

You cried out, shaking as Sukuna rode you like there was no fucking tomorrow. “Oh fuck, fuuuuck!”

“Yeah~ I suddenly see why you like to be on top of a lot.” he dug your manicured nails into his shoulders, dragging them down over his chest. “From this position, I can do whatever I want to.” You couldn’t even ask what he planned on doing to you before his hips were rolling in circles and you were seeing stars. “Are You paying attention? This is how I want you to ride my cock from now on.”

“K-Kuna—Kuna!”

“I feel so powerful; seeing that pitiful look on my face should piss me off. But instead, it’s making me wanna draw out more.”

It was a combination of everything that was going on that sent you coming first. It was the way Sukuna was purring in your ear, so how he rolled your hips around his shaft, to the stinging burn left of your nails over his skin. It happens so fast, and your boyfriend's cock twitched inside of your walls as you came first. And it was unusual. Usually, you were the first to finish, but it never happened like this before. Your boyfriend being the first to fill you up rather than you soaking him with your release.

Sukuna wasn’t even upset about it. He swelled with a certain sense of pride at getting you off first and with a body he was unfamiliar with. That left him feeling so satisfied he could feel his ego swelling. Before he could brag over the fact that he was better than you, his head began to pound as his vision blurred. His grip on his own shoulders tightened. Sukuna thought he might black out for a moment before he was blinking the black spots out of his vision. When it cleared, he was no longer towering above you but underneath you.

Much to his relief, he looked up at your beautiful face instead of down at his own.

You barely had a second to process what was going on and how it happened before Sukuna’s strong hands and your hips were holding them tightly. Open your mouth to speak, but before any words had the chance to leave your mouth, your boyfriend was pulling you up the link of his cock before slamming you back down on him. You nearly came again just from that action in itself.

“N-Nngh! K-Kuna w-wa—ahh!”

He holds you up and back back down on his cock again and again and again. “I thought I told you to pay attention while riding you.” His hips thrust up into your dripping wet pussy. “I want you to do exactly what I did. Don’t keep me waiting; show me how strong you are, Kitten.”

Geto Suguru:

“So let me get this straight?” Satoru questioned while sitting across from you and your boyfriend. “You both took out the special-grade curse?”

“Yep.”

“Suguru turned it into a ball and gulped it down as he does.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then everything went black, and you both woke up like this?”

He motioned towards the bodies of his two friends, lifting his blindfold to watch as you knotted your head, which was your boyfriend’s head. Satoru got the story right; it was a simple mission, simple enough for both of you to handle. You could take out the curse with no issues, but when Suguru absorbed it, everything took a turn. Everything went dark, and the next second, you were sitting up in your boyfriend’s body with the most unpleasant taste in your mouth after swallowing the curse.

It was a shock initially, but weird things happened whenever your boyfriend absorbed a curse. That just came with the territory of a curse manipulator. Cursed spirits sometimes had different effects on his body and sometimes the body of those near him. Fortunately, you had been near him on this mission. Geto would have hated to be in Gojo’s body, so this was a win-win scenario.

“Yep, for the time being, we’re stuck like this.”

Gojo sat back in his chair, wincing at the situation, you both found yourselves in. “Shit, sorry about that, guys.” Suguru shook his head, stretching your arms above you.

“Eh, it could have been a lot worse.”

“ that’s true, but are you guys gonna—ya’ know?” Satoru jester to the two of you with his hands. “Use the opportunity to your advantage?”

Suguru and you looked at the white-haired man, blinking in confusion. “Advantage? Satoru, what are you even talking about?” you asked, running your fingers through your boyfriend's black hair.

“You know, I’ll get down and dirty?”

“What?!”

“Satoru~” Your voice purred out as Suegro shook her head. “Is sex the only thing on your mind?”

“Hey, it’s a genuine question. I’m just curious.”

Your boyfriend, who was irritated from the throbbing vein in your forehead. Having sex like this in his body hadn’t crossed your mind. When it initially happened, neither of you had been more concerned with making sure both you and Suguru were okay than about what happened. Besides that, sex wasn’t the only thing on your mind! The thought of doing it like this even occurred to you, and it wouldn’t have even crossed your mind, but thanks to manifest. It was out in the open, sticking out like a sore thumb.

You shifted, trying to listen to your boyfriend bickering back and forth with his best friend. Suddenly, you were aware of the throbbing inside your boyfriend, thankfully baggy pants. And you had the sudden urge to go home because the only thing you bring could focus on was how your boyfriend‘s dick was swelling. The last thing you wanted to do was pop a Boner in front of your mutual friend after he had just suggested hooking up with each other while in the opposite body.

If he found out how you felt, you wouldn't hear the end of his arrogant comments and encouragement.

Yeah, it was best to keep him out of your bedroom life. Especially when you weren’t sure if you wanted to take it that far. There was a burning desire deep in your stomach, one that had you itching to touch your body, to kiss your boyfriend, to succumb to the lust that was burning like a fire deep down inside of you. Was this how Suguru felt around you all the time? Or was it just part of the curse?

“Hey,” you looked up from the bed, watching as Suguru brushed your damp hair. “I think I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight.”

Suguru stopped turning his focus on you. “Why would you do that?” What could you even say? You were hard as a rock and wouldn't be able to control yourself? That you wanted him, but you didn't want to gross him out or make things even weirder?

“Well—I uhm—I—have a bit of a situation.”

“I know. You’re hard; you've been hard since we left campus.”

Your hands almost instinctively died towards the crotch, trying to cover the erection that was still throbbing angrily within the confines of the boxers. “H-How did you know?” Your boyfriend let out a giggle that sounded so strange coming out of your mouth.

“My pants may be baggy, but they aren’t that baggy.”

You felt yourself turn fifty shades of red as you groaned, covering your face in your hands. “Oh my god, you could tell?! Why didn't you say anything?” Another sweet laugh came across the room as you resisted the urge to summon Rainbow Dragon to eat you.

“I didn't want to embarrass you.”

“Yeah, well, I think I'm more embarrassed now. Can I manipulate your curses to eat me? To put me out of this misery?”

“Oh, stop, you're fine. I was only able to notice because I know my body.”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“Well, it should be because you looked so fucking hot. Seeing you fight against those primal urges has your body reacting just as strongly.”

You perked up, watching as Suguru swayed your hips as he slowly approached you. “Is that so?” Suguru nodded, pulling your sleep shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor.

“Even though we're in different bodies, my soul is crying to be near yours.” He slipped your shorts down next, kicking them off to the side.

You slowly ran a hand down your boyfriend's stomach, grabbing his hard cock through his pants. "Fuck guess I got caught. But can you blame me? This is weird." Your hands slowly stoked his hard cock. "But also strangely arousing at the same time."

Seeing your hand stroking his cock had Geto’s eyes widening as he looked over his body before he was overtaken with the sudden urge to shove you down on the bed, immediately straddling his hips. "Don't mind if I do~"

You moaned, blushing up at Geto as he hummed softly. "O-Oh, holy fuck." You said, grabbing his hips. "Fuck is this what I look like to you?" you were in awe of your body. The curves, softness of your skin, and fuck, the fact your pussy was nearly touching his cock. Making it even harder, which seemed impossible.

“Mhm~” Suguru nodded; he rolled your bare hips as he ran his fingers over your hair. "It's really hot, isn't it?"

"Fuck yes, fuck look at my boobs." You said, reaching up and squeezing them. "The way they bounce, it’s so hypnotic."

Your boyfriend giggled, rocking your hips harder before reaching behind him, pulling his own cock from his pants with a moan. "Holy shit.”

"I know it's really hard," You whispered. "I-I holy fucking shit." His cock was so hard Suguru knew it had to be painful.

"I knew I was big, but Fuuck, this put it in a different perspective. Fuck, I'm going to put it inside of your pussy, Princess.” He hummed as he rolled your hips up and down your cock like you had done countless times before.

"Oh, you are?" You asked, licking your lips. "Nah, I don't think so; it’s time I give you a taste of your own medicine.” You growled out while flipping him over onto his side. "I'm going to put it in your pussy." You ground your hips against drenched folds with a snarl.

Suguru gasped, moaning as he felt the head of his cock rubbed against your pussy. Being the one to do it felt much different than being on the receiving end. But it still felt good regardless. He suddenly knew why you begged so pretty; he longed for more than teasing touches. He was about to start praying for more when his whole body seized up as you pressed the head against the tight ring of muscles of the entrance, fighting the need to shove it all in.

“Baby, please—!”

“Oooh, who's a needy slut?”

"Fuck, I am! I want you to fucking destroy me, please.” Suguru moaned, his head slowly rolling back against the pillows.

You smirked, running your tongue over your bottom lip. "Oooh, begging for me already, that’s so cute.” You slammed inside Suguru’s tight pussy. "Fuck—you're so tight~!!"

Suguru gasped before screaming out a moan while you thrust in and out. "F-Fuck yeah!! Just like that, oh god!!~ Princess!!” Hearing such pretty sounds only filled your desire, making you eager to move, to make him feel as good as he did for you.

"Fuck yeah~ what are you always saying? ‘You like me fucking your cunt slut?’”

“Yeah, I see why, fuck you feel so fucking good!!" Suguru cried out, his eyes rolling back. "Fuck! Princess!! Fuck, I'm your slut, god I want your cum so bad!!"

"Cum for me then~!" You commanded, reaching around and rubbing your clit in fast circles just as you knew your body liked it. "Cum all over my cock." Your thrusts were becoming erratic as you felt your balls tighten.

Suguru cried out, his head thrown back as he clenched hard on your cock. "Yesyes-Yes! Fuck, Princess!! Fuckfuckfuck-!!"

You followed immediately behind Suguru; your hips stuttered as you came hard, cum filling your pussy with thick white cum. "O-Oh fuck~!"

"H-Holy shit!!”

"Fuck, oh fuck." You panted roughly, looking down at Suguru, who was still trapped in your body. "That felt s-ao good."

"Holy hell, the cum feels so fucking good—"

“Yeah~ it makes you feel all nice and warm afterward.”

Your boyfriend moaned softly. "You know what feels even better? Fucking you with my cum~ I promise it feels fucking amazing give it a try."

You perked up at that, turning red, but you couldn't just take his word for it. You needed to feel it for yourself. So you slowly started thrusting back inside, moaning loudly.

"Oh god, you're fucking right, feels good.”

“I N-Nngh told you!”

You kissed Suguru eagerly, thrusting faster. Your boyfriend smiled softly, cupping your cheeks in his hands, kissing you deeply as he moaned into your mouth. You kissed back just as eagerly, stroking Suguru’s cheek. Your nails dug into his hips as you moved faster than you could think.

"F-Fuck, can't stop—! God, you feel too fucking good!"

Suguru moaned softly, smiling up at you. "F-Fuck~ I love you too, Princess, so cum in me again!”

You groaned, sucking his neck, leaving a trail of hickeys. "I will." You growled, nipping her earlobe. "I'm gonna keep cumming inside your pussy." your hip bucked, slamming against her cervix as spurts of hot cum filled Suguru, the sensation enough to throw him over the edge with you.

“Y-Yeah! Oooh fuck!” He cried out a moan, clawing at your back as he felt himself cum around your cock when you slammed deep into him. "C-Cumming!! Cumming Princess!!"

You gritted your teeth as you came inside your boyfriend again. That’s how you both were. You were just in sync with each other. Despite the fact, you were in each other’s bodies. You knew how to make the other field good; you wanted to keep going because you weren’t sure how long this side effect would last. But your lack of experience having a dick and poor stamina said otherwise.

"M’ sorry baby, I-I do-don't think I can go anymore. I can’t take it.” You feebly cried out before collapsing on top of your own body, winning a satisfied sigh from Suguru, who was underneath you.

“Honestly, I’m okay with that,” he said as he gulped air. “Fuck you’re probably gonna be sore in the morning. And I don’t wanna hear you complaining about it because this was your own doing.”

Your mind felt fuzzy as you just nodded your head nuzzling your boyfriend‘s face into the crook of your neck because you took in the afterglow and the rash of being near him in such an intimate way. Suguru hummed happily, running his fingers through your hair. He was honestly surprised you were able to go two rounds.

“Sleepy?” he asked softly, only receiving a hum in return. “Ooh—my sweet girl. Lay down for a minute, and let's cuddle before we take a shower.”

“Okay.” you finally could form coherent words as you lay down on your side, cupping your boyfriend's cheek. “Can I—”

“Yes, you can be the little spoon.” You weren’t sure how long the curse's effect would last, but as long as you were with each other, it didn’t matter. All that you cared about was coming home safely with Suguru and sleeping soundly in his arms, which made your dangerous job worth it.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[s0dium]

Monster Fucker

Monster Form!Sukuna x F!Reader

A/n: This is part of my 'Sex' event and collab with other writers!! Please check out the other amazing works here

Synopsis: You are losing your mind from being fucked by monster form Sukuna

Warnings: DOUBLE PENETRATION, two dick four arms Sukuna, cream pie, dub cob, heavy detail, rough sex, sub space, nipple play

~

If heaven existed, this was surely it. And if someone could wield such euphoric pleasure and power over you then surely they were a god, and that had to be Sukuna.

"Hnghhh, please I cant -kuna-" Tears rolled down your face and dripped onto the white sheets below as you choked back a sob, kneeling on your hands and knees like a dog. Your poor cunt fluttered and squeezed Sukunas cock making the pink-haired curse chuckle. He is not even moving right now but the stretch alone has pleasure rippling through you, electrifying every nerve ending.

“Awwww you poor thing" Sukuna snickers darkly, pressing his second dick against you asshole. Two of his hands are on your tits, tweaking and flicking your nipples with his index finger in fast up and down motion, making your pussy quiver from the euphoric stimulation. He slightly leans down to let a glob spit hit the tight hole, smearing the gooey liquid with the tip of his dick on your ass hole.

"Scream my name for me okay?" Sukuna murmurs into your ear before thrusting his second dick inside you. You let out a choked scream at the feeling of his thick hard member forcefully spreading your tight insides, and oh my god you have never felt so fucking full in your life right now. On one hand Sukuna's dick is stretching your cunt and pressing against your gspot, the sweet spot that you only dream about hitting with your fingers. On the other hand, your brain is overcome with the entirely new feeling of getting stuffed from behind, and boy, the stretch and heaviness of it inside you has you gasping for breath.

There is no warning when Sukuna reels his hips back, both dicks almost leaving both of your holes before pushing back in, filling you up in a way you could never dream of. The warm tingly sensation that had previously formed at the base of your cunt was now spreading like wildfire with the penetration and friction from your ass acting as gasoline. You needed more, that one thrust wasn't enough you needed Sukuna to devour you.

“Please, I- Hngh- I want m-more!” you sob, and you dont even have to turn around to know that Sukuna is grinning like a maniac.

"Yeah? You want more?" He laughs and while continuing to play with your nipples, one his hand drops down to your clit to rub tight fast circles on the sensitive nub. "Who am I to deny you."

The next couple of second are a blur as he ruthlessly fucks you doggy style. It is a primal, brutal display of intimacy that has your thighs quivering.

“Nghhh, f-fuck me pleaseeeeee” you begged, hips long gone from doing any work, only allowing yourself to have both of your holes fucked like a flesh light. You cant breath, so much as think, each breath you take deepens the sensation, sending electric flesh arrows of pleasure across your body leaving your skin hot and tingling.

“You hear this? You hear these sounds?" One of Sukuna's hands grabs your hair and pulls you up right so you are no longer on your hands, now you are just on your knees, but he continues to fuck you from behind. "Your fucking dripping, dirty slut," He chuckles and from the corner of your eye you can see his tattooed skin move into a grin.

You are loosing your mind at this point and oh God, you were drooling. The air was heavy with the smell of sex and you were becoming lost in the rhythmic pap pap of Sukuna's skin against yours. The feeling that was forming in your core was starting to blossom, it felt as if every cell in your body was pulsating in harmony, carrying you closer to a state of pure, ecstatic release.

You wonder if you’re dreaming. It feels euphoric, being completely immersed by Sukuna's entire being - filled to the brim with him, surrounded by his large muscular body, his searing skin, his deep voice filling your ears.

"You want to come? Oh I know you do, come on~" Sukuna taunts you as he fucks you from behind. The combined friction and stimulation of both holes has your eyes rolling back and legs shaking with the upcoming orgasm.

Suddenly it hits you.

The muscles in your stomach clench and your feelings of pleasure some to a euphoric beautiful crescendo. Your tongue falls out of your mouth and your mind goes blank from the high of the feeling. With a light groan of his own, Sukuna creams into both of your holes; a ring of the white liquid forming at the base of the cock thats in your ass from to the tight fit, and the other shooting hot heavy loads deep into you.

Yes, this is surely heaven.

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon’s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone. 

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.”

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads lead to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[fantasmagoriazzz]

ㅤ⭒̲Learning to share ;

ㅤㅤㅤ 🕸️⠀⧽ㅤBedtime.

Scenario where, somehow, you managed to take home both Mr. Crawling and Scarletella.

a/n: This was supposed to be an One-shot but I had so many ideas that adding them all in one would be too long, so.... Part one, I guess?

Even in the smallest situations, that tension between those two entities was present.... Every second.

Consistently palpable in the air; like the nature of a cat and a dog, tense glances at each other as "their human" took care of any task that didn't involve them at home.

The vast majority of the time, Crawling was usually a few steps behind you, looking as if there was nothing more entertaining on his world, for him there wasn't, only you.

Meanwhile, Scarletella... Even if his body didn't seem present, the feeling of his penetrating gaze, leaving the weight of his dark pupils on your shoulders... Never left you alone. Sometimes, when the back of your neck would bristle for no apparent reason outside the house, you would come to wonder if he followed you through the streets simply so he could continue watching you.

When Mr. Crawling would reach out seeking the warmth of your body, rubbing his cheek against the smooth skin of your thighs as you stood, giggling, he would hug your legs and slide tentative caresses around your waist, begging for attention in whatever way needed, humming: " Touch! Touch! " And Scarletella would automatically appear, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, resting his head on yours and pressing himself against your back, as if the very idea of Crawling touching you a second longer than he did seemed unthinkable to him.

When it was time to rest this didn't change.

They had both adapted to your schedule in the human world pretty quickly. The long period of your absence from home, your nightly outings to fetch them food and enjoy your hobby, gosh, there wasn't an hour away from home when the thought of them confronting each other in some way didn't cross your mind, even if it was a fleeting flash of concern.

They were wary of your attention, Crawling and Scarletella seemed to agree on nothing beyond their love for you... And on that going to bed was their favorite time of the day.

Every night before you went to bed you took a bath, and every time you left the small room amidst the warm steam and sweet scents, they both waited outside the door like eager puppies. Their ghoulish grins would lengthen as they watched you walk to bed. Mr. Crawling would quickly climb over the sheets and laugh expectantly at the thrill of feeling your body next to him, Scarletella rather wait for you to lie down first and then press himself against you immediately after.

Previously in your life, the double beds all to yourself were a relief, such available space made you rest even more comfortably. But now, snuggled between two shadowy bodies every night, it seemed much more pleasant than any previous night in your life could have been.

As soon as you curl up on the sheets two pairs of hands desperately search for you.

As far as you knew, they didn't need to sleep, not really. They could close their eyes and do so, resting next to you more for the pleasure of simply sleeping by your side. At other times one of them would lie awake, watching you intently, but luckily, the incidents of sharing a room didn't go beyond tense murmurs shared between those two ghosts.

The first few days you thought that sleeping on your back would be the most viable option, both could hug you in equal parts, you thought, but soon noticing that, when they both tried to cuddle on your chest and ended up face to face irremediably, the tension returned. Incomprehensible murmurs formed words you didn't yet know, only a few from your limited dictionary; " Human, mine. Don't touch. Me don't like you. " Cat and dog staring at each other, about to fight.

Well then, plan B.

You found that if you lay on your side, Scarletella would press his face against your shoulder and Mr. Crawling would snuggle into your chest, tame as little pleased puppies. There was something about your warmth that fascinated them, and when you lay down after a recent bath, with that warmth permeating your skin along with the wet feeling on it and the sweet scents wafting off you, they were both drawn to you like bees to honey.

Scarletella pressed his chest against your back, brushed the tip of his nose against the nape of your neck and sighed slowly against it, his cold breath ruffled the skin nearby, and somehow, he seemed to notice the soft tingles his touches left on you, that his icy touches, before warming against your flesh, would make you snuggle against him like two pieces that fit perfectly. He held you so close, your perfume invaded him completely as your warmth pressed against his cold body, when his lips brushed the skin of your shoulders he felt like he could go crazy, he could taste you, have you... Scarletella's hands were always reaching for your waist, going crazy when he can feel the bare skin under your clothes.

And Crawling had nothing to envy, the smiling entity wedged his face between your chest, the warmth and softness of your breasts made from time to time one of his gentle giggles drown against your skin and send warm tingles to the deepest corner in your belly, he adored your scent, he adored you, and he found the sound of your heartbeat equally or more intoxicating than having you in his arms. Tentatively, from time to time, his head would move a little higher, his hair tickling you as he seemed to seek your neck with his lips to simply brush them close to your skin. His corners were pulled a little higher as he felt the small sighs and pleased hums reverberate in your throat.

More than a kiss, the caresses of both cold mouths tried to emulate one by instinct, the instinct to want you, to have you, to desire you...

Usually, it was Crawling who made the first move.

As time passed and the warmth of your body filled theirs, between your scent and your soft sleepy caresses, a hand for each of them; something accompanied the firm embrace they both had on you. Something more noticeable, and harder.

Mr. Crawling pressed against your thigh, slowly, as the breath caressing your chest became shaky you could sense what he intended, and wanted. No matter how many times it happened, Crawling always pushed slowly, shyly almost against you.

" No sleep? " he would murmur in a huff, whenever he heard you sigh behind his movements, almost afraid that you might forbid him to touch you. You never would, to either of them, but there's something about his neediness that makes it adorable. " Me like you, can I...? " He strokes his hard erection against the soft bare skin of your thigh once more, and immediately, the length that all this time had been pressed against your ass mimics the slow movement, cutting off your breath.

"You... Mine. " Between the faint whispers, Scarletella presses his forehead against your shoulder, pushing his hips into you, just as slowly. Knowing he must share you adds another layer to the simmering possessiveness inside him, he clings to your waist warily each time, even if he seems ever watchful of the begginig of these situations.

In that position, watching his bulge rub against the fabric of your pajama shorts, knowing he can feel you, fascinated that you are his too... It's not clear if it fuel or calms his overflowing possessiveness.

They did nothing but hold you possessively, wrapping their arms around you and brushing their mouths against your skin. Both bulges brush against your body between messy thrusts, their shuddering breaths caressing you near the nape of your neck and against it. Lips that once delicately caressed the touch of your skin feel moist as they murmur to you the declarations of two obsessive lovers.

" love you, love you, love you. " In unison of a hot, sweet chorus, hearing them so close, feeling them harden against your body, feeling them so needy for you...

" Two... I like you two. " You whispered, trying to remember that strange language correctly when only they manage to occupy your head.

Immediately Scarletella's fingers on your waist tightened a little more, Crawling laughed. " You two, I like you, I like you, I like you. " You repeated.

So you cannot simply refuse the whims of the two beings you love the most.

Your hands sneak under the sheets, and they both know perfectly well what you will do, for their movements stop against the needs of the three of you, now, they don't want to get in your way.

You gasp through the darkness, awkwardly tug your shorts down, and you can feel a pair of hungry fingers helping you tug at any garment that might cover your lower half.

Wet, the first warm, fleshy length slips between your thighs, you're still not done hissing a sweet purr of pleasure when the second fleshy extension repeats the action. Two throbbing erections rub against your naked sex, soaking wet and just as dripping as both of them. Rarely, Mr. Crawling and Scarletella coordinate once more, as your gaze wanders upward lost in pleasure, both men begin a new, slow back-and-forth, making sure they can feel your intoxicating heat, one by one, you could almost swear they take turns rubbing your clit against each of their veiny lengths, lunging slowly in intermittent thrusts.

" Me like you... Me like you... " whispers the voice against your ear, kissing over your shoulder messily. You're still so lost in the wet sensation of Scarletella's cold tongue tasting your nape, that the slippery trace of one more lick sliding between your breasts steals your breath. "Like you, like you, like you. " Mr. Crawling lifts his chin, guiding his tongue down your collarbones and into your neck in a single long lick that continues until caress your chin. You squeeze your thighs together, and swear you heard them both moan.

" You like me? " Crawling asked, weak, breathless, his voice trembling softly amidst the heat that makes him beg for more of your attention. Scarletella exhaled deeply against the back of your neck, you can feel his lips tighten after a particularly needy lunge between your thighs.

" You like me? " the redhead's voice repeated. Heavens, not now.

The thrust of both hips increased their rhythm, your voice cracking between whimpers that trigger the heat in the body of those two. They both collaborate in a messy massage to your clitoris, one against the other, relentlessly rubbing the sensitive little button peeking between your dripping folds. " Like me? You like me? " repeats the timbre of a messy voice between desirous moans. Did only one of them speak, or did their voices blend again as one, inside the intoxicated perception of your mind?

Scarletella takes his hand a little lower, slides his fingers until he can squeeze the spongy flesh on your butt.

Crawling, still sucking under your chin, he clutches his fingers between the soft skin of your thigh, guides your leg carefully up, raising it over his hip. Irremediably your lips quiver and your back arches at the new position. Now more exposed, your soaked, sensitive folds embrace the head of each erection as they brush against your most sensitive spot, threatening to slide inside you, never moving beyond thrusts against dripping nether lips.

" Like me? You like me? " Again, their voices interject one over the other as they beg insistently. You hear them whimper near your ears and gasp after each thrust, constant spasms leave your legs quivering with the perfect attentions to your body, but you still find it so hard to focus on any thoughts now.

You feel a thin trail slide along your corners, a thin thread of saliva threatening to create itself, picked up immediately by a wet, slippery caress against your corner.

" Me? Me? " Mr. Crawling's voice implores for an answer with the tone you'd swear belongs to a needy puppy, his tongue tasting the edge of your lips, and you immediately hear Scarletella mumble warily.

Scarletella sneaks his remaining hand close to your chin, turning your head just a little more, carefully, looking for his tongue to be able to reach the edge of your quivering lips as well. " You like me? " He asks, Crawling tightens the grip that caresses your thigh a little more, as if he might draw you closer.

You feel it once again, that look they give each other, the tense attention that seems to shoot sparkles through the how it bristles your skin at the danger of a fight, even now. You open your mouth, you should stop them, reproach them, but only.... "Two... Both... " You whimper, your watery pupils unable to focus on anything amidst the darkness, faint tears form at the edge of your eyes. It feels so good, so good you could sob with the hot tension melting in your belly every time one of them rubs against you. " Both.... Love... Me love both... " You spin the words somehow, a spark of lucidity still helping you find what you want to say, what you need them to understand.

"I Love both... Touch me more. " You command, and it is when they look at your disastrous expression, with half-open lips whispering sweet words and sinful moans, that their hearts delighted by you manage to form a truce.

Crawling slides his long tongue over your neck, his hot exhalations crashing against freshly moistened skin as Scarletella slides the beginnings of small bites to the edge of your shoulders. The room is no more than a disastrous chorus of three ecstatic voices, riotous compliments to you, loving words between the moans of both ghosts. Sweet murmurs that don't stop even as you squirt over both throbbing erections, desire-filled words that intensify and stumble awkwardly between syllables, as they both spill between your mixed fluid-soaked folds.

Crawling and Scarletella lie beside you, their chests, just as heaving as yours, breathing deeply as they cling to you and make you wonder if they really need the air as much as you do. Hot spurts spill between your thighs, both hiding their faces against your body as they purr incomprehensible moans and ecstatic compliments. They repeat how much they like you over and over, as you catch your breath.

So, you will have to take another bath in the morning.

[4ng3ls-p4l4c3]

reasons i need to lose weight . . .

1 ) love the way i look

2 ) fit my clothes better

3 ) get more compliments on my outfits

4 ) have more variety for clothes

5 ) to have less of a box shape

6 ) won't get call "regular" or "standard"

7 ) to not feel addicted to sweets

8 ) to cleanse my insides

9 ) make it easier to eat healthy

10 ) build habits that make me a better person

11 ) feel more motivated to clean, take care of myself, etc

12 ) i'll be able to fit into all of my friends clothes

13 ) i won't look fat if i ask to eat out

14 ) no rolls when i sit

15 ) collarbones will stick out so far water can get stuck in them

16 ) thighs will no longer touch

17 ) won't sweat easily/as much

18 ) fell more comfortable in my own skin

19 ) i won't have an indent on my bed whenever i lay down

20 ) can get through small places easier

21 ) won't be scared to sit on someone/next to someone

22 ) to feel more light

23 ) not to take as much space up

24 ) be able to sit in the child position wo feeling fat 😭

25 ) nails to be blue, hands to be pale constantly

26 ) to look better in pajamas

27 ) no double chin

28 ) to look like the character i relate to

29 ) not to get as winded when going up stairs

30 ) to reach my full potential

i'll add to this whenever i find more reasons, i'm doing this for me. to love myself as much as i can.

[3amfanfiction]

You wrote this about Simon: “At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.”

I’d LOVE to read more of this - i wanna be the one to offer him the soft touch he wants so badly, maaaan! He’s just so big n’ strong but i want to let him curl up against me while i pet him until he stops shivering

This came through at the perfect time. I had the desire to write but I was picking at all my wips half heartedly bc none of the them were what I wanted.

But this? This I wanted.

So thank you again and please enjoy 1.5k words of acclimatizing Simon to soft touches.

<33

Ask referencing this post.

~~~~

He scared you, the first time you saw him.

Not because of how big he was (tall, thick, muscular) or the look in his eyes (cold, dismissive, too watchful), not even because of the scars themselves (numerous, expansive, tragic).

It was because you knew any interaction would come across as a threat. He had that look in his eyes that said he'd seen the worst of what the world had to offer and he persisted through luck and spite equally. Now he was sat in front of you, too disciplined to let his skin shiver but hating being seen. Hating that you were looking.

When you met him it was through a friend of a friend sort of thing. One of your friends was seeing a Scottish boy and invited you out for drinks with them. You had no reason to say no so you found yourself sitting at a high-top doing your best not to bother the man sitting quietly to your right.

His gruff, Simon, during introductions was the only thing he had said in the last hour, content to sit quietly and watch. Almost outside of the group even though he was sitting at the same table. You made sure to include him when you were speaking to the group, your eyes darting to each person as you spoke, not leaving anyone out. But you made sure to never direct a hard question at him that required an answer. It was all, I bet you never have a problem seeing over the crowd. or I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm up or Sorry, I'll be out of your space in a moment, my jacket was getting a little warm.

He would look at you. Every time you spoke to him he wouldn't shy away from eye contact but that was where his involvement ended. Never a head nod or shake, never a verbal answer.

By the end of the night you were positive he didn't like you. He didn't dis-like you but he didn't like you, you were pretty sure. That was okay though. You'd done your best not to infringe on his space, not wanting to step on his toes. You thought you had done a good job all around and put it out of your mind, the interaction over and done with and no longer needing to be reviewed.

What you never realized was Simon's shoulders lowered a whole inch throughout the course of the night.

\\\

You called your friend out on the number of times she invited you to hang out with Johnny and Simon, flat out asking if she and Johnny were trying to set you and Simon up through subtle double-dating.

"No!" She leaned forward grabbing your hand, her eyes looking earnestly into yours, "I promise it's not like that. Johnny told me he's pretty much all Simon has. Well, their team is. So they're always together when they're home. I don't want Simon to feel like a third wheel or left out or anything."

And you believed her. This was one of her strong suits, always looking out for others. That's probably why you two got along so well, a pair of givers, the both of you. And she had a point. The idea of Simon sitting awkwardly with the other two as his only companions made something twist in your stomach. You didn't want that for him.

So you kept seeing Simon and you kept doing your best to give him space but include him at the same time. You were shocked the first day he spoke to you but the fact that it was a bad joke made a sort of perfect sense.

"What's the best way to carve wood?"

You looked over at him in shock that this was what he chose to break the ice with. At the same time you were delighted and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of Simon telling you a joke. A bad one by the sound of it.

"How?"

"Whittle by whittle."

"That was absolutely terrible."

He smiled to himself if his eye crinkles had anything to say about it. That giddy feeling bubbling up inside you was getting unsettlingly big right about now. You looked at the ground and bit your lip to keep from a cheesy grin of your own breaking out.

Before you knew it he had no problem speaking to you. While never particularly verbose, he would respond to comments directed towards him, offer his opinion if options were offered, and kept telling awful jokes.

You were hopelessly charmed.

You broke your own rules and reached for him first.

You were sat next to him on a bench, the sun setting and the evening air cooling further. He had told you another one of his god-awful jokes when you unthinkingly swatted out with your hand, brushing his arm. His muscles jumped and his arm tensed right before you made contact as if bracing for a hit. An involuntary reaction to someone reaching for him. It was a horrifying realization.

You sobered quickly and your chuckle died off awkwardly. You turned to face forward, looking out at the street, watching for any sign of your friend or Johnny who had stepped into the store for a quick moment leaving you and Simon to find a bench while you waited. You hoped that if you didn't draw attention to it then your faux pas would pass unmentioned.

You let out a relieved sigh when Simon continued with another comment, not taking your overstepping to heart. By the time the other two had rejoined you the whole situation was forgotten, water under the bridge. You didn't think of it again until it was the end of the night with everyone about to go their separate ways.

When you said goodbye to Simon he said it back, reaching out to brush his hand down your arm in return in almost the exact same spot as where you'd touched him earlier.

Your heart skipped a beat before picking up a double pace. You couldn't help but beam at him, a wide grin splitting your face even as he grunted and turned away, likely embarrassed by your show of emotion.

Today had been a good day after all.

You thought you had ruined it for a moment there, thankful when Simon seemed to brush past it. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate in the same manner though.

Maybe he really did like hanging out with you. You never doubted it for a second.

\\\

It took time–a slow steady build to where you ended up, curled up on the couch together with Simon laying on top of you. You both had your tops off to bask in a little skin-to-skin time.

You'd been together for a few months at this point and it was like night and day to compare him to the Simon you met all that time ago. This one couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. It was a slow warm-up to get past his walls in a way that wasn't upsetting to either of you. Soft touches that slowly built, leading to hand holding, to hugging, to kissing, to this.

You dragged your fingers slowly up his back, fingertips catching on raised scar tissue before continuing on, ever moving. He hummed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his face when you switched from fingertips to nails, gently scratching the skin.

You loved spending time like this, feeling Simon melt into you, eager for every touch he could get. If you were sitting still and Simon was in the vicinity you could bet that he would be pressed against your side before too much time had passed. Eager for the soft caresses you always had for him.

He was starved for touch and you wanted to feed him.

So you offered, again and again in the beginning–most times with no luck, to let him touch you. On the couch watching TV? Your arms would open, inviting a hug when he walked by. At the table? Your head was tilting up for a kiss if he wanted one. Passing each other in the hallway? You'd raise your hand and hold it in front of you, letting him press his big barrel chest into your palm if he wanted.

It was a slow acclimatization that brought you to today and the taste was all the sweeter for the time you had poured into it.

You lifted a hand to drag it through the spiky hairs at the back of his head, enjoying his groan of contentment. It sounded like he was already halfway asleep and you knew you wouldn't be leaving this spot for a while.

Might as well settle in and get comfortable. You familiarized him to gentle touches, now he was insatiable for them. He would be consuming them from you greedily for as long as you offered.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

hello ! i loved ur hcs for ghost x innocent reader sm, what do you think of könig x innocent reader? love ur writing ♡

König w/ an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Overprotective König, Rizzed-Out König, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

There is nothing König won’t do for you.

Your overall calm, kind demeanour brings him peace he’s never known before.

And because of that – because he adores you beyond measure – he can get very…protective.

He often treats you as more fragile than you actually are.

Horror film playing in the background while you’re talking ? It’s getting switched off.

A picture of someone exposing a shoulder in a swimsuit catalogue? It’s getting thrown into a fire.

A pair of your own underwear left unattended next to the wash bin? König’s stuffing it into the bottom of the basket.

There comes a point where you have to tell him that, yes, while you may be a little naïve, even a bit oblivious, you’re not stupid.

And, as best he can, König treats you as you want to be treated, which is to say not as if you are a nigh-extinct species of flower.

And, given this new ‘power’ as such – this permission to show you the less rounded edges of life – König begins to have some rather self-serving ideas.

Regardless of if you like horror films or not, König will use it against you.

He’ll test your stomach for terror, putting something frightening on whenever you’re having date night to see if you’ll cling to him.

And if you do, irrespective of whether you fear what’s happening on-screen or not, his soul will ascend.

He can die happy when you hold on to him, nuzzling into his side while quietly asking him to “Hold me, Köni. Please.”

Makes him feel all big and important.

Wear his clothes around him, my God–

First time he saw you in his hoodie – after an impromptu visit from the Rain God made your original outfit unusable – he literally did a double-take.

He dropped the plate he was washing, grasped at it as it slipped between his soap-frothed fingers.

He just punched it into the sink, heard something crack, and turned his attention to you. And only you.

“I– You–” König couldn’t even form a full sentence as you stared at him, half-peeking from behind the door.

“You look…” He racked every file, folder and confine of his mind for anything to describe how he felt right now, how you made him feel.

It just came out as a strangled noise. And, smiling, you hurried into his arms.

You didn’t mind that they were soapy and wet. And neither did König.

Though, the only reason he didn’t was because his brain was so positively fried that he quite literally could think of nothing else except you.

The longer you’ve been dating, the more comfortable König becomes with being rougher with you, shall we say.

It all starts when you start doing things you never did before.

Like letting your hands slip lower beneath his waist, resting on his hips; Sitting on his lap when there are no other spaces available – and then eventually when there are seats available; saying his name like that – “Köni,” when you need help.

“I just can’t do it all by myself. I need someone big and strong to do it for me.”

And, regardless of how sincere you sound when you say it, regardless of how you bat your eyelashes and plump your lips when you look up at him, König is far too whipped to say no.

At first, König genuinely doesn’t think you’re doing it intentionally.

And neither do you, until you see the effect it has on him.

Making his cheeks flush and a pillow find its way to his lap when he sits on the sofa, your head placed precariously close to the growing issue between his legs.

Now, König isn’t the type to go throwing accusations around.

But when he catches you wearing his favourite hoodie, balancing on the edge of the kitchen counter to reach something placed on top of the cabinets (and I don’t mean the top shelf; I mean on TOP of the cabinets – like when you’re hiding a Christmas gift), your underwear peeking just below the hem, he can’t take it.

He knows what you’re doing.

And now that you’ve let onto him, with your doe eyes and your exasperated “Köni, I need you–” he’s gone. Snapped.

Just because you’re “innocent” doesn’t mean you’re exempt from König’s wrath.

To put it plainly, König didn’t seem so shy or frightful of damaging that night as he pinned you to the wall and took you for the first time <3

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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