#tales of an exchange student

[toadeyes-miqote]

"Welcome to Sharlayan. Player got carried away with this piece."

Spent the whole time cackling at the unintentional "Uwu Senpai" vibes they gave me. The amount of screenshots I took, came in handy.

And now I owe me Heavensward Thancred.

The silliness of it all

[batterygarden]

can you help me, sensei?

contents: alpha! satoru gojo x omega! gn & afab reader. taboo dynamics (you used to be jujutsu tech student, he was/is a mentor figure), age gap, a/b/o, p in v sex with knotting and heat, manhandling (he’s strong), mult orgasms, gojo is bigger than u, barely there exhibitionism bc his house keepers are home, pet names, 1.8 k words

a/n: my contribution for @lorelune ‘s spring fever collab! ^_^ thanks for hosting <3 <3 <3

18+, minors dni please

Satoru’s sitting in his home office answering emails when you knock on his door, flooding the room with a certain tell-tale sugary fragrance the moment you step inside. Satoru sighs. You’ve only been staying with him two short days. This is what he gets for helping an ex-student in need, ignoring Nanami’s warnings about ‘sharing a space with an omega’.

“Hey bunny,” Satoru speaks slowly, eventually halting his typing when he looks up at you. “Something wrong?” (He knows what’s wrong. He knows that you know he knows. He’s buying himself time to reckon with it.)

“Uhm yes actually—” he feels a prick of guilt for asking. You’ll struggle to say it. “---I, uh, made a mistake.”

You inch your way closer, skittish but needy. Like he’s a stranger with food in his palms. Maybe that’s a generous comparison—Gojo can’t possibly come off that inviting. Maybe it’s as if he’s some murderous beast sleeping in a field of berries, and you’re starving. He needs to work on his analogies.

He scoots his chair away from his desk when you make your way around it, turning to face you with spread legs, inviting you in because he can’t help but want to. Your smell is so strong his mouth is watering.

“You’re in heat,” he says matter-of-factly. You flinch from your halted distance of a yard away.

“I need help.”

“Thought you were on suppressants.”

“I am! I mean—I thought I was! I’m starting to—ngh,” He watches you rub your thighs together. “---think they were expired or something.”

“‘s that so…” Gojo thumbs at the edge of his blindfold, prolonging the inevitable. This is a bother.

You nod frantically, your expression pained. Desperate and pleading like maybe you really are starving.

Gojo is mad, somewhere. He should be, at least. Any logic is forgotten with the clean air he breathed before your dramatic entrance, though.

This is Satoru Gojo’s first time feeling the true pull of his instincts. They rid him of his renowned self control—a lifetime of careful barriers and walls and techniques, wiped away by his cock and your fucking pheromones. It should be laughable.

But the instincts rob him of humor, too.

“Does it hurt?” His voice is soft without trying—he’s genuinely concerned. You’re helpless, his insides are screaming—he needs to do something.

Your eyes turn glassy when you nod, and Satoru has to grapple with the way it feels like the world will end if they spill over. Or worse, maybe he’d get even hornier.

He shushes you, pulling you into his lap carefully, like your limbs are held together with school glue, gently tugging till you straddle him.

“You poor thing. So needy huh?”

Your answering pout makes his cock twitch.

“Need an alpha to fill you up?” He says it so soft, it’s like a lulluby.

He doesn’t expect your quiet temperament to reply, but you do. “Yes, please, alpha—sensei, I really need it.”

That’s all he can take before he’s rubbing his face into your neck, inhaling and licking at the sweetness there before he bites, leaving a permanent mark, relishing in your whines while a warm hand slots between your legs.

And just like that, you’re being mated with Satoru Gojo. A teacher from school that taught the other students in your grade while you were busy healing with shoko. The strongest man alive, your sponsor who agreed to house you briefly between moves, an enigma more than a man (and one you don’t even truly know, at that). Just sitting on his lap like this is far more intimate than the two of you have ever come infinitesimally close to being—exchanging small talk and a few mentor-related words of advice was the prior extent of the relationship. There were pet names, sure—but you’ve come to find those were on par for Gojo Sensei’s personality.

Now he’s got teeth in the skin of your throat while his fingers trace right through the center of you, only a thin layer of shorts in the way. You buck automatically, openly desperate, whining when that isn’t enough.

“you poor baby—“ sensei hums, his lips against your pulse. His tone is patronizing, but it soothes you regardless. “It’ll be okay. Gonna make you feel better.”

He speaks against your jaw now, dotting kisses wherever he moves while the sorry excuse for shorts you wear are pulled to the side, your panties with them, so he can really trace you.

Though they aren’t what you truly need, Gojo’s big fingers sate your ache in a way you couldn’t yourself—your body seems to mellow at the touch of an alpha, like it knows you’ll be taken care of now that he’s here.

Instincts less frantic, your sighed please alpha comes slow and heavy as he pushes two fingers inside of you, almost testingly. It’s slow—bordering agonizing—but you wouldn’t put it past gojo sensei to mess with you, even at a time like this.

Your slick floods his fingers at that small action, a whine and a buck of your hips accompanying, and satoru lets out an amused sigh.

You’re preparing to beg for him, plead to stop the teasing, but then… you’re on his cock before you can take another breath.

The relief is unparalleled. One minute he was dipping fingers into your entrance, slow and deceptively gentle before the next he was spreading your juices over his freed cock, pulling you onto him like he’d done it a million times. You suppose the familiarity is from those very instincts that brought you here—your chest practically sings now that they’re sated.

And so do you—you can’t control the cry you let out when he finally stretches you, feeling every ridge and vein of his heavy cock deep inside your tummy just where you’ve been needing him.

“That’s it, little lovie. You’re okay—hah!”

You’ve never heard sensei gasp the way he does when you roll your hips over his. It’s a strained, weak sound—the kind you’ve never known alphas to make.

He digs wide hands into the squish of your waist. “You’re tight.” His voice speaks directly into your ear as he tucks you into his chest then, scooting back into his trusty (thankfully armless) rolling chair so he can plant his feet and sink you down even closer. He makes light work of guiding your hips, the strength of the strongest shining through as he manhandles you up and down his length like you’re a doll.

And you feel like you’ve got the autonomy of one in his hands—his cock inside your tummy seems to hollow out your thoughts while your legs turn weak beneath you. Your arms remain to cling though, wrapping tight around sensei’s shoulders through your first release on his cock. The warm waves of it shock your system, and you cry out for your alpha when it hits you before he captures your lips in his.

Kissing satoru gojo is different from all your past experiences kissing. This one is so gooey and sweet it’s gross—the spearmint taste of his mouth reminding you just who it is you’re mating with. You flash back to Gojo dropping by to bug your sensei during your apprenticeship—dwelling on the way he’d talk to you like some silly kid. He’d always invade your personal space to tease you for no reason but to see you flustered, not that he needed to—you’d fluster easy just from his handsome alpha proximity, the minty smell of his breath.

It’s gross that such a mature mentor figure’s got you clamping hard on his cock now, tongue deep in your mouth to dull the sound of your whines.

But the disgusting nature of it all has you cumming in buckets—squelching on your sensei’s girth with every pump he guides you through.

You’re barely collecting your senses and drifting back to earth with Satoru pulls you off him, chuckling at the delayed clinging you react with. Of course you’re not strong enough to hold your body to his when he’s rearranging you—as much as you try—you have no choice but to get stripped and molded over Gojo’s fancy mahogany desk how he wants.

You’re still disoriented when he enters you again from behind, shoving himself deep deep deep till you’re so full you feel like choking from the stuffed feeling. It’s almost overstimulating when you just came so intensely, but the feel of your alpha splitting you still pleases your inner omega. More than that, you’re delighted.

“A-ahh! A-alpha—“

You can barely get out a word through his heavy thrusting, merciless and rhythmic.

“What is it, sweetheart? ‘S it feel good?”

Gojo digs thumbs beneath your shirt while he speaks, his anchoring grip around your sides surely leaving bruises. Not that you even notice how tight it’s become—all you have the sense for is his cock.

“Yes alpha! Th-thank you!,”

Gojo fucks you through orgasm after orgasm like that, till every pound against your flesh is wet and sticky.

It’s loud too, and, if you were in your right mind, you might worry about the fact that Gojo’s house keepers haven’t even left for the night yet.

You’ve lost track of your orgasms by the time sensei’s pace begins to show, his massive knot catching in your tight folds till he’s stuck deep inside you, while rope after rope of warm cum pumps you full. You finally feel that fever of yours beginning to fade once you’re flooded like that, coming out of your craze only to be met with exhaustion.

Of course you aren’t really done, sensei’s still connected to you with his knot, you can feel its delicious thickness where your body craved it most when you move your hips to go limp on sensei’s desk. You can feel the flood of his hot cum still streaming into you.

Satoru is panting for the first time in your memory, rubbing the soft skin of your hips while he recuperates before murmuring your name.

Then, “still breathin’, bunny?”

You make a little noise, nodding your head with immense effort, letting your eyes droop.

Only to open again when satoru lifts you with an arm beneath your chest, pulling you back till you’re both seated in his office chair. This way you’re still connected with you on his lap, cum still spurting into your womb.

He fishes your shorts from the ground, then, only to mop up your mess on his table, though truthfully most of it was still on each of your thighs.

At least with his table cleared he can move his desktop closer and finish those mission reports he had left—the solo ones he couldn’t pawn off.

You’re in a half conscious state around Gojo’s cock, breathing somewhat evened out with closed eyes, so gojo leans you carefully against his chest, with an arm on either side so he can type. Sure, the stuff on his computer was technically confidential, but you likely wouldn’t be alert for a while. And even if you were, did the whole classified document rule even apply to you anymore? It’s not like anyone could ask him to keep a secret from you, not now—not when you’re mated.

[ahqkas]

# SWEET LITTLE LIES ; mattheo riddle

❛ tell me sweet little lies ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! mattheo riddle expects to be met with familiar scents of parchment and rain. instead, he's stunned to recognize the fragrance of (name)

WORD COUNT! 2.2k

WARNINGS! none, maybe ooc mattheo since it’s my first time writing for him

NOTES! best read in the true blue mode

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

THE DIMLY LIT CLASSROOM OF POTIONS BUZZED WITH THE SUBDUED MURMURS OF STUDENTS AS THEY TOOK THEIR SEATS, THE SOUND ECHOING OFF THE COLD, STONE WALLS. The weather outside stormed wildly, the winter snow freezing the windows of the castle and covering the land with a white blanket. It was a clear sign that Christmas was coming soon. Maybe even sooner than expected. Flickering torches cast dancing shadows, adding to the room's eerie ambiance. The long, wooden tables were neatly arranged in rows, each one equipped with cauldrons and an assortment of ingredients that glistened in the low light.

The scent of musty parchment and various potions' ingredients lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of damp stone. Professor Slughorn, with his rotund figure and genial demeanor, bustled about the room, his jovial laughter cutting through the tension as he waited for the students to take their seats. His eyes twinkled behind his spectacles as he greeted each student personally with a huge amount of enthusiasm.

As you settled into your seat, you could feel the cool air from the dungeon's depths and outside's snow, a stark contrast to the warm, humid air that rose from the simmering cauldrons. The anticipation was palpable, each student eager yet apprehensive about the complex potion they were about to brew. No potion was easy, after all, and the one before Christmas break was the actual opposite of easy.

Mattheo Riddle slipped into a seat near the back, his expression as inscrutable as ever. You caught his eye for a fleeting moment before looking away, a shiver running down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. The atmosphere was thick with concentration and a hint of tension, as everyone prepared to prove their skills in the demanding environment of the Potions dungeon.

Professor Slughorn clasped his hands together, a gleam of excitement in his eyes, as he addressed the class once everyone was ready to begin with the lesson. "Good afternoon, my dear students! Today, we have a particularly enchanting potion in our hands. We'll be brewing Amortentia! Anybody knows what Amortentia is?"

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room as students exchanged curious glances. Hermione Granger's hand shot up eagerly, and Professor Slughorn nodded in her direction. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

The girl straightened in her seat, her voice confident as she replied, "Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence, sir. It causes a powerful infatuation or obsession in the drinker. However, it's not truly love, but rather an intense and temporary obsession."

Professor Slughorn beamed at her response, pleased with her as always. "Excellent, Miss Granger! Five points to Gryffindor for your impeccable knowledge. Indeed, Amortentia is a potion that has been the subject of many cautionary tales throughout history. But fear not, today we shall handle it with the utmost care and respect for its potency."

As Professor Slughorn's cheerful voice echoed through the dungeon, assigning partners for the upcoming project, you listened with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Names were called, pairs formed, until finally, he reached the one that made your heart skip a beat.

"And for Miss [Last name]," Professor Slughorn announced, scanning the room with a thoughtful expression, "I think it's only fitting to pair you with Mr. Riddle."

A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned towards you and Mattheo. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the unspoken questions hanging in the air. Of course they'd stare, he was the Dark Lord's son. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you exchanged a brief, uncertain glance with Mattheo, his expression unreadable as always.

Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together, breaking the tension with his trademark joviality. "There we have it, ladies and gentlemen! Partners assigned, let the festivities begin!"

When the class dissolved into activity, you couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness that clouded your mind. Being partnered with Mattheo Riddle for a project meant spending more time in his presence, meaning being surrounded by the rumors that circled around him like bees circled flowers. Once people talked, no one could stop it.

And Mattheo Riddle had a reputation of his own to own.

Said Riddle approached your desk with a measured stride, his expression guarded yet polite, never actually showing what was on his mind. He took the seat beside you, and a light scent of cinnamon greeted your senses as you acknowledged each other with a nod.

Clearing his throat, the Slytherin turned towards you, his voice carefully neutral. "[Last name]," he began, his eyes never once breaking the eye contact he held from the start, "do you happen to know what ingredients we need for the Amortentia potion?"

You glanced up from the parchment which contained the names of the ingredients you'd need for the potion, meeting his gaze with a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah," you replied softly, your tone gentle yet confident. "We'll need powdered moonstone, a sprig of peppermint, Ashwinder egg, rose thorns and petals, and some of the pearl dust."

Mattheo's eyebrows lifted, clearly being impressed when you named the ingredients without even having to look at the parchment. "Let's gather the ingredients and get started then, shall we?"

And with that, you began to brew the potion, your movements synchronized as you both worked side by side, each lost in your own thoughts yet connected by the shared task of the potion brewing before you two.

The ambient noise of the dungeon—a blend of bubbling cauldrons and hushed conversations—created a cocoon of privacy around your shared workspace.

You reached for the powdered moonstone, your fingers brushing Mattheo's briefly as he handed you the jar. A quick glance passed between you, and you'd been surprised at how this even happened. You know Mattheo is careful enough to not touch anyone, unless absolutely necessary (doesn't apply to his friends and people he's got a problem with). Carefully, you measured the moonstone and added it to the cauldron, watching as the shimmering powder dissolved into the bubbling liquid.

Next came the peppermint. Mattheo's hands were steady as he delicately placed the sprig into the cauldron, the potion emitting a soft, iridescent glow. His focus was intense, his usual guarded expression softened by the concentration and when his brows furrowed, creating frown lines between them, you couldn't help but admit to yourself he's rather breathtaking when he's not throwing daggers with his glare.

"Just a bit of rose petals left," you said in concentration, eyes following the Slytherin's movements. Mattheo nodded, holding the small vial with care. As he added the final ingredient, the potion swirled, releasing a heady aroma that made your heart race. You expected to smell the familiar scents of home - fresh pine, baked goods, and the flowery smell of fields. Yet, you inhaled a completely different mix of scents, confusing you to the roots. Cigarettes, jasmine, and the strong cologne Mattheo was wearing, along with cinnamon.

You turned to him with a frown etched on your face while your eyes searched his. "Did you try to drown yourself in your cologne today?"

The boy next to you blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the sudden accusation. "What? No," he replied while leaning closer to you. "I barely used any."

"They why do you reek of it?"

Mattheo's brown irises flickered to the potion, then back to you. "I could ask you the same thing. Your perfume can be smelled in the whole classroom."

The cogs in his head started to whirl as the thought about it and for better reassurance, Mattheo leaned above the bubbling cauldron and inhaled deeply, his eyes widening slightly as he recognized a scent that clearly resonated with what he just said. He glanced at you, a mixture of surprise and something deeper flickering in his eyes. For a brief moment, the walls he had carefully built around himself seemed to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that caught you off guard to see.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence he created without any intention. "Looks like we brewed it right," he exclaimed, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unspoken. You nodded, feeling a similar mix of emotions as you looked into the softly glowing pink potion.

Professor Slughorn, who had been making his rounds through the classroom, examining potions and asking students to describe the scents they perceived, finally approached your table. His joyful demeanor brightened further as he peered into your cauldron, a look of pleased surprise spreading across his face as he clapped his hands at the sight.

"Ah, splendid work, you two! This is the best brew I've seen yet," he exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with approval. "Such a perfect example of Amortentia! Now, tell me, Mr. Riddle, what scents do you detect?"

Mattheo hesitated, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he focused on the potion again. He took a deep breath, the familiar and intoxicating aroma washing over him. "I smell parchment," he began, his voice steady, "and fresh rain... and—" He paused, his gaze meeting yours, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. "And a hint of wildflowers, like the ones near the edge of the Forbidden Forest."

Slughorn's eyebrows lifted in delight. "Marvelous! Wildflowers, you say? Such an evocative scent, isn't it?" He turned his attention to you, clearly curious. "And you, my dear? What do you smell?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks under the intensity of both Slughorn's and Mattheo's gazes. "I... I smell the smoke of cigarettes," you said, concentrating on the whirl of scents, "and something soft, like... jasmine, and a hint of something spicy. Cinnamon, perhaps.”

Slughorn clapped his hands together, beaming. "Excellent, both of you! You've captured the essence of Amortentia beautifully. Your potion reflects a deep, personal connection to the scents you hold." He nodded approvingly and moved on to the next table, leaving you and Mattheo in a charged silence.

As the professor's attention shifted elsewhere, you found yourself staring into the cauldron, the shimmering potion a reminder of the truths it had revealed rather than a simple love potion. Mattheo's description lingered in your mind - wildflowers, fresh rain -scents unmistakably tied to you.

Mattheo cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, wildflowers, huh?" he said, attempting a half-smirk but unable to mask the underlying tension.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. "Jasmine and spices... it's not exactly subtle, is it?"

He shook his head, the faint smirk fading as he looked at you, his expression earnest. "No, it's not."

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. The potion had done more than just showcase your brewing skills; it had unveiled the undeniable bond between you neither of you were aware of.

As the class drew to a close, the potion's shimmering surface still held your gaze. Professor Slughorn's praise echoed in your mind, but it was Mattheo's words that truly resonated. The students began to pack up their things, the room filled with the sounds of clattering glassware and murmured conversations.

Finally, as the last of the students filed out, leaving the dungeon quieter and more intimate, Mattheo turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "[Last name]," he began, a smirk playing on his lips, "It's all confusing to me but you can't deny it. The Amortentia—it's not just a potion, you know what it does and what it did."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the flutter of emotions with a playful smile. "Is that so, Riddle? Took a love potion for you to figure out what you feel for me? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one."

Mattheo chuckled, leaning in slightly. "Well, Granger can't be the only one showing off in class. Besides, it's hard to be clever when someone's making it difficult to think straight."

You rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. "So, what do we do now? Have a dramatic confession in front of everyone or keep exchanging sarcastic remarks and piss everyone off?"

"I vote for sarcastic remarks," Mattheo replied with a grin. "They're more fun. Plus, I wouldn't want you to think I'm going soft."

"Perish the thought," you said with a mock gasp. "Imagine the scandal."

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine for the first time you've heard him laugh. It was a new, yet heartwarming sound. "But seriously, [Last name], let's take it one step at a time. No need to rush."

You nodded, content with the idea. "Agreed. Just promise me one thing, Riddle."

"Anything," he said, his tone suddenly sincere.

"Don't drown yourself in cologne again. It's really distracting."

The smirk he spotted before returned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Only if you promise not to spend all your time in the Forbidden Forest looking for wildflowers. It'd be a shame if you got lost."

"Deal," you said, unable to suppress a laugh.

Together, you left the dungeon, the lingering scent of Amortentia left behind you. As you walked side by side, trading jabs and teasing comments, Mattheo's fingers brushed against yours in a silent invitation before he enveloped your palm with his.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 9 || The Professor and His Student

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.9k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——WITHIN THRITY MINUTES, you're back in Gojo's company. Shoko wasn't home when you got to your apartment so there was no one for you to rant to and you were left still pissed off because of Gojo.

Actually, even if Shoko was home, it's not like she knows anything about the list. And you're not sure if you even want her to know anything about the list. It'd be too embarrassing to explain to her how you got yourself in this position so, you really have no plans on doing so.

The most your roommate knows is that last night you went out on a date. She doesn't know that it's Geto you went on a date with, or that you've slept with both of her friends and you'd like to keep it that way for the time being. There's way too much to explain for you to talk to her.

So ultimately, that leaves you alone in your situation. You have no one to talk to about this, no one to cry to about how Gojo is nothing more than a manipulative dickhead, and no one to release the buildup of emotions he's just given you.

The worst part of it all is that you were starting to put the blackmailing aside. You were starting to even like the idea of playing this little game with Gojo where you have to sleep with some hot guys and get paid for it. But when Gojo reminds you that you don't have the luxury of being comfortable in your situation, you just go right back to disliking him.

When the man showed up at your door to take you with him to his class, you barely exchanged any words. Gojo carefully explained the things his professor was attracted to, saying how he seemed like the kinda guy to be into a woman who looks like she needs help but is actually smart.

You asked Gojo what kinda clothes you should wear, resulting in you wearing a short skirt with stockings that hugged your thighs nicely. You felt a little uncomfortable in it, especially with Gojo's eyes all over you as if he you and him didn't just argue with one another minutes ago.

"Stop staring, you don't have that privilege anymore." You spat out to him as you adjusted the buttons on the shirt you wore.

Gojo's at your room door, leaning against the frame like always. "Come stop me from staring." He blurts out.

He's so used to flirting with you that he couldn't even help himself.

You send him a glare, "You're making things worse, y'know."

He knows. But he doesn't know how to fix it and still get what he wants at the same time. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't." You say simply.

Gojo falls quiet, watching as you move away from the mirror and over to your dresser to spray perfume on yourself. The scent makes its way into his nose and he has to bite back the compliment he nearly gives you.

After that, you put some shoes on and walked over to Gojo, looking up at the man with distaste in your eyes. For a minute, he simply peers down at you.

"...Can you please move?" You sigh tiredly.

Gojo doesn't budge. "Can you hear me out for a minute?"

You can't even believe the audacity of this man. "No."

"Please?"

"What is there to hear out? If I don't do this, you'll expose me. What else is there for you to say?" You ask.

He doesn't even know the answer to that question himself. "It's not what you think it is," Gojo says in the softest voice he can manage.

"Yeah?" You scoff, moving to fold your arms at him. "So what is it then, Gojo?"

"I just..." He trails off for a long moment.

You watch as he glances back and forth between your eyes, clearly having no words for you. You can see the clear regret in his eyes but you ignore it completely-- refusing to let yourself be manipulated by any of his looks.

Slowly, you lean closer to him. "You just what? Spit it out." You urge.

He swallows but remains silent, which leads you to roll your eyes at him. You then shake your head and move him to the side, stepping past him and exiting your bedroom.

"That's what the hell I thought. Now let's go." You say with a sigh.

Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth.

He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The walk to his class isn't long once the two of you get onto campus. It was on the third floor, in a section of the school you don't typically go down. You're not sure if you imagine it but you swear that every person you pass in the halls is insanely attractive.

The men, the women, literally all of them. For a moment you wonder if you're in the fashion department of your school based on the looks of those around you. It makes you wonder what Gojo's major is for a second, realizing you never actually asked him.

Your lips part to do so but... what's the point? You no longer care about getting to know the man anymore. Knowing his major won't help you complete this list any faster so, you end up closing your mouth and keeping quiet as you follow him.

When you get to the class, you notice that most of the room is full and Gojo is within the last group of people to arrive.

You're behind the white-haired man so, his professor lays eyes on him before you. You try to appear as inconspicuous as possible and thanks to the department of attractive and well-put-together people surrounding you, you don't stand out much.

Gojo makes a left to head up the stairs toward, what you assume to be, his seat, and you make sudden and direct eye contact with a tall, overly muscular man you swear isn't the professor.

Oh, there's no way in hell that this dark-haired man with a scar on the right corner of his lips is teaching this class. You refuse to believe that the man standing not too far away from you in a button up shirt that looks like it's seconds away from popping off him, is the damn professor.

Surely, you'd expected the blond man you saw in those pictures Gojo showed you to be a teacher. Definitely not this guy.

Those brown, maybe green, eyes of his skim over your entire body in one quick motion, an eyebrow raising the very second he realizes he's never seen you in his class before. In your hands are a binder and a book that you keep pressed against your chest, slightly fidgeting where you stand with the male's eyes all over you.

You wonder if you should say anything but when the large man looks back down at the papers scattered on his desk in front of him, you get the idea that he doesn't care too much about you being there.

With a sigh, you turn and follow after Gojo, quickly arriving at his seat and sitting beside him. Luckily for you, he's in the very back of the room so you get to sit in the corner with him.

You hadn't planned on learning anything today but, here you are, having no idea what you're getting yourself into.

"Gojo," You whisper and he turns to you. "What subject even is this...?"

"Uh, economics." He hums.

You freeze. "You're joking right?"

"I'm not."

"How the hell am I supposed to explain why I'm here?!" You whisper shout at him.

He shrugs casually, "I dunno."

You scowl. "Of course you don't."

Gojo grimaces at himself for his words, "Okay, well maybe-"

"Nope, save it. I'll figure it out myself." You cut off as you organize the few items you brought with you.

He sighs heavily beside you but you ignore the sound.

The class is steady to begin and your heart increases tenfold in nervousness when the deep baritone voice of the professor hits your ears. It was nothing but a lazy 'afternoon everyone' to greet his students as he went to shut the door but for some reason, it made your nerves spike.

As the professor, whose name you end up figuring out is Mr. Fushiguro, began his lecture, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The room was filled with students who so obviously belonged there. You, a psychology major, genuinely have no excuse to be here right now.

Okay, sure, you may have taken an economics class in high school but, that was high school and it was a required course for you at the time. Now, it'll be a bit difficult to explain why you're there.

Luckily for you, you've been in a similar position before. Except, the last time you were in a situation like this, there were real reasons behind it. You had slipped into one of Shoko's classes and attended that class with her for about three weeks straight-- having needed to use the interactions of her class for a report you were working on.

So in this case, you hope you'll be able to do the same thing and pull this off.

With that in mind, you made sure to actually pay attention to the lecture to ensure that you had something to talk about if or when Mr. Fushiguro questions you.

As you did that, Gojo sat beside you unable to pay attention to anything aside from the woman attentively taking notes beside him. He couldn't help but stare at you with his cheek resting against his knuckles, watching the way you were taking real notes on the class.

He gazed at the side of your face, getting lost in his mind as he tried to think of ways to fix things. He wondered if the two of you could just brush over the argument. It's not like he didn't blackmail you before and you guys didn't move on from that.

Or maybe it was just him who'd moved on. Perhaps you're still worried about the situation you were in. It'd only been a few days since it started, not even a full week yet.

Gojo's so busy thinking that he hasn't realized he's still staring at you. When he does realize it though, he doesn't stop. Instead, the male goes on to admire you. This is probably one of the only times he'll get to be near you going forward.

I hate you, the words still echo in his mind. He's so pissed at himself for it. He should've never even done this. Maybe he could've found someone else to go and seduce these people for him, not you-- Gojo likes you.

Wait, he... likes you? Gojo blinks at his own thoughts, wondering if that's what's wrong with him. Maybe that's why he felt these urges to kiss you or be around you or even make you smile and laugh...

He finds himself replaying the events of that morning over and over. It was perfect. To wake up to you kissing him so softly, to have you in his arms all night, and to even bond a little with you without it being about the list.

It was-

"Gojo," You hummed, breaking him out of his mind entirely. Your gaze was down on the paper in front of you as you spoke, "Do you like your eyes?"

His brows pinch together and you hear him scoff a little bit, "Yeah...?"

"Wanna keep 'em?" You question sarcastically.

He blinks, "Uh, yes...?"

You turn your head to him and your voice is low and an agitated whisper, "Then stop fucking staring at me."

Gojo doesn't even look away yet. His eyes remain on yours and the eye contact is intense for a second. He hates to think about it but, you're rather hot when you're mad, as toxic as it is to think about...

The way you're eyes are all narrow and the tenseness of your face is oddly attractive to the man. Under different circumstances, Gojo would've teased you about it like he normally does but, right now, you look like you might stab his eyes out with the pencil in your hands.

Instead of taking the warning you have him seriously, Gojo only grins at you, "Make me." He whispers back, voice teasing.

You glare for a moment, and then you start shaking your head in utter disbelief. "You're an ass."

"An ass?" Gojo chuckles quietly, "What happened to asshole?"

"I might change it to a piece of shit." You say with a shrug as you turn your head away and multi-focus on both him and the lecture.

Gojo tilts his head, "Doesn't that take too long to say?"

"Dickhead." You say simply.

He frowns, "Ehh, doesn't have a nice ring to it."

With a sigh, you glance at him through the corner of your eye, "I'm not gonna play this little game with you."

"Nono, keep going," Gojo pleads, now smiling at you as if he isn't aware that he's only annoying you even more. "I like hearing all the mean names you can come up with."

You roll your eyes at him, "I hope you fail this class."

"Woahh, I need this class to graduate, sweets." He argues, pouting a little bit at your sudden words.

"Enough with the pet names," You sigh. "Hearing anything affectionate coming from you is revolting."

"You liked it this morning."

"That was before you pissed me off."

Gojo smirks, "I do that quite often though, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do."

He hums and inches a little closer to you, "And yet you still hung around me."

"I was forced to." You reply, trying to take notes on the subject ahead at the same time.

"Were you forced to kiss me this morning too?" Gojo says.

That question made you scoff. He definitely pushed all the right buttons with that one, "Were you forced to be born as an insufferable asshole who likes manipulating women into clearing your debt for you?" You question, anger embedded into your tone.

He pauses. The worst part of what you said was that you weren't even looking at him. You said that without batting an eyelash. And it came out your mouth faster than he expected.

Gojo opens his mouth slowly, almost carefully, "I-"

Before he gets the chance to say anything, the abrupt sound of his professor speaking louder is heard. "Gojo Satoru," The professor calls out with an annoyed sigh.

You think you see the hairs on the back of Gojo's neck stand up and you watch as he grits his teeth and turns his head to face his teacher.

"Plan on talkin' through my whole class?" Mr. Fushiguro questions.

Gojo looks immediately annoyed as he shakes his head, the sight of him shut up so quickly almost satisfying to you.

That earns a nod from his professor, "That's what I thought." He hummed, his eyes snapping over to you right afterward.

You swear you were shrinking under the man's gaze, even though he was on the other side of the damn room. It was so intimidating that you just knew he was about to say something to you.

But, he doesn't. It was nothing more than a quick glance, maybe even a warning glance.

You sigh and then peek over to Gojo beside you, noticing how he looks upset now. A smile graces your face as you see the man in distress, it was quite the satisfying sight to behold-- especially given the hell he's putting you through.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The lecture was a full three hours long, something you surprisingly were able to stay awake for and focus on the entire time.

You have a feeling it was the way Mr. Fushiguro taught the class or maybe it was the way he looks. With a face and body like that, you think you could stay awake and stare for hours unprovoked. That has to be the only plus side to the list you're going through-- the fact that everyone is stupidly hot.

As the class finished, you grabbed all the notes you'd taken and wondered if you should just approach the professor yourself. Gojo waited for you to get your stuff together and then you followed behind him to leave the class.

The halls seemed to be pretty busy with how long it took for students to actually leave the classroom and you ended up waiting for people to walk out. This placed you in the back of the group of people, being one of the last to actually exit.

"You," A deep voice suddenly called from behind.

Your head turns back and you meet the professor's stern eyes. He raises two fingers and beckons you to come to him. With a swallow, you nudged Gojo on the back of his arm, silently letting him know that you were staying behind before you turned and made your way over to the teacher.

As you approached the desk, the man stool on the other side of it, eyes daunting and presence overwhelming. He was far too attractive to be a professor.

"Sir," You greeted calmly, "You called me...?"

His eyes scan all of you in front of his desk. Not in a way that seemed like he was checking you out but, more in the sense that he was confirming he's never seen you before.

He nodded toward a nearby seat, "Sit."

You don't know why your spine goes rigid at his sudden command. Perhaps it was the authority in his voice? Or the deep undeniably attractive tone of it?

Slowly, you move to sit down in the seat he's told you to. After that, you quietly watch as he awaits all the students to leave. Once the classroom is clear, the professor takes a seat at his desk and all of his tension-filled focus goes to you.

You were nervous. Ridiculously so.

And it wasn't even because of the situation itself but because of the sexy-ass man staring at you. Okay, maybe this list isn't that bad... especially if you get to interact with people you normally wouldn't.

The man leans forward, moving to rest his arms on the desk in front of him and clasping his hands together. "Well?" He asks, clearly expecting you to just explain yourself.

You instantly look down to your lap, "Uh..."

When you take too long, in his eyes, to answer, you hear the man sigh heavily. "You gonna tell me why you're in my class?" He questions.

You look up at him and take a deep breath, "Yeah, sorry. I'm a uh, psychology major and I have this project coming up soon where I have to analyze large groups of people, preferably in different classrooms, to see how different goals and aspirations differ the actions of people."

That was by far the best and cleanest lie you think you've ever given in your entire life. It's usually not hard to explain just a little bit of your major to people, the explanation alone always brings confusion.

The man blinks slowly, kinda like he didn't understand what the hell you just said. "Okay." He sighs, "Two things. One, what does that have to do with you being here without permission, and two, can you explain that in simpler terms?"

A light smile grows on your face, "Well, I meant to come here before the class started and ask if I could sit through a couple of your lectures to study everyone but uh, I forgot... A-And, in simpler terms, I'm just here to see how certain subjects affect certain people."

Mr. Fushiguro nods his head, pausing to think about what you just told him. He has no reason not to believe you, he's actually had plenty of students do this in the past.

"Psych major, huh?" He asks.

"Yes sir."

"That's uh," He clicks his tongue, "Surprising."

"How so?" You scoff, quick to take a bit of offense.

The man shrugs, "I don't usually get Psych majors in my class, you're the first."

"Oh." You chuckle, "Well, I was also curious about how the economy specifically would alter people's way of thinking."

"Yeah?" You think you see him grinning at you. He appears to be intrigued, "Why?"

"I mean, when you're talking about the economy, you're talking about money and, well," You shrug, "Who doesn't like money? I just wanted to see if that made any difference in the way people think and act in terms of education."

"Right," He nods again, "And what class is this for?"

Shit. "Uhm, sociology." You manage to say.

The male opens his mouth to comment something but he's cut off by a light knock on his open classroom door, prompting both of you to turn your head. Your eyes go wide at the man you see standing there.

Blond, tall, neutral facial expression, and, above all, mouth-wateringly sexy. Good god, where the hell does Gojo find these men? The male at the door is someone you recognize from the pictures.

"Mr. Fushiguro," The blond calls, voice stoic.

"Nanami." The professor in front of you replies, "How can I help ya?"

The man at the door takes a few steps into the classroom, "I had a few questions on the assignment from last week."

Your mind is all over the place at this point. Is this who Gojo was talking about when he said there are two people on the list in the class?

"I might have a few answers," Mr. Fushiguro, whose first name you notice is Toji based on the nearby nameplate sitting on his desk, responds playfully.

You then watch as he stands and walks over to Nanami, your heart spiraling out of control. Spotting two people from the list in one day? It's nerve-wracking.

The two stand not too far away from you and quietly go over something. You pick up on tidbits of their conversation but it's all about an assignment you know nothing about so, there's not much you can do with the information you hear.

Nanami's glance strays over to you for only a second, long enough for you two to make eye contact, and long enough for him to look away. It was a glance of simply acknowledging the fact that you're there-- not even the kinda glance where he's checking you out.

The look he gave you and the one you initially received from Toji are similar, it's like neither of them was even interested in you-

Holy shit.

You think you know why too. The way they look at you is nothing compared to Geto's first glances at you, even though the situation and setting are much different.

That's when you realize...

That asshole Gojo never told you what level of difficulty these men are considered to be.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[dear-tortured-adam]

" 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐲 𝐦𝐞 "

— "your defiance only adds to your allure" ft. lucifer x gn!mc | somewhat suggestive, repost! | i actually heavily don't really like this piece until now, but, I am not putting this one to waste so... yeahh ; wc: around 1.3k!

Your pride was taunting; he hated it.

Lucifer felt himself earn another wrinkle watching you mingle once more with Mammon’s antics. Sat in the dim lit candlelight of his study, his hand whisking the dram of blood-red liquid sitting idly at the bottom of the glass.

He could've just asked for a more subservient exchange student had he known this was how you’d care for him and his brothers. Frankly, he’d swore to banish you off in front of everyone before Diavolo even welcomed you in the Devildom. You were an annoyance: a red herring added to his workload.

His fur trimmed coat had hung to the wooden armrest of the lush velvet seat. With a sigh, he took a sip.

For your schemes were admirable to the point that they were terrifying.

Lucifer spat out his drink, slamming the glass atop his desk while he wiped the residue off his lips. The distinct 'clang' echoed through the room, slicing through the heavy silence that had settled like a thick fog.

Breaking his chain of thought was whatever random concoction replaced his most expensive set: sour with a bitter aftertaste that hadn't left his tongue.

“That human…” was all he could muster, swiftly taking and clutching his fist around the glass. 

The liquid inside appeared normal, catching the light with the same glistening shimmer as always. But as he lifted the it up to his nose, he recoiled. What should have been a fruity aroma was reeking off a rancid odor of a burnt mix of spices, diluted in burgundy and million's grimm worth of demonus.

It was not amusing in the slightest.

He stood there, cursing himself for being foolish enough to fall for a stupid prank. The sound of slow, deliberate clapping filled the room, each clap a taunt. A provocation. His bloodshot eyes snapped to the source, his rage intensifying at the sight.

There, sitting on his velvet chair with the stance of an unamused audience member, sat you. A subtle grin spread across your face, fully taking in the satisfaction of yet another prank. You remind yourself to tally this off to show the others — your ideas were simply astonishing, after all.

“You should’ve smelled it before drinking it,” you spoke nonchalantly. Popping a cherry grape into your mouth.

Lucifer could only look in your eyes as  your expressions got more smug. "Do you find this entertaining?" he hissed, cursing himself.

"Favoritism is not a good look, hm?"

The avatar lowers his taking, stepping closer towards you. "And you hate my preferences?"

"I've hated you," you shrugged, eating another grape. "Past tense."

You really were annoying; worse that your words never made an ounce of sense. He supposed it's with how his own pride was wounded in the process, as he watches you lack even a hint of remorse for your actions.

"You're despicable."

With a hum, you bat your eyes at him. "Do tell."

Truly, 'despised' isn't a proper word to describe this situation. Whatever happened during the discourse instead shifted into a more compromising position.

You looked back at him, mockingly expressing your disdain for his discipline turned sultry remarks. Even if he pretends not to be so, it is certain how he plays favourites with his human. 

If anyone were to make this plan, they would've never lived to tell the tale.

You smirked, sarcastically saying, “You, sir, will not taunt me any longer!”

No one could deny the taunting tinge of royal blue that swirled within your irises. It's adorable how you took pride in your actions even if you were trapped between him and the velvet chair, though you couldn't deny that it wasn't from a stroke of ego.

Your words were stubborn, but the face you focused solely on him with a half-lidded gaze as you took note of his features. Dark hair framing a sculpted face and deep, red eyes that beckon you into giving in to his sin.

As Lucifer caught sight of your longing gaze with an enchanting expression of love, a rush of warmth coursed through his veins.

Flustered.

He couldn't help but curl up a smile, mirroring the affection that danced within his heart. The depth of the human’s gaze had enraptured his attention, a meek challenge if it came from anyone else. He couldn’t resist the small yet tender laugh, whispering his voice softly for his darling to hear. He rarely ever does that, only saving it for more special moments. 

"For someone with a lack of discipline…" He trailed off just a bit as he smirked. "You… your being makes me feel like the luckiest man alive."

“I thought you liked being the one in control?”

He finds your comment amusing, trailing his finger along your jaw. His gloved hand feels as soft as leather can get. Lucifer’s red eyes locked into yours, he stood at an intimidating height. A hand resting on an armchair, leaning closer towards his precious human. 

"Ah, my dear," he spoke, his hand lowering from your face, taking the grape from your hand and eating it.

How sweet — as sweet as what any fermented liquor aspires to be. After that, he tries to mask his ever growing admiration, but his words couldn't suffice for the ever growing blush that adorned his cheeks.

"Don't be such a fool.” Lucifer’s words had an edge to them. As the authoritative man he is, the way he spoke in an assertively gentle tone felt softer. This was no longer an act of hatred nor, authority, slowly shifting to an act of newfound adoration for this human.

You looked at him with a puzzled expression, only able to tilt your head as he barricaded all forms of movement. The human was stuck in his grasp, at his very mercy. Though while your gaze held a lovestruck pool of hearts, it stayed strong. Determined.

Not once faltering your authority. Lucifer finds it endearing how such a little human could greatly embody his sin.

“Though I must say,” the fallen angel leaned closer as he had you trapped between him and his velvet chair. You looked so enticing, feeling small under his intimidating stature.

To him, you were simply enchanting. Your recklessness was a nag to his schedule but your presence wasn't unwanted.

Never unwanted. 

For in his eyes, blue suits you best. He admires how his sin started to waiver as your gaze gets flooded with stars. Lucifer only wishes to savor the moment, softly kissing the corner of your lips.

"Your defiance only adds to your allure.”

For all pathetic moments, you showed him more than typical kindness. You've felt his gentle caresses like soft butterfly kisses, a finger gently running across your jaw. The kiss felt feverish, swirling his tongue in the cage of your mouth.

His other hand settled on your waist as he leaned towards you — inching his body closer, knee deep between your legs. Lucifer couldn't help but deepen the kiss. It was ecstatic. He’s had many experiences with kisses in the past yet none can ever compare to the soft feeling of your lips against his.

Lucifer lets go of the kiss with a small pant. He never thought a mere human would be the one pulling his heart strings. Granted, you were his and his only; but ever the lovestruck demon, he was willing to flip the script.

To bow under servitude for you. That smile is something no amount of control can ever muster.

Your pride felt electrifying — he loved it.

check out my masterlist! | divider by toadtoru [<3]

[fonteyn]

sweet lips like pink lemonade (when he's feeling generous he'll give me taste)

Pairing: Michael Gavey x afab!reader, no use of y/n. Warnings: Smut. Minors do not interact. +18 rating. Read on AO3.

Author's note: So. this isn't as much of a proper fic, it's more of a fever dream headcanon I had to write down.

*Images are purely for their aesthetic sentiment and not reflective of any particular descriptions of reader inserts.

**nobody look at me. enjoy!

Word count: 1.6k.

It was a Friday like any other during the Oxford term. Students flooded every bar near the campus, drinking their weight in beer with fearsome abandon, trying to forget how exams were getting closer and closer and the grades they needed to recover to make it through to the next year.

You, though, had been getting used to a different kind of normalcy. 

Soon enough, your boyfriend of a few months would arrive to hang out in your room. He'd always bring the food and, in exchange, you'd offer him tales of your week along with the easy intimacy you had found in each other as of late. 

This time, when Michael Gavey arrives at your dorm room, he finds you lying belly down on your bed, reading a book for one of your classes and just. Freezes. Already flushed and embarrassed and yearning for you. 

It had been a long week. With exams approaching, he barely saw you other than in two quick visits you paid him at the library, on which you pecked him on the lips, talked for less than five minutes, and were soon forced to leave or else you’d risk being late for your next class. During weekdays, he tried to remain laser-focused on his tasks, so much so that he sometimes forgot to eat as he got through endless papers and exercise lists. On the other hand, every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel a larger-than-life, disgusting, and too-big want for you, distracting him from everything else. 

He knows you like him, especially given that you made a point to reassure him about it so often. He thinks you might even love him at some point. 

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but think about how you’d react if you knew the truth. 

That what he felt was more than simple affection, an easy enjoyment of your company. 

What he felt was overwhelming and all-consuming, keeping him up for hours at night, heart racing thinking of your smile, planning ahead conversation starters and factoids he thought would be interesting to you, marveling about the increasingly easy ways you showed affection.

How your hand would reach to touch his knee under the table at dinner. The times you’d hide your nose on his chest, hugging him to protect yourself from cold weather. The times you’d position yourself behind him and massage his neck when you knew he had been studying for hours without ever so much as getting up once. You always managed to break his focus with minimal effort. 

Tonight, when he lays eyes on you, he is once again flooded with that overwhelming greed, accentuated by how you are wearing just one of his 'math pun’ shirts which you took home with you after spending the night in his room a few weeks prior. He fails at not staring, but the hem is hitting your thighs at the absolute perfect length so he can have a peek at your panties.

He lays down by your side, pretending not to be bored. And frankly, he didn't stand a chance. From the moment he saw you, he was aware of his cock growing hard. You innocently think he's just going to keep you company while you finish the last chapter of your planned reading for the night and then you can hang out together.

But. It's nearly impossible to focus when you can feel his gaze burning on your ass. He barely makes a sound, however soon enough you feel the warmth of his fingers starting to trace the hem of your/his shirt. And soon after, he touches the edges of your panties. Unknowingly playing with your emotions as he grazes a finger just underneath the elastic and then retreats. 

He keeps doing this for a few minutes, still silent, eyes closed, almost like he's meditating. You're stuck, trying to read the same paragraph over and over, without absorbing a word. 

"These are cute", he says, quietly. 

An edge in his voice, and before you know it, it's as if something in him snaps. He moves to his knees. 

He's got his hands massaging your ass and his nose gliding on the back of your thighs, leaving kisses here and there, so soft you can barely feel. Just enough to make your body stand alert, preparing for his next move. 

Despite this, any awareness goes out of the window because you simply don’t expect him to shove his nose right there in your clothed pussy from behind. Mouthing on your lips, kissing and licking and moaning against you until you don't know if your panties are wet from his saliva or your juices.

And though you want to drop everything right there and then, you can't. Through strokes and licks and moans he manages to say: “No, no, baby. Just keep reading, don’t mind me.”

But he doesn’t stop or grant you mercy, as his hands spread your ass to give him more room to continue kissing your pussy through the fabric of your panties. Pausing only a couple of times to bite the curve of your ass, or take in your scent. 

One of the many things you loved about Michael was how shameless he allowed himself to be in adoration of your body. How openly he wore his hunger for you. With clear infinite want.

You can tell his hips start rutting against the mattress as he worships you. And you are breathless, wanting just as bad to feel him without any barriers between you. 

He stays like that, kissing your panties, running his nose across your clothed pussy, humming and biting the delicate skin of your butt cheeks until you finally have enough and decide to beg.

"Mikey, pleaaase, put me out of my misery, take off my panties, honey." 

Never in your life had you whined like that to a man. And it strikes you like a bolt of lightning that the only one who managed to drag anything like that out of you was this skinny nerd with a big dick and an unawareness of his unbeatable head game.

When he hears your voice, he finally raises his head, as if he’s coming out of a ‘pussy drunk’ trance. He seems only vaguely aware of everything else. His sole focus for the past half hour had been enjoying your body, feeling your skin, smelling you, locked in an unbelievable dreamland of "I can't believe I get to do this, I can't believe I get to have you".

As soon as he hears you ask, he immediately, and clumsily, pulls down your panties and dives his tongue straight into your core. Adding quickly, two long fingers inside you. And you're nearly crying because as much as that feels good, it's not what you want. You want more. You need more. 

"Baby, please just give me your cock.", you’re almost sobbing.

His brain nearly short-circuits. He gets up, stumbling, dizzy with desire, and before he can grab a condom, your hand shoots out to stop him. Holding his wrist.

He eyes you, surprised. Stunned by how disheveled you look, with pupils dilated, quick pulse, and a wild look in your eyes.

"Just take me raw. I wanna feel all of you."

He could have died right there and then. 

Michael manages to, somehow, climb back in your bed, noticing how you put a pillow under your hips and now you're presenting your ass, prettily and ready. Pussy glistening to take him. 

So he does. 

Pushing his leaking cock inside you, where you hold him tight. Clenching in a way that has him nearly seeing stars. He needs to stop for a moment. 

He still wasn't very experienced, and if he was going to last at all until he could make you cum, he needed to recite pi on his head a couple of times to calm himself down.

So he leans down and presses kisses along your neck and your jaw, delighting in how you whimper, crying out in desperation. He leaves a trail of kisses down your back until he feels ok enough to start fucking you.

By this time, you have turned from nearly crying to whining and moaning, to finally begging him to move. When he starts fucking you, it's as if all is good and right in the world, and you bask in a surreal notion of Michael and you just fitting together in an impossibly perfect way.

He keeps pumping inside you, and he can tell he's closer to coming than you. He's getting louder, unable to quiet the effects of having your tight pussy clenching and squeezing him. Michael knows he's nearly done for and, in a desperate and instinctive moment, uses his thumb to gather some of your wetness, bringing it up to softly massage your hole. And you cum instantly . 

So hard it makes him shoot his load inside you for what it feels like forever.

He finally collapses on top of you, feverish from it all, heart beating so fast it's threatening to jump out of his chest. But you manage to move underneath him, turning your body to face him.

You feel flushed, cheeks burning with embarrassment from cumming this hard and in this particular way. So before Michael can say anything that will inevitably be somehow a mixture of awkward, shy, and arrogant all at once, you hold his face in your hands and pull him towards a kiss.

Your lips appreciate the soft press of his own, still wet partly from him licking his lips, and partly from eating you out. Your thumb traces his stupidly perfect cupid’s bow and jawline, nearly getting yourself in a trance, much like he was when he first started this whole thing.

Finally, your eyes meet. Michael still has that wild, ravaging, and all-consuming gaze, now mixed with the distinctive look of satisfaction. It would be overwhelming if you didn't know that you were looking at him in the same way.

"So, that was good... right?, he asks. 

And all you can do is smile and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

A/n: I have one final point to make. Michael Gavey IS the type of guy who will take your panties home after the first time you hook up (probably a handjob in the bathroom of a bar where you are both slightly inebriated and you smile as you stuff your panties in his pocket, thinking that you're soooo funny for doing that and bringing out a priceless look of his face). And he WILL masturbate with his nose pressed against them afterward. AND he WILL tell you when you ask, because of course you ask and he CAN'T for some reason lie to you. His face and neck flushed with embarrassment unaware that if it were anyone else you'd find it creepy but because it's him, you think it's the hottest thing ever and you give him a blow job right after he admits to that.

[mochatsin]

When MC can Draw (Dateables Version)

Drawing and the arts is one of the things you’re most passionate about. There’s a lot of things, and certain demons, that are out there to give you inspiration to draw. How will the dateables react when they find out you’re a great artist?

Wow my first dateables version of my prompts. Hope i’ve written them all well. This version is requested from my tumblr :0 thanks for reading!

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Diavolo

Diavolo took notice when you saw your eyes lingering among the paintings during your tour around his castle. There were portraits of prominent figures from Devildom, from old kings to spearheads that shaped their history. He explains how there’s one royal painter for every royal king, thus the similar styles in every portrait. Since you’re an exchange student then it’s essential you learn about these demons, and Diavolo is happy to tell their tales for you. 

He was taking a stroll around RAD before going home when he spotted you in the school’s gardens, seemingly preoccupied. He wanted to call on you but he was more curious to see what you were working on. Diavolo watches you closely from a distance, afraid that you might hide from him if you spot him like how the others do.

To his surprise, he saw you working on a portrait of him in a style that’s similar to the ones he’s shown you. The way your eyes lingered on those paintings when he toured you around before, it clicks to him now that you were trying to study the art style itself as well. It’s almost identical, but with your added personal touches to make it unique.

His towering size doesn’t hide him very well when you immediately spot him at the corner of your eye. The pillars don't do justice to how large Diavolo is as a demon. You try to conceal the art you were making, it’s embarrassing when the subject of your art is actually a few feet away from you. But he quickly smiles as he walks over to you. Now that his cover's blown, he definitely wants to see everything up close now.

“I didn’t mean to be rude and spy on you like that. But you don’t need to hide anything! Even from a glance I could tell you’re talented. Would it be alright for me to see what you were working on?” You can’t really turn down such a polite request, but you most certainly can’t turn down the volume of his voice that’s booming with excitement as he flips from one page to another.

When you finish your portrait of Diavolo, expect it to be treated like a national treasure. A beautiful artwork of the young prince made by the human exchange student? It deserves the best frame that Diavolo can get his hands on. Expect Barbatos by your door the next day with high quality art supplies. He’ll treat you like one of the finest royal artists to ever live in Devildom.

Barbatos 

He invited you for some afternoon tea at the castle as thanks for lending him a hand in his duties the other day. Though there were some other matters around the castle that Barbatos needed to attend to, he asked for you to stay put first and help yourself to some of the treats he had prepared beforehand. 

You always admired the intricate designs of the tea set Barbatos always prepared whenever you came over. Since you’re a bit bored, you took out your sketchbook and decided to draw the fancy little tea cups while you wait for Barbatos to come back. 

The tea sets that Barbatos prepares always have beautiful pattern designs that range from dainty floral prints up to sets that look more expensive than the Mammon’s weekly bills due to how much the patterns are embedded in gold. If you look closely, you could probably spot little devils on it and it’s cute in its own way.

Little did you know he’s been actually observing you for a while now. He finished his last minute duties rather quickly since it would be rude to keep a guest waiting and that’s when he spots you keeping yourself busy by drawing, your glance going from the tea set to the paper. He wanted to admire that look you have whenever you concentrate for a little bit.

He lets out a small chuckle which gets your attention, a gentle smile on his face as he approaches you. “You’re quite the talented one, aren’t you?” Barbatos says as he takes a seat next to you, glancing at your sketchpad. “Maybe you can tell me more about your work while we enjoy some tea together?” 

Barbatos wouldn’t push for you to show anything, but he’ll be happy once you do. He’s impressed at how well you can make patterns that range from something simple to ones that have intricate details. He likes how you can make a portrait of the tea sets he’s been preparing, and secretly he grabs his finest sets to see if you’ll be inspired enough to draw it as well the next time you visit. Maybe he can also pull some strings to put your own pattern designs onto an actual tea cup and serve it to you next time. 

Simeon 

Sometimes you go to Purgatory Halls to get away from all the constant nagging and chaos of the demon brothers. It’s nice to find that peace and quiet you needed to do your daily tasks or just laze around since you felt like it.

Simeon lets you stay in his room for today while he tries to focus on writing for his novel. He plans on introducing a new character soon and since he trusts you, he starts talking about the character itself. How they compose themselves, what they’re like, the possible role they’ll play in the story, you get all these details before the chapter is even written.

Once he’s done talking he lets you get back to whatever you were doing while he continues trying to figure out how to write the next few parts. Though he soon hears the sound of scribbling pens and wondered if you were doing some homework? He could’ve sworn you were done with those already.

He turns around and to his astonishment, you were sketching the character he was just discussing with you earlier. Given his detailed accounts of the character, you were able to design it well. It’s an understatement to say Simeon is happy. He is ecstatic. You brought this character to life in just a matter of minutes all for him, and that brings Simeon more ideas on how to proceed with writing. 

“You never told me you actually knew how to draw. Your talent at visualizing is exceptional.” Simeon would listen carefully while you talk about your journey to the arts and how you honed your talents while he looks through your other works. Afterwards, he starts to praise your art like a professional critique, telling you what he loves in each work.

His heart skips a beat whenever he finds your old works that’s dedicated to his novels. Learning that you’re also talented with the pen like he is, just in a different element, makes him feel a little bit closer to you. If you’re not busy, he may ask for your help when it comes to visualizing something he’s having a hard time with. He’ll treat you to something nice as thanks!

Solomon

Being Solomon’s apprentice means that there are times he’ll require you to assist him with his research. There’s a few spells and potions that he wants to work on, though they all require a lot of preparation work. You both agreed on doing a bit of divide and conquer on those tasks so that it won’t be too time consuming to finish. 

You managed to do a lot of chores for him which is quite tiring, though Solomon is grateful for your efforts and he has one last request from you which he said is essential to the potion he’s making. There’s a delicate Devildom flora that Solomon harvested recently, and you have to make sure the flower stays fresh because it can wither very quickly if not taken care of and the potion would fail if that happens. He’ll take it off your hands once he’s done preparing everything else.

Normally, one would’ve kept it in a vase full of water and called it a day. Though you decided to not only put it in a vase, but draw up a summoning circle that would keep it fresh. It’s something that you learned from Solomon’s notes, and the sorcerer is astonished you drew the circle so accurately enough to work on your first try when he came to check up on you. 

“Now how did my little apprentice actually manage that so quickly? That would’ve taken me several tries to get the patterns done.” Solomon says with an amused smirk, staring at the circle in awe. Getting one line wrong would’ve instantly killed the flower but right now, he sees that not only is it very much alive but it looks more vibrant than ever. The magic is more potent, Solomon is sure that any potion he makes with its petals would be very effective.

While he was waiting for the potion to boil over in the cauldron, he decided to learn more about this hidden talent of yours. He makes you draw some summoning circles from one of his books, already starting out on the difficult types to draw. All of it is perfect somehow since you’ve had a history of drawing, so your hand is quite steady and you act like it’s no big deal. Solomon will definitely want to see your works in the future.

“A lot of sorcerers can cast magic, but not everyone has the talent to make summoning circles as quickly and accurately as you do.” That’s big praise coming from humanity’s strongest sorcerer. Though that means he’ll want to exploit that talent and call you over every time he needs it in his experiments, it’s a win for him either way because he gets to spend more time with you. 

Luke 

There’s a new event in Devildom where the angels and you were teamed up to open a stall that’s focused on selling sweets and pastries. Luke appreciates your input when it comes to taste testing his sweets since none of the demon brothers are able to give proper critiques like you can, Simeon tends to be a little too nice to Luke, and Solomon is never allowed near the kitchen. Ever. 

Your company is always welcomed and Luke would gladly add any of the sweets you recommended onto the menu. You always come back to the House of Lamentation with a bag full of samples you both baked that day, which always brings a smile to the brother’s face. 

You come back to Purgatory Hall only to find Luke seemingly having a dilemma. He reassures you that it’s not because of the batch of sweets and pastries since you helped him perfect the menu. It’s the fact he needs to make a logo and design for the stall. If it can’t attract any customers then all the effort you both put into baking this would go to waste. 

You sat down with Luke to brainstorm with him, watching the angel stare blankly at the paper with frustration while you ask him for what ideas he’s already had so far. Luke had to go back to the kitchen to pipe some frosting on the cupcakes, though by the time he came back you were already done with the sketch.

Luke is awed at the design, seeing as how you incorporated both his and your idea for the stall in a way that still blends well together. “Y-you’re incredible! How’d you do that so fast though? You know what, let’s show Simeon first!” If Luke had a tail, it would be wagging from sheer joy. He’d be so excited to get the decorations and paint for the stall that he almost forgot about the cupcakes in the oven. 

By the time the stall is finished and running, Luke would definitely flaunt your talent not just for helping him bake but for also designing the stall. “You like the design? They did that!” He would say with an excited grin on his face before pointing at you. Luke enjoys working with you that you both barely notice the brothers getting jealous over the amount of time the angel gets to spend with their human. 

[nostalgicacademia]

Dark Academia Writing Prompts

A group of students stumble upon a hidden portal to a faerie realm in their college library. They slowly return from the faerie realm, corrupted.

A student uncovers a hidden society within the university's classics department. They are preserving an immortal being who used to be worshiped as a minor deity by the Ancient Greeks.

A secret society of faeries attend an Ivy League university, keeping their identities a secret. 

A love letter exchange unfolds between two strangers who communicate solely through notes left in the university library. However, if they ever discovered each other's true identities, the romance would break, and they would be horrified.

A mysterious playwright's lost manuscript is discovered in the dusty archives, revealing a dark and twisted tale that mirrors real-life events on campus.

A cellist sacrifices everything, even their morals, to join an elite orchestra. It's the pinnacle of their career. However, they left one string untied, and it threatens to expose everything they did.

A professor's death sparks an investigation that reveals a web of academic rivalries and betrayal. At the heart of it all is a plagiarism case.

A history major begins to unravel a murder that happened 100 years ago on campus. 

A witch disguises herself as a professor in the occult studies department, using her position to recruit students for a secret coven. 

A psychology professor uses hypnotic techniques to explore the past lives of students. During the hypnosis sessions, a student reveals something awful that their past life did. Something that's had a profound impact on the professor. 

A cursed painting in the university gallery comes to life at night. The characters within it seek the help of a talented art history major to break the spell. They work together to uncover what dark forces made this happen in the first place.

A professor's fascination with ancient folklore prompts a mischievous faerie to seek their help. The faerie asks them to help unlock an ancient riddle. The professor does it, fuelled by academic curiosity, but this turns out to be a huge mistake.

A group of history students uncover evidence of a witch trial that took place on campus centuries ago. One of the victims shown in the painting bears an uncanny resemblance to a current professor. As they investigate, it becomes clear someone’s trying to stop them.

A student journalist investigates a series of mysterious deaths linked to an exclusive literature club. The murders seems to be drawing inspiration from works of literature.

A rivalry emerges between two aspiring poets who will sink to depraved acts for the coveted position of poet laureate. They'll do anything to get that prize, including murder.

By: schoolofplot

My articles on Dark Academia:

Dark Academia aesthetic

The imaginary of Dead Poets Society

The Secret History a key fandom

[tikosblogg]

Can you do something along the lines of the guys aren’t famous and the reader starts college and Meets the guys through the nicks and Noah is a senior in college and you go to a party and you and Noah hook up

Summary: REQUEST

Warning: smut, unprotected piv(please don’t do that), semi public sex(you don’t get caught).

A/N: I hope you enjoy anon, I’m sorry if it’s cheesy af😭 I have a lot going on right now, but I wanted to get this out. Yall please send good vibes my way, your girl could really use it. Still waiting on the news I should be receiving soon. Fingers crossed 🤞🏻 that it’s good.

The energy of the campus was electric, vibrating with the laughter of students spilling out of dorm rooms, the music pulsating from frat houses, and the sweet smell of late-night smoke sessions lingering in the air. It was Saturday night, and despite being a newcomer, I felt the charm of this vibrant chaos tugging at me. Just a week into my freshman year, I was anxious but excited. Nick, my best friend since childhood, had convinced me to join him for what he called a “rookie initiation" to campus life.

“Trust me, y/n, you need to experience this!” Nick exclaimed, winking as he led me through the labyrinth of brick buildings and manicured lawns toward The Alpha Sigma Beta house, where the party was already in full swing. That was where I first spotted Noah.

He was hard to miss. He towered over the crowd at a staggering six feet three inches, with tousled brown hair that framed his perfect face and skin entirely adorned with intricate tattoos. Each inked design hinted at a story, a part of his past I found myself curious about, but tonight wasn’t about probing deep into anyone’s history; it was about enjoying the moment.

“Y/n!” Nick’s voice broke through the thrum of bass. “I want you to meet my friends!” He gestured toward a trio huddled at a table stacked with red solo cups. Folio, the energetic one with wild hair, and Jolly, whose laugh was infectious, immediately pulled me into their banter with wide smiles.

“Welcome to the mad house!” Folio shouted, practically bouncing on his toes. “You’re in for a ride tonight.”

As I exchanged pleasantries and settled into the familiar chaos of my first college party, I kept sneaking sidelong glances at Noah. His presence was magnetic, like gravity pulling me toward him in a crowded room. He seemed laid-back as he leaned against the wall, a half-empty cup cradled in his large hand. I wondered what he thought of the evening; his dark brown eyes held secrets as deep as the ocean, and I felt a pull I couldn't explain.

“Don't be shy! Come sit with us!” Jolly called over the music, dragging me toward a makeshift seating area strewn with mismatched lawn chairs. Nick settled next to me, and I found myself increasingly drawn into the whirlwind of laughter and stories.

As the night progressed, shots were downed, and the atmosphere thickened with excitement. Folio attempted to teach me an elaborate dance move that was probably illegal in some states, while Jolly told exaggerated tales of his exploits over the summer. I laughed along, feeling a small part of the group grow more comfortable, and yet I could still feel Noah's gaze cut through the exuberant noise.

By the time I managed to sneak away to the kitchen for some water, I stumbled upon Noah, who leaned casually against the counter, his tattoos glimmering under the fluorescent lights. A muffled bass line formed a backdrop against our unexpected solitude.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and deep, sending a thrill through me. "You’re Nick’s friend, right?"

I smirked as I turned to meet his gaze, slightly flustered. “Guilty as charged. And you must be the infamous Noah.”

“Infamous, huh? I like the sound of that,” he chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. There was something easy about him, and the way he looked at me made the world outside that cramped kitchen fade into the background. It was just us and the faint glow of the overhead lights.

“I’m still learning the ropes here,” I admitted, feeling a mix of shy and emboldened. “It’s all pretty overwhelming, if I’m honest.”

“I get that. Just take it one party at a time,” he said, stepping a little closer, his eyes now twinkling with mischief.

An electric charge filled the air as I caught the faint scent of his cologne—something earthy and warm that made my knees weak. I reached for my cup of water, only to find it empty. Noah noticed, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a sly grin.

“Can I get you something stronger instead?” he proposed, tilting his head toward the red cups that were now overrunning the counter.

"Just one,” I replied, testing the waters—there was something about the anticipation of this moment that made it feel like we were the only two people in the universe.

As he poured the drinks, we fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. We laughed at the absurdity of frat life, traded stories from our tumultuous school years, and marveled at how different life felt here compared to our respective hometowns. The longer we talked, the more I found myself leaning into him, our chemistry igniting in the cool kitchen that now felt too small for the two of us.

“Let’s get some air,” he suggested, reading the gleam in my eyes. He opened the back door, and suddenly, we stepped outside into a world transformed by moonlight. The music pulsing from the house faded into the background as an acrid breeze swept through the courtyard.

We wandered off to the edge of the yard, away from the thumping bass and the throngs of people. The stars hung low, brighter than I had seen them before, painting the sky with constellations that felt almost within reach. Noah leaned against a tree, his imposing figure softened by the spectral glow above us.

"You know," he began thoughtfully, “there's something nice about nights like this. You meet people, you share stories… it feels timeless.”

I nodded, feeling every word resonate deep within me—like a truth unearthed. “I’ve been waiting for something like this ever since I got here. It’s everything I hoped college would be so far.”

He stepped closer, and my heart raced. “You’re different, y/n.”

“Different how?” I dared to ask, curiosity compounding against the tether of nerves.

“There’s an aura to you... that I can’t put my finger on. You’ve got this spark,” Noah said, his voice a low whisper as he gazed down at me. The way he looked at me sent chill bumps dancing along my skin.

Before I could respond, he took a step forward, lowering his head until our lips nearly touched. Time slowed to a crawl, and I could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he searched mine. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he closed the gap.

His kiss was electric, igniting a fire that surged through me. I responded instinctively, feeling a rush of warmth enveloping us both, a collision of breaths and uncertainty melting away in that instant. I lost myself in the moment, the weight of the world outside dissipating, leaving only the two of us amid the stars.

As we pulled apart, my laughter filled the night air, a soft, happy sound that echoed into the quiet. He leaned in again, gripping my hips tight.

I gasped against his mouth, the kiss turning passionate as it deepened. I was on fire, limbs igniting with every stroke of his lips. And then, just like that, he pressed me against the oak tree. I could feel the rough bark against my back, grounding me amidst the rush of adrenaline coursing through me.

In one swift motion, he picked me up, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. My sun dress, scrunching around my hips. The height difference sent shivers of exhilaration through me as I gazed into his eyes, now alight with a wild, exhilarating energy. I felt both cherished and untouched by the lively party around us, suspended in this magical bubble we’d created.

“Noah,” I breathed, a mix of nervous anticipation and thrill threading my voice. The way he held me, strong yet careful, made me feel untouchable. His hands cradled my thighs, and I could feel the powerful smoothness of muscle beneath the inked stories that adorned his skin.

“You trust me?” His breath was warm against my skin, the promise of adventure sparkling in his gaze. And in that electric moment filled with infinite possibility, I nodded and surrendered to the rush.

As we kissed, the world around us blurred—the laughter, the thumping of bass, the clinking of bottles—it all faded until there was nothing left but the two of us, lost in our own universe. I could feel his hard dick pressing into me, the rhythm of him grinding against my soaked underwear clad core igniting an unparalleled heat inside me. The urgency of it all sent waves of pleasure rolling through, and I could hardly catch my breath.

“Fuck” I murmured against his lips, my head spinning with the sensations, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.

“I know.” A teasing grin spread across his face, his breath hitching with excitement. “You’re so fuckin pretty.”

I quirked an eyebrow, the thrill of boldness flooding my veins. “you think so?”

“Definitely.” He lowered his voice, close enough for only me to hear. “I wanna feel everything fucking inch of you.”

There was a challenge in his eyes, one that made me want to climb higher and lower myself into the depths of this enchanting night with him. And beneath the oak’s ancient boughs, among rustling leaves and whispers of a sleeping world, I felt a warmth bloom in my chest—a daring desire to unleash the parts of myself that I often kept hidden.

I clung to him tighter, sensing the urgency of the moment. I wanted to taste the thrill of life, to dive deeper into the unknown while being shielded in his embrace. He kissed down my throat, before moving his hand up, and shoving his fingers inside my panties.

I gasped as his middle finger swiped up my slit. “Noah please.” I whined, my head falling back against the tree. He quickly looked around, to make sure we were hidden behind the tree before continuing. He shoved his two middle fingers deep inside me, as he groaned.

“You’re so tight baby.” He nipped at my neck, as he pumped his fingers a little faster. He pulled them out, shoving them into his mouth letting out another moan. “Fuuuuck, I’m definitely eating your pussy later.”

I let out a breathless giggle, as he reached down to his jeans pulling out his impressive length. My eyes widened. “Holy fuck Noah.” I groaned, losing my patience to finally feel him inside me. He smiled, kissing my lips softly. “Shhh I got you baby.”

He lined himself up, slowly pushing in as we moan in unison. After a few soft thrusts of his hips he moved his arms underneath both of my knees spreading me wide open, pushing me harder against the tree. He left one last kiss to my lips, softly biting my lip, as I moaned into his mouth.

He shoved his face into my neck as he thrusted harder, and faster into me. My nails dug into the back of his neck, as I relished in the pleasure he was giving me. “Fuck Noah please…” I gasped.

He pulled his face back, laying his forehead against mine. “You gonna cum baby?” Unable to find my voice, I nodded my head quickly. He let out a breathless chuckle, at my messy state. His lips hovered by my ear, his deep voice softly whispering.

“Then do it…let me feel you.” That was all it took for me to absolutely lose it. I came hard, my thighs shaking in his hands, whimpering his name over and over. “That’s it baby, good girl.” He groaned, as he watched me come undone.

He continued thrusting, chasing his own high. He quickly pulled out, holding me tightly against him as he came all over the tree underneath my still shaking form. After we caught our breath, he pulled me away from the tree gently placing me back onto my feet.

He tucked himself back in, before pulling my dress back down into place. All of sudden I became shy and nervous. “Shit…that was -“ his voice quickly cut me off, as he eyed me hotly. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

I smiled, stepping closer to him, and looking up at him batting my lashes. “I don’t know….you tell me.” He chuckled, placing one last kiss to my lips, before taking my hand walking up back to the party.

[fiyaa-xoxo]

Theres something different about receiving a handwritten letter......

✧˚ · .Spring has sprung as the NCR students walk through out the NRC campus. With spring here and the flowers blooming, and most important of all valentines day right around the corner. NRC launches lockers for students to anonymously give someone something for valentines day. Surprise, Surprise the prefects locker was the one with the most letters. Lets see what some of them wrote, will u find out who wrote what?....

From: A crimson flower...

My Crimson Rose,

In this whimsical realm where time dances to its own curious tune, I find myself enchanted by the notion of Happy Unbirthdays and the delightful chaos that ensues in the shadow of the Queen of Hearts. It is within this peculiar Wonderland that our paths have crossed, and my heart, typically bound by the rigidity of rules, has succumbed to the joyful mayhem of your presence.

Oh, how the tea parties unfold in blissful disorder, each cup raised in celebration of the nonsensical day that is every day but one! The Queen of Hearts, with her regal decree and whimsical demands, presides over these gatherings where laughter echoes like the most harmonious of melodies. In the mirthful company of jesters and creatures, our souls intertwine, and the rules of reality bow to the capricious whims of Wonderland.

As the Queen commands the cards to paint the roses red, I am reminded that the essence of love in this fantastical realm is as unpredictable as the ever-changing hues of Wonderland's flora. In the intricate dance of courtly affections, I find myself waltzing with you, my partner in this splendid, topsy-turvy masquerade.

From: An Inky Dealer...

And so, my heart, once bound by the rigid laws of reason, now surrenders to the whimsy of Wonderland and the joyful rebellion that accompanies it. With every unbirthday tea party we share, I am reminded that true happiness lies not in conformity but in the enchanting chaos of love.

To my Siren,

As the currents of fate weave through the whimsical waters of Twisted Wonderland, I find myself drawn to you like a siren's call echoing in the depths of the Monstro Lounge. In this ocean of magical mayhem, your presence is a beacon that lights up the darkest corners of my heart.

The glittering allure of Ursula's domain mirrors the shimmering depths of the feelings that swirl within me. Much like the ebb and flow of the tides, our connection resonates with a rhythm that transcends the ordinary cadence of everyday life.

In the enchanting embrace of the Monstro Lounge, where secrets are exchanged like treasures and laughter dances upon the waves of conversation, I am captivated by the spell you cast upon my existence. Ursula's wisdom echoes in the whispers of our shared moments, and I am reminded that love, much like the sea, holds depths yet to be explored.

So, let this letter be a testament to the enchantment you bring into my life, a tale woven with threads of magic and mystery. In the embrace of Ursula's sanctuary and the symphony of the Monstro Lounge, my heart finds its rhythm in harmony with yours.

From: The oasis in the hot sands...

Dear, sunshine

With the boundless energy of a desert breeze, my affection for you grows, and the tapestry of our shared moments becomes a mosaic of joy and laughter. Your smile, a treasure more precious than any gem in the sands, illuminates my world with unparalleled warmth.

In the vibrant oasis of love, I find solace in the melody of our shared laughter and the dance of our dreams under the twinkling stars. With each passing day, my heart beats in rhythm with the magic you bring into my life.

So, let this be a simple testament to the love that blossoms like a desert rose within my chest—a love as boundless as the endless sands of Twisted Wonderland.

From: A loyal knight

My dearest Everglow,

Amidst the tapestry of my own existence, I pledge my loyalty to you with the same unwavering devotion that I offer to the illustrious Malleus Draconia. To serve him is an honor, and in his guidance, my loyalty becomes an intricate dance—a choreography of duty and affection.

In this realm where loyalty is both a shield and a key, my heart beats with the rhythm of a promise made not just in service but in love. Your understanding gaze, a refuge in the labyrinth of obligations, is a testament to the deep connection that transcends the boundaries of duty.

So, let this be a tender acknowledgment of the magic that binds me to both my fae heritage and the loyalty I extend to you and Malleus—a love letter written with the ink of allegiance and sealed with the embrace of my heart.

Writers note: Hello everyone! Were u able to find out who's who? Let me know if u want more writings like this!

Requests are open!! ^^

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

20 minutes of my life I'll never get back. 🤦‍♂️

I must be a glutton for punishment because I actually watched Kinsey Schofield's 20 min interview w/Valentine Low. May this rant save you from making the same mistake:

Valentine Low & Kinsey Schofield just reminded me that the British press is in desperate need of a grief recovery workshop to let go of their palace manufactured PR image of Sparry, "the CONSERVATIONIST," and accept the REALITY: Sparry has ALWAYS been a member of the lost boys who never intend to grow up. He loves drugs, perverted soho house sex play pens, and living a secret lifestyle in San Francisco, CA. As we saw in the South Park Documentary, Sparry has always wanted to be left alone so he can just bang on his drums all day.

The British media needs to accept that they never knew the Sparry aka Prince Harry. Much like Fergie & Andrew: The Meghans are two (2) intellectually below average individuals who married in haste. Both their academic & professional work histories indicate that these two (2) immature adults, lack even the basic skills necessary to function in society without the help of a PR "machine" whose job is to clean up their messes and repeatedly rebrand them into more acceptable members of polite society. It's past time for Valentine Low and other UK journalists to admit that they never really knew Sparry. All their Diana goodwill should now be invested into the future of the BRF (the family of Prince William)

No amount of hoping for the best or "covering up" for Sparry's misdeeds can transform the moral rot in his character. They bought and sold the PR image manufactured by the palace. It was the paparazzi & other "undesirables" who had the misfortune of observing the REAL Sparry. They watched him mistreat drivers, security, staffers, etc long BEFORE he was seduced by MEgain.

V Low believes Sparry flew a helicopter! 😳 Come on! Too many REAL service members have spoken out about Sparry's military character and performance and there's nothing good about it.

Sparry, like his wife is also a liar and a bully. He's not intellectually bright, he never was... He even bullied his grandparents before the "spectacle," he bullied Meghan's father...we heard reports about seeking a left wing wife and his interest in living in the US----all before MEgain.

Low also thinks Sparry loves his children. Has Valentine Low ever seen the invisibles? No. He's transferred a PR image to a couple of never before seen kids and their so called father. A so-called "father" who is willing to destroy his brother's children (and the innocent children of other couples) through the spread of destructive lies, has zero interest in the REAL wellbeing of anyone's kids, least of all his own.

As for the Wife: her ability to earn a college degree as an American teenager/young adult without even the offer of an ACADEMIC scholarship means that she too is mediocre and overrated. Her university commencement program states that she was a candidate for a degree in "communications" NOT some whip smart area of study like biochemistry or engineering! 🤦‍♂️

As a university student, thanks to her dad's brother (mike), she spent a measly six (6) weeks in Argentina on an exchange program (paid by her father) until she failed an exam that would have allowed her to apply for (real) jobs in the States. An intellectual or any hard worker would have studied until she passed the test. Not Rachel Meghan Markle. If no one was willing to make an exception for her low marks, then she would whore her way up a series of ladders until she found someone dumb enough to give her a platform.

No, this is NOT a "smart" couple. This couple is a cautionary tale about how Water seeks it's own level: Sparry's mother and teachers did him a disservice, just as MEgain's father did her a disservice: SPARE the rod & SPOIL the child

Kinsey believes that MEgain is "smart" because she achieved a Duchess title. (What does this tell us about Kinsey's IQ. 🤦‍♂️😳)

MEgain became a "Duchess" because she was a professional "seductress" employeed by Markus Anderson & Soho House. Everything this couple achieves is smoke & mirrors based on TRANSACTIONAL relationships where they bully & harass anyone standing in their way.

They don't even possess good work ethics, let alone above average IQs. Please call a spade a spade (or in this case a spare a spare) and stop gaslighting the public about what Sparry could have done had he not been involved with the wife.

We watched the wife verbally abuse KP staffers over bereavement flowers and feckless Sparry stood by in AGREEMENT. Wicked queen Jezebel 2.0 and traitorous king ahab 2.0. Let them go!

[usetheeauthor]

COMING SOON WIP⚠️

Planning to write for Cooper Howard because he’s my current hyperfixation whom I cannot for the life of me get out of my head and need to write for him or I won’t ever be able to write for any other characters I love or have WIPs for. So this came to me inspired by the 2009 movie Chloe starring Amanda Seyfried, Julianne Moore, and Liam Neeson and the Manhwa “The Emporer Is Hard To Please” By Jeongha but of course it’s my own spin on these tales. This is going to be filled with angsty drama, tension, lots of pearl-clutching smut, and twists. P*rn with heavy plot. Barb is just as much a character in this because she’s a fucking babe.

This is only a draft but here’s what I have in store so far!! Lemme know what yall think 😬

…..

Mr. Howard’s So Damn Hard To Tease (MDNI+18)

Pre-War!Cooper Howard x Virgin!Fem!Reader, One-Sided Barb Howard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Barb Howard hires you to seduce her estranged husband, Cooper Howard, because —despite their separation—she wants him to have that fire in him that he’s losing throughout the ugly divorce process. In exchange for any success with bringing him out of his funk, Barb promises you an acting gig; something you’ve fought tooth and nail to obtain. Unfortunately…Cooper proves to be a lot harder to tempt than you could have ever imagined.

Warnings below the cut ⚠️

Tags/TW: Age Gap (Older Man, Younger Woman), Acting Teacher x Student, Sugar Daddy!Cooper, Sugar Mama!Barb, HEAVY SMUT, HEAVY ANGST, Dark!Yandere!Reader, Bondage/Toys, Daddy Kink, Innocence/Corruption Kink, Sub!Reader/SoftDom!Cooper, Loss Of Virginity (Bloody), Spit Kink, Degradation Kink, Mentions of Erectile Dysfunction due to declining mental health, mental Dacryphilia, Scratching, Biting, Hair-Pulling, Stockings/Socks Kink, Choking, Wrist Watch Kink, Big Dick!Cooper, Unprotected sex (p in v), Anal play, Nipple Play, BDSM (Master Kink), Pet names (Bunny), Teasing!Mean!Reader, SoftCore-PS!Reader, Oral sex (m and f receiving), Creampie, Breeding Kink, Reader has tragic backstory, Mommy/Daddy Issues, One-sided feelings (Barb x Reader), kissing including (girl on girl), Public Sex, Spanking, Fingering, doggystyle, mating press, full nelson, missionary, cooper is a freaakk, voyuerism/cucking (Barb sees a vid of a steamy sesh with you and Coop), masturbation (m and f), no good people in here except for maybe Cooper, Some Violent Situations, Fallout Lore-Divergent but with some elements of Lore and much more!

[anikasheep]

The sheep we adore so much is change, but we still love them

I love imagine how the brothers pampered MC SO MUCH

i love imagine how the royals, the angels, and our fucking teacher ALL PAMPERED MC.

They said demon would corrupt human's soul.

Remember that Thirteen said that Solomon's soul is different but still shining?

MC is the similar case.

Their soul is the shining pink sheep shape, but their their ribbons which has a bell on it, is the wool white one with the black radiant.

I believe that the ribbon was the wool white color, so why the color changes?

They're corrupted by the demons.

They're pampered by the angels.

They're spoiled by Solomon and Thirteen.

The demons, well, they all encourage MC to express what they want, what they desire, what they wish for.

Lucifer rewards MC for their hard work, he enjoys the petting when only he and MC alone. But what he did the most was let MC throw a small tantrum to them.

The eldest brother believes that if MC never throws a tantrum at him or the other brothers, it means they are treating them still wrong. He gives MC the PRIVILEGE to show anger with him. Still, he seldom sees MC angry and kind of disappointed with the failure.

The Avatar of Pride doesn't know that MC cares the trust of him the most in their relationship.

MC values themselves as the one who Lucifer trust enough to take care his brothers and share his burdens. They realize how busy Lucifer is so in the most situations, MC would forgive Lucifer if he lose his temper or being too harsh when he's too busy to take a break.

And that's the reason why MC gave NB!Lucifer silent treatment when they found that Luciferr use the apple to test them.

Sort of, what Lucifer want to see in original timeline, NB! Lucifer got and he finally could use Barbatos's cake to apologize to MC.

Apologize for those misunderstandings when they were the human exchange student. Apologize for failing to protect them. Apologize for that his pride couldn't allow him to open his heart to them fully. Apologize for that he would love them even though they're not related to Lilith, but the selfish part pushes him to decide that HE CAN'T LET YOU GO.

Mammon showers his love on MC in three ways: gifts, fortune, and his time.

Earrings, necklace, watch, and bags, even his treat to have dinner in Hell's Kitchen or Ristorante Six, as long as MC wants, Mammon would try to fulfill their wish.

I believe that the more Mammon loves MC, the more fortunate MC is. OUR ADORABLE SHEEP would use their fortune to treat the brothers and their other friends. But if they only use the fortune to treat Mammon, they'd get more.

Mammon is a clingy demon, that's right MC. Mammon wouldn't admit that, but all his crow familiars would watch over you in three realms. The crows recognize you as Mammon's most precious. This means all crows have the obligation to protect you and chase the thieves away.

Remember those rumors you heard from the other students? Some demons were attacked by a flock of crows? If you ask who are the victims, you might feel strange. Cause the crows attacked those demons who made you upset before.

And do you still remember those demons' names who confessed to you? Have you noticed they would followed by a few crows after that even though you rejected them? If not, let me ask you a simple question, MC. Did you ever meet any of your suitors again?

Lucifer scolded Mammon for that event, but the Avatar of Greed just shrugged. The two oldest brothers kept this secret only between themselves, and Lucifer didn't punish Mammon for this event.

He loves teasing, especially to those newbies. He had spun you so many stories to cover the true intentions that he needs your money.

He knows you are rarely mad at him, but NB! Mammon doesn't know that you adopted Luke as your litter brother or son technically. As a result, you're furious when you know he spins a tale to Luke that you're a bad demon who loves eating children.

Let's say that NB! Mammon is frozen when he hears you gritted his name like when Lucifer is angry.

"Maaaaammmmmon....!"

The brothers are terrified and admire your angry sheep form, they watch in awe and ekk when you use the "STAY! BAD DOG!" AT LEAST THREE TIMES on Mammon, Mammon has to lie on the ground for an hour.

Since that day, the whole Devildom knows that the sweet attendant of the 7 rulers of the Underworld is ONE OF THE MOST CAN'T BE BOTHERED.

I always thought that MC would warm up to Solomon slowly, they love Solomon, but the feeling of the distance can't get rid of somehow.

Until MC was dragged to the NB timeline and Solomon is the one who came through the time for them. Solomon might not see that but I believe that MC is SOOOOO TOUCHED by this.

A man came to you even though he has to jump through the time? How romantic (*/ω＼*)

Living together means a lot to humans, Solomon finally got his key to be closer to MC. They share the domestic chores, greeting at least twice and MC would nap on the sofa while Solomon reading.

Solomon knows that the brothers and the royals spoiled MC with high-quality gifts. Clothes, make-up products... you name it.

But Solomon also knows that MC has a sweet tooth that they can't refuse a dessert. That's why he loves to queue up for popular desserts. The time of getting in a long line is worth it if that means he would see MC's eyes light up and their adorable smile.

Solomon may be the mischievous and mysterious sorcerer he is, and he could be a strict teacher involved in magic. But he actually is soft and makes MC feel safe.

The unspoken feelings of being related as a human and the living proof that MC belongs to the original timeline build a bridge, which leads MC to show more emotions around Solomon. That's why MC would use cold words when they were teleported by the bubbles or angry with Solomon for being too late to start their movie night. And the ways the fantastic three roasted Solomon is funny hehe.

MC feels equal to Solomon, though they can't be sure whether it's because of how Solomon is or it's the result of Solomon always wanting to make humans equal to the other two realms.

But MC can tell him what's on their mind. They know that Solomon would hear it and find a way to get the best of both worlds.

MC cuddles with Solomon before they bid good night. And sometimes they'd just fall asleep.

Solomon never woke them up, he used his coat to cover them so that they wouldn't catch a cold.

After Solomon finished his papers or study, he would teleport himself and MC to his room and snuggle with them before leaving a forehead kiss.

[oepionie]

—"LA CRONE ACADEMY" A TRAGIC TALE OF ROMANCE, PASSION, AND A GREY CAT MOST FOUL!

SYNOPSIS: As part of a unity mission, various mage colleges around the world have teamed up to hold exchange programs. One of the colleges involved is LA CRONE ACADEMY, an all-girls school for aspiring witches.

Housewarden Y/N is one of the students picked to participate in the program. An awkward girl, she's never had much experience interacting with boys. Who knows what'll happen once she steps foot in a school like NRC?

— ♰ PREVIEW (AO3 LINK)

"I am the headmaster. My name is Eris Gothel, or as the students call me—Madame Gothel. I would like to extend my warm congratulations to you all for getting into La Crone academy. As your admission letters have stated, we are one of the top educational institutions which provide magical training to young women, such as yourselves."

Turning back round to the table, she gracefully takes a cup in her hand and holds it up for everyone to see. "This is the sorting cup. It shall sort you into your respective dorms."

"...Now my dears, where here shall fate take you?"

—TAGLIST:

꒰ ♡🧷: if you want to be tagged for this work, comment here!

[pumpkinsareamazing]

Michael \(//∇//)\

Michael who is a powerful force, but all of that crumbles at the sight of one human.

〜 Michael who clearly had some opinions about the exchange program, worried about how Simeon and Luke would do down in the Devildom.

〜 Michael who it’s happy to find out that they are doing fine..in fact, they had even met the human exchange student..

〜 Michael who mostly asks Luke about you, wanting to learn more about this human.

〜 Michael who intrigued about you, you seemed to be reckless..but sweet.

〜 Michael who stares down at the letter he revived from Simeon, Did Diavolo seriously let you live with the seven sins?! Was he insane?

〜 Michael who shapeshifts into some lower level demon..although he hated it, he needed to see you for himself.

〜 Michael who very happy about how bright your soul is…nice and shiny like a diamond.. He does notice the small patches of blue, gold, orange, green, pink, red, and purple..

〜 Michael who desperately wants to know what makes his brother so infatuated with you, what part of you makes him so curious??

〜 Michael who finally decides that he didn’t want to feel alone, he needed someone— anyone to stay by his side…

〜 Michael who fills your dreams with gorgeous views of the Celestial realm his voice filling your ears as he tells you tales and stories.

〜 Michael who convinces you that being with him is much better than being down there, don’t you miss the sun? The fresh smell of grass and flowers?

〜 Michael who formerly requested Lord Diavolo that you visit him the Celestial realm, over and over.

〜 Michael who ends up keeping you, spinning some story about how you ran away during a visit to the Human realm, you were so scared of being eaten, you had no idea how you’ve lasted so long..

〜 Michael who treats you with so much affection, he’s so glad you decided to stay, isn’t it so much better here?

Click me for original post!!

[forthetwins]

george weasley — mischief managed: a love tale.

you and george sat comfortably together on a well-loved sofa at hogsmeade at three-broomsticks, surrounded by friends seeking your wisdom. it had become a common sight for your friend group to turn to you both for advice.

however, it hadn't always been this way.

once upon a time, you and george were simply part of the same friend group, sharing laughs and creating memories like any other hogwarts students.

it was a gradual shift, one that took everyone by surprise. somewhere along the way, the two of you had grown closer, your friendship blossoming into something more.

to your friends' amazement, you and george had become a couple, your relationship the envy of everyone around you. it was as if you had unlocked a secret to happiness that others could only dream of.

"how did it happen?" your friend curiosity bubbled over as she leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with intrigue.

you exchanged a glance with george, a soft smile playing on your lips. "ah...i think it all started with a game of exploding snap," you began.

george chuckled, nodding in agreement. "we were paired up for a match, and let's just say things got a bit...heated," he added with a playful grin.

one of you male friends raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "heated, you say? care to elaborate?"

you laughed, shaking your head at his curiosity.

"let's just say there were a few sparks flying, both on and off the cards," george replied coyly.

"you two are like the perfect couple," one remarked, her voice filled with sincerity. "it's like you were made for each other,"

"it just feels right, you know?"

george smiled, his eyes meeting yours with a look of unwavering affection. "absolutely," he agreed, "i wouldn't want it any different,"

and as you all sat together, surrounded by laughter, everyone couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected journey that had led to this moment.

for in george's arms, you had found not only a partner but a best friend, a confidant, and a kindred spirit.