#that EVEN SO. like. were they expecting for him to... stop? to slow down? to give up his overwhelming fame to get them back?
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em-ontv · 1 day ago
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Need some space — d.w.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader
Summary: Dean could never keep his hands off of you, latching onto you whenever he could
Content: fluff, established relationship, clingy/touch-starved Dean, not proofread, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!
Word count: 912
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Dean was a lot of things—sharp-tongued, reckless at times, stupidly brave—but you hadn't expected "clingy boyfriend" to be added to the list.
Yet somehow, here you were, flipping through dusty books with his head in your lap, eyes half-closed like an oversized housecat. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch, clearly uninterested in the research you were trying to get through.
"Dean," you sighed, nudging the book away from where it almost brushed against his face. "How am I supposed to read with your giant head in the way?"
"Don't mind me, sweetheart." he mumbled, eyes closing and voice bordering a purr. "You're doing great. Keep it up."
You gave his forehead a flick, earning a dramatic groan. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand but refused to move an inch. Instead, he stretched his legs out further, making himself even more comfortable.
"Seriously? You're not even gonna pretend to help?" you glared at him. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you started flipping through some books too."
"Helping," he said lazily, cracking one eye open and giving you a smirk. "Emotional support."
Without waiting any further, he reached up, took your hand, and pressed it to his head. Your fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, and he melted under your touch like butter on a hot pan.
When you stopped and started to pull your hand back so you could flip a page of the book, he let out a pathetic whine, pushing your hand back against his head, like he’d die before letting you go.
"You're such a baby. I have to get this done before Sam comes back." you muttered, squishing his face between your fingers, making him pout.
"Cut it out," he grumbled, frowning up at you, though the way his frown dissolved when you laughed said otherwise.
"If you're not gonna help, you're not gonna complain either." you said, and he retaliated by kissing your wrist, peppering soft, warm kisses all the way up your arm.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. Dean's touchy-feely tendencies had only escalated since you started dating. Take the case last week, for example.
You'd been interviewing a witness at a diner, trying to keep your questions subtle and professional. Dean, however, had other ideas.
"So, you're saying the lights flickered just before you heard the noise?" you asked the frazzled waitress.
"Uh-huh," she nodded, glancing nervously between you and Dean.
Before you could respond, his hand found its way to the small of your back. Not a casual graze either—nope—it was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers curling just enough to make his presence known. You froze, shooting him a warning glance, trying to shrug him off, but he was already leaning in closer, the picture of shamelessness.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "You're doing amazing. Keep it up."
"Dean," you hissed through a forced smile. "Go sit down."
"What? I'm just keeping an eye on you," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The poor waitress looked like she wanted to crawl into the freezer.
And then there was that time in the library when you'd been deep into research, scanning page after page. Dean had sauntered in, plopped down next to you, and proceeded to rest his chin on your shoulder while humming AC/DC under his breath.
"Keep reading, sweetheart. I’m comfy." he murmured when you tried to shoo him off, knowing he'd just distract you. His arm snaked around your waist, and before you could protest, he was already pressing slow, feather-light kisses along your jaw.
Or the night you snuck into the kitchen for some quiet time with a PB&J. Five minutes later, Dean appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked half-asleep, his brows pinched in sleepy frustration.
"What are you doing?" you asked, mid-bite of a PB&J.
"Couldn't sleep," he said, padding over to you with a frown. "Why'd you leave?"
"Dean, I was gone for five minutes."
He made a noise of dissatisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling lazily into the crook of your neck. "Come back to bed with me." he muttered, his voice soft and heavy with sleep.
It was ridiculous. The same tough-as-nails hunter who'd taken on demons, monsters, and literal death couldn't go five minutes without missing you. But as much as you teased him for it, it brought a certain warmth to your heart.
Because for all his bravado, Dean was just a guy who'd spent most of his life terrified of losing the people he cared about, loved. His over-the-top clinginess? It was his way of making up for lost time.
"Alright, fine," you said, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich and dusting your hands off.
He grinned—smug at first, but it quickly melted into something far softer. He let out a content hum, nuzzling closer.
"Right now, please." he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.
"Alright, just don't fall asleep on me in the middle of the kitchen." you said, rubbing his arm, leading him back to the comfort of your shared bed.
Under the covers, Dean curled up against you, his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried in your neck. His breath was gentle and even, warm against your skin. Just before sleep took him, he murmured faintly, "Love you, sweetheart."
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autumnsvixen · 1 day ago
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Damaged - part 1
next
Azriel x f! reader
When the high lord sent Cassian to Ironcrest to recruit females to train, he was never expecting Cassian to bring something, or someone, back.
Word Count: 2093 Warnings: misogyny, violence, blood, use of knives, physical abuse, this is taking place in an Illyrian war camp so read with caution. I'm serious, it gets pretty dark and violent.
A/N: this is part one of a slow-burn Az fic I have in the works. I know you don’t see much of Az here, but I promise it is coming. And it will be well worth the angst wait.
masterlist || request guidelines
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You stood by the training mat, eyes fixed as you were entranced by the male in the ring. His moves were graceful as he handled his sword with a precision you’d only seen in the birds that dive to the nearby lake as they hunt their aquatic prey. He swung towards invisible enemies, cutting them down with ease. As you watched him, you could only wish you could one day carry yourself with the same easy danger as he did. The males in the camp barely spared him a glance, and those who did had looks of disgust and anger on their faces.
Your trance was broken by the harsh sound of your brother’s voice, “Y/N, stop watching that bastard play pretend and get back inside. Shouldn’t you be washing my training leathers?”
Your shoulders stiffened as you moved your eyes from the training ring to the snow-covered ground below you. You mustered out a small, “apologies, I was meant to be fetching water for the wash. I just got distracted.”
He inched closer to you, the smell of sweat and grime pulling a gag from your throat that you swallowed down. His tone was quiet but harsh, “if I ever catch you looking at that brute again, I will show you what a real male can do with a sword.”
Your breath hitched, but you nodded obediently, running off to fetch water from the well on the outskirts of camp.
As you were pulling the bucket back up towards you, you were once again frightened by the sound of a male voice behind you, “I know you were watching me earlier.”
Your heart quickened as you turned, the bucket shaking in your hands, “I didn’t mean to offend you, sir, I apologize.”
The male with the long dark hair smiled softly at you, “no need to apologize. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to train with me tomorrow. You’re the only one here who seems like a worthy mentee.”
With wide eyes, you looked up at him fully, taking in the red glow of his siphons and the rich hazel of his eyes. “I would love that, but I am far too busy with my chores and my brother wouldn’t like it if I were to forego them to train with you.”
He stepped closer to you, a kind softness in his eyes, “If it’s your brother you are worried about, I can ensure you I will protect you from any backlash you might face.”
If only he knew what kind of backlash your brother had been known to give out. You shook your head, “I know that you and your high lord have imposed your laws about female training, but it is still strictly
 discouraged in this camp.”
He looked angry at your words, an expression which faded into pity as he took in your trembling form. “If your brother has a problem with you training under his general, I will gladly speak with him. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”
“All due respect, general, you won’t be the one facing the brunt of his anger.”
He rolled his shoulders back, “then let me teach you how to defend yourself against him. He won’t hurt you while I am here.”
You hesitate, knowing you truly wanted nothing more than to learn how to fight, how to protect yourself against the males who had threatened you throughout your existence. He sees this and continues, “if you decide you want to take me up on my offer, meet me in the training ring 2 hours before dawn. That way, your brother won’t even know you’re gone, and you will still be able to complete your chores.”
With a respectful dip of your head, you breeze past the war general with the bucket still in your hands.
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You don’t meet him in the ring the next day, or the following day. Despite the longing you felt to train, you couldn’t overcome the fear of your brother’s anger. It was in the early morning of the third day, as you stood by the dish basin in your family home and watched the war general train through the window, that you decided you would join him. You had only meant to be distracted for a moment, allowing yourself a glimpse of his routine, but you had been entranced once again. Your brother had caught you staring, anger coating his eyes.
With a hot hand, he grabbed your arm and spun you around, the dish falling from your hand and into the tub. His other hand met your throat, squeezing tightly. “What did I say about watching him train, little sister?”
Your eyes were wide with fear as you struggled to breathe, body frozen in terror. Your brother brought the hand not on your throat to your hip, sliding under your shirt so you could feel the cold metal of a blade against your skin.
You tried to speak, to apologize, but the grasp on your neck was too tight to allow any noise to leave your mouth. The sharp sting on your hip brought tears to your eyes as he carved a long line across your stomach. It wasn’t deep enough to seriously wound you, but you knew there would most likely be a scar.
He smiled wickedly down at you, bringing the bloodied knife to your cheek. He swiped it across your skin before leaning close to your ear, hot disgusting breath hitting your skin. “Now be a good little sister and clean yourself up. Then get back to work.”
The grip on your neck disappeared and you gasped for breath, holding onto the edge of the basin behind you for stability. As you regained your composure enough to grab a nearby rag, you made your decision. No matter what, your villainous brother would find a way to hurt you. The only thing you could do for yourself was learn to fight back.
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You had hoped that Cassian would be pleased to see you in the early hours of the morning the next day, but you were instead met with a look of concern.
“What happened to your face?”
You shrugged off his question, “you told me you could teach me how to defend myself, right?”
His mouth morphed into a grimace as he took in your week appearance, the inflamed pink mark across your cheek. After a few moments, he nodded, “I hope you’re ready to work.”
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You found that, despite the bruises and soreness that had made their home on your body, you enjoyed Cassian’s training. He pushed you enough to help you grow, but not so far that you would regress into the fear that had consumed your entire body throughout your life. He respected your boundaries, and never asked you to explain when you would show up to train with new cuts along your face or arms.
But any fool could tell he was furious about them. You had made it clear you wouldn’t talk about them and that you didn’t want him interfering, and he was too scared that you would stop coming if he did. Out of anger, or because you would be left in a state so poor you’d be unable to train, you both weren’t sure.
One day, the two of you had gotten distracted, and training had lasted just a bit longer than it normally would. As you were heading off the training mat, you caught a glimpse of your brother’s watchful eyes through the window of your cabin. They held an icy fury, and you knew what was to come as soon as you got home. You thought to ask Cassian to accompany you, but knew that if you didn’t face your brother now, it would only be worse later.
To your surprise, your brother said nothing as you carefully entered the house. You watched him warily, as he didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You quickly changed into your household clothes before starting quietly on your chores, jumping at the sound of the front door slamming shut as your brother left for the day.
The entire day, you were on edge. Chores had taken you less time than normal due to your anxiety quickening your hands. You were on your way to the market to trade the coins your brother earned as a blacksmith for meats and new gloves for him, as he had requested, when you were stopped by three looming figures.
You recognized them as your brothers friends, males who had come around to your home to get drunk with your brother and make gross, degrading comments towards you as you served them. Then, their eyes had been filled with lust and entitlement. Now, they were filled only with rage.
“Your brother said you’ve been training with that bastard general.” One of the males said.
Another spoke, “weak females like you don’t get to train.” He reached out to grab your shoulder, pushing you to the cold, hard ground.
“If you think you’re strong enough to fight like us males, why don’t we test out your skills?” The third one spoke as fear washed over your body. You pushed yourself up to your hands so you were sitting, looking up at them.
The second male’s foot made contact with your side as he kicked you harshly, sending you back to the ground. Though you had been training with Cassian, he had only been helping you build muscle and endurance, not to fight. Not yet.
Another of the males swung his legs on either side of your waist, pinning you underneath him. His hands wrapped around your throat, cutting your oxygen supply off. You struggled underneath him, trying to bring your knees up to harm him, but another of the males stomped on your ankle before you could.
A splintering pain traveled up your leg at the impact, bones cracking underneath his foot. You tried to cry out in pain, but no noise would come out.
The lack of oxygen was causing your vision to go blurry, hands scratching at the male’s to loosen the grip around your throat. He obliged, but you quickly realized it wasn’t from your pleading. His friend passed him a dagger, which he swiftly brought to your neck.
“C’mon little girl, didn’t your bastard teach you anything?” His voice was filled with disgust and anger, his breath reeking of ale. Your heartbeat was a swift and constant thud in your chest, echoing the fear you felt.
A scream left your lips as he plunged the dagger into your chest, just under your collarbone. You could nearly feel the blade scrape the bone as it entered you. You tried to push him off, but the other males placed their feet on your arms, keeping you locked into place. The male on top of you took his free hand to cover your mouth. “Hush, good girls don’t scream.”
Tears poured from your eyes as he removed the bloodied dagger from your chest before swiftly bringing it back down again, this time into your side. You screamed against his hand, the pain overwhelming you.
He continued his ministrations, plunging the blade into your middle, avoiding your heart and lungs narrowly, but not caring about anything else. You lost track of the pain, mind and body going numb as you let the frozen fear take over you.
At some point, it stopped. You would later vaguely recall a flash of red and the sound of men in pain, but in the moment you could barely remember your own name.
A male kneeled over you, concern in his hazel eyes and long hair brushing against your face. You groaned out of instinct, not pain, when he picked you up, your head lolling to rest on his shoulder as he took off.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me,” he said harshly to you over the roaring of the wind in your ears. You vaguely recognized that you were flying, a feeling so instinctual yet so unfamiliar to you, despite the large wings on your back.
The next things you remember happened in flashes. A dark male with bright, violet eyes taking hold of your hand, a castle surrounded by balconies and arches, a soft bed and warm hands spreading magic throughout your body, your bones clicking back into place, and a dark figure who seemed to be more shadow than fae.
It was him you thought of as the same darkness that surrounded him filled your vision and you were overtaken by a dreamless sleep.
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etheraltides · 14 hours ago
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BITTER SWEET á„«á­Ąàż”
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader
Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.
Warning(s): substance use, cursing.
A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and support with this story. I’m pretty sure there’ll be around 4 more chapters before it’s over <3! You can find the previous chapters in my masterlist
˖ ᥣ𐭩 âŠč àŁȘ ౚৎ˚₊ Chapter four: Midnight talks ˖ ᥣ𐭩 âŠč àŁȘ ౚৎ˚₊
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A heavy warmth rested against your side, pulling you from sleep. At first, the sensation was comforting — the faint weight of an arm draped over your waist, a steady rhythm of breath near your ear. But then reality trickled in, and your eyes flew open.
Rafe Cameron.
Your heart thudded painfully against your ribs as you registered the scene. His arm encircled you like a lifeline, his fingers brushing the silk of your nightdress. His chest rose and fell behind you, his face inches from yours, serene and completely oblivious.
For a moment, you froze, unable to move or think. The remnants of your dream clung to you like a fog—those piercing blue eyes, the rasp of his voice against your neck, his hands, the way his body felt against yours... God, no. You squeezed your eyes shut. Why him?
When you dared to glance over your shoulder, you were struck silent by the sight of him. The hard edges of his usual arrogance had melted in sleep, leaving behind something softer. His lashes rested against his cheeks, and the faintest crease tugged at his brow as if even his dreams carried weight. His mouth, often curled in a smirk, was relaxed and slightly parted, his boyish features hauntingly beautiful in the morning light.
Your stomach twisted, and not from disdain.
No. Stop. This is Rafe Cameron. He's arrogant, insufferable, and—
The soft brush of his thumb against your waist derailed your thoughts. Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with annoyance.
You stared at him for a moment longer, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Then you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. What the hell are you doing? Snap out of it.
Carefully, you shifted out from under his arm, your movements painstakingly slow to avoid waking him. He murmured something unintelligible in his sleep, but you slipped free and bolted for the bathroom like a criminal fleeing the scene.
The cold spray of the shower did little to quiet your thoughts.
Your hands pressed flat against the tiled wall as water streamed down your back, each droplet sharp against your overheated skin. It was just a dream. It doesn’t mean anything. It was the weed. Yeah. Not your own mind, the weed.
But the image of Rafe’s face, soft and peaceful, lingered behind your closed eyes. You remembered the weight of his arm, the heat of his body against yours. It had felt... safe.
Safe? With him?
You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head as the water cascaded over you. You hate him. Don’t you?
The truth bubbled up unbidden, a quiet voice in the back of your mind whispering things you didn’t want to acknowledge.
When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already awake. He was sitting up in bed, scrolling lazily through his phone, his hair a mess and his t-shirt rumpled. His eyes flicked to you, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Morning, trouble.” His voice was still heavy with sleep, rough and low in a way that sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine.
You rolled your eyes, brushing past him to grab your bag. “Don’t start.”
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An hour later, you found yourself seated beside Rafe in the convertible he’d rented, the wind whipping through your hair as the two of you drove to a nearby coastal town. The excuse had been simple—he needed to meet someone to “talk business,” and you weren’t about to let him go unsupervised.
But somewhere along the way, the lines of pretense blurred.
The wedding guests weren’t here, and for the first time, it felt like you weren’t playing a role. He held your hand as you strolled through a bustling street market, his thumb occasionally brushing yours. You told yourself it was part of the act, but the lingering touches and the way his gaze softened when he looked at you felt too real.
“Tell me something,” he said suddenly as you both stopped to admire a quaint storefront.
You tilted your head, curious. “What?”
“What would you do if you didn’t have to be... this?” He gestured vaguely, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “The perfect daughter. The one who always follows the plan.”
The question caught you off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted, hesitating. “I’ve never really thought about it. My mom... she makes all the plans. I just... follow them.”
His brows furrowed, and for a moment, the usual cockiness in his expression was replaced with something else. Empathy?
He scoffed, shaking his head. “You don’t have to live her life, you know. You can live yours.”
The weight of his words lingered between you, and when he reached for your hand again, you didn’t pull away.
The streets of the coastal town were alive with energy. Cobblestones stretched underfoot, flanked by colorful market stalls and bustling cafes. A faint saltiness clung to the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked pastries and the hum of conversation.
Rafe led you through the market, his hand brushing against yours more times than necessary. Eventually, he took your hand outright, his grip warm and firm. You told yourself it was for appearances, but when he smiled down at you – his eyes crinkling at the corners – it felt like more.
“Look at this.” He stopped at a stall selling delicate silver jewelry, picking up a bracelet adorned with tiny shells. He held it up to your wrist, his fingers brushing your skin as he fastened it.
“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as your heart stumbled in your chest.
“Buying it for you,” he said simply, the words spoken with a softness that left you momentarily speechless.
The day passed in a blur of easy conversation and unspoken understanding. You wandered through art galleries, shared gelato from a single cup, and lingered by the harbor as the sun dipped lower in the sky.
At some point, you forgot that you weren’t a real couple.
His laugh came more freely, and so did yours. His touches lingered a moment longer than necessary—a hand on your lower back, a brush of his fingers against your cheek.
As you sat on a bench overlooking the ocean, the question came.
The silence between you was broken by a distant church bell ringing out across the harbor. You both froze.
“Oh, shit!” you muttered, your eyes widening. “The wedding.”
His hand dropped from yours as he shot up from the bench. “What time is it?” he asked, fumbling for his phone.
You glanced at yours, panic rising as you saw the time. “Alright, don’t panic but
 We’ve a little more than an hour before it starts.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “How did we let this happen?”
“Because you distracted me,” you teased, already pulling him toward the street.
“Me?” he countered, laughing. “You were the one who wanted gelato.”
Your laughter blended into his as you both broke into a jog, the serenity of the day replaced by the frantic energy of rushing to make it on time.
“I’ll drive!” You shouted as you grabbed the keys from his hand before he could even notice.
“What? No.” Rafe tried to argue but it was already too late, you were already sat with a cynical smile on your lips. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before he nodded, raising his hands in surrender. “Just don’t run over anyone, alright?”
“No promises, Cameron.”
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When you stepped out of the bathroom, dressed and ready, his breath caught in his chest.
You were stunning. His chest tightened as if the air had been knocked out of him.
Holy shit.
Your eyes flicked to his, your lips curling into a faint smile, oblivious to the way you had unraveled him. Rafe swallowed hard, his jaw clenching to keep himself from staring too long. You were his fake date for tonight, his best friend’s younger sister, but in that moment, he couldn’t think straight.
He couldn’t look away, and when you finally met his gaze, the intensity in his expression made your cheeks heat.
“What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny.
How the hell am I supposed to focus on anything else tonight? He ran a hand through his buzz cut as he forced himself to look away, checking the hour in his phone.
He forced a casual smirk, masking the chaos in his chest. “Nothing.” His voice came out lower than he intended, almost unsteady. “Took you long enough.”
You rolled your eyes at him and turned in a slow circle, the hem of your dress whispering against the floor as you moved. “Wasn’t all that zeroes in your card worth it?” she teased, her voice light, playful, yet confident.
Rafe let out a sharp breath of laughter, shaking his head. You have no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?
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The reception was in full swing when the bride’s cheerful voice rang through the venue, calling for the people to gather for the bouquet toss. Laughter and playful shouts filled the air as the women reluctantly shuffled into position, a mix of excitement and teasing camaraderie setting the tone.
You lingered at the edge of the crowd, hesitant, clutching your glass of champagne. Your gaze instinctively flicked to Rafe, who stood near the bar, hands casually tucked into his pockets. He looked effortlessly sharp in his tailored suit, his tie slightly loosened, giving him an air of relaxed confidence. The corners of his mouth tugged upward in the faintest hint of a smirk when your eyes met his, as though he knew exactly what you were thinking.
You tilted your head, silently asking for his opinion, unsure if you should join the group or stay put. His response was maddeningly casual – a slow, deliberate nod paired with a soft, playful expression that seemed to say, Why not? Go on.
Before you could overthink, Mrs. Rossi appeared at your side, her warm hand on your arm. “Go, darling! What are you waiting for?” she urged, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. Her insistence left no room for argument, and you soon found yourself swept into the crowd, standing among the other women with your heart racing for reasons you didn’t quite understand.
The bride counted down, laughter bubbling through the group. You weren’t even trying to catch it, honestly — you’d positioned yourself slightly off-center, hoping to avoid the chaos of the toss. But then, as if the universe had a sense of humor, the bouquet arced through the air, its trajectory unmistakable. Time seemed to slow as the flowers came straight toward you. Reflexively, your hands shot up, and before you could even process what had happened, the bouquet was in your grasp.
Gasps and cheers erupted around you as the realization hit. You’d caught it. You.
A flush crept up your cheeks as you stared down at the vibrant arrangement in your hands, disbelief mingling with a strange fluttering in your chest. You barely registered the playful teasing from the other women, their laughter ringing in your ears like background noise. Instead, your gaze instinctively sought him – Rafe – as if sharing this ridiculous moment with him would somehow make it feel less surreal.
He was already watching you, his expression unreadable, his jaw set in that way that made it impossible to know what he was thinking. But his eyes
 there was something in his eyes. Amusement, maybe, but also something deeper, something that made your stomach flip. You couldn’t look away, and for a fleeting second, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.
A hand clapped Rafe on the shoulder, breaking the moment. Mr. Rossi stood beside him, his jovial tone carrying over the noise of the crowd. “You know, Rafe,” he said thoughtfully, his gaze flicking between the two of you, “it’s not just the way you look at her. It’s the way you look when you’re with her. Like you’ve finally found something worth holding onto.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, the words settling into him like a slow burn. He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze still locked on you as you turned back to the group, smiling awkwardly under the attention. But the weight of Rossi’s comment hung heavy in the air, sinking into his chest like an undeniable truth he wasn’t ready to face.
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The music shifted, soft and slow, the kind that seemed to pull couples toward the dance floor. The warm glow of fairy lights overhead cast a dreamy haze over the reception, and the low hum of conversation faded as pairs gravitated toward the center.
You had been lingering at the edge of the crowd, half-watching, half-lost in your thoughts, when Rafe appeared in front of you. His hand extended toward you, his lips curving into a crooked smile that somehow managed to be both confident and disarming.
“Shall we?” he asked, his voice low and inviting, yet tinged with a playful challenge, as if daring you to say no.
You hesitated, your eyes darting between his hand and his face. There was an expectant look in his eyes – not demanding, not pushy, but enough to make refusal feel impossible. Against your better judgment, you placed your hand in his, his touch warm and steady against your palm.
The moment his other hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer, the world seemed to blur. The noise of the reception melted into the background, leaving only the music and the subtle pressure of his touch. His hand was firm yet gentle, his fingers splayed against the fabric of your dress, grounding you in a way that made your pulse quicken.
You tried to focus on the steps, on not stepping on his toes, but it was impossible to ignore the way his breath brushed against your hair, warm and steady. When you finally dared to look up, your gaze collided with his. He was already watching you, his eyes soft and searching, like he was trying to figure out something he didn’t quite understand.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the strains of the music. You weren’t sure where the words came from – maybe from the vulnerability of the moment, maybe from the way his gaze made you feel so unsteady, so seen.
“Like what?” he asked, his lips quirking into a teasing smile. But his eyes – they were anything but teasing. There was something unreadable in them, something that made your heart race even faster.
“Like
 that.” you managed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Flustered, you dropped your gaze and rested your head on his shoulder, hoping to hide your face from his relentless attention. His scent surrounded you, clean and faintly woodsy, and you found yourself drawing in a shaky breath.
His laugh was quiet, rumbling through his chest and reverberating against you. “Whatever you say, trouble.” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement and something else, something deeper.
And just like that, you were lost – lost in the music, in his touch, in the way the moment felt impossibly
 right.
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The waves crashed against the shore far below, their rhythmic sound filling the stillness of the night. The balcony was bathed in moonlight, the faint breeze carrying the salty tang of the ocean. You leaned back against the cool glass railing, your silk pajama set whispering against your skin with every movement.
Rafe sat beside you, legs stretched out in front of him, his back resting against the wall. He wore a simple t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, but somehow he made it look effortlessly good. A faint trail of smoke curled up from the blunt in his hand, glowing faintly in the dark.
You reached for it, your fingers brushing his as he passed it to you.
“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice low and lazy, softened by the late hour and the haze between you.
“I’m just... thinking,” you replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke and watching it dissolve into the night. The waves below seemed to match the slow rhythm of your heartbeat, lulling you into a calm you hadn’t felt in ages.
“Dangerous,” he teased, his lips curving into a small smirk as he tilted his head to look at you. His gaze lingered a second too long, tracing the line of your neck, the delicate fabric of your pajama top that clung to your skin.
You didn’t miss the way his smirk faltered, his jaw tightening slightly as he forced himself to look away.
“What?” you asked, arching a brow, but there was a playful lilt to your tone.
“Nothing.” His voice was gruffer now, and he ran a hand through his hair as if to distract himself.
A comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the sound of the waves and the occasional flick of the lighter as one of you reignited the blunt. It was the kind of quiet that only came late at night, when the world felt smaller and safer, and conversations flowed in ways they wouldn’t in the daylight.
“Do you ever think about how weird it is that the moon controls the tides?” you mused, passing the blunt back to him.
Rafe chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly. “You’re high.”
“Yeah, well, so are you,” you shot back, a grin tugging at your lips.
“Fair enough.” He took a drag, leaning his head back against the wall as he exhaled slowly. “But yeah, I guess it is kind of weird. Like, how does something so far away have that much power?”
You turned to look at him, your expression softening as you watched the way his features caught the moonlight. “Maybe everything has more power than we think,” you murmured, almost to yourself.
He glanced at you then, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
For a while, neither of you spoke, content to sit in the quiet. Then, out of nowhere, you broke the silence.
“Art.”
Rafe blinked, turning his head to look at you. “What?”
“That’s what I’d do,” you said, your voice quieter now. “If I could live my own life. If I didn’t have to follow anyone else’s plans.”
He straightened slightly, his attention fully on you now. “You’d do art?”
You nodded, your gaze fixed on the waves below. “I’d study art. Paint, photograph... create things that mean something. I’d open my own gallery someday, fill it with my work.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you risked a glance at him. The look on his face made your breath catch.
There was something new in his expression, something that hadn’t been there before. His usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced by a mix of surprise, admiration, and... something deeper. Desire, maybe.
“What?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.
He muttered something under his breath, too low for you to catch.
You frowned slightly, leaning closer. “What did you say?”
Instead of answering, he reached for the blunt in your hand, but his fingers didn’t close around it. Instead, they brushed against yours, lingering just a moment too long.
The air between you shifted, the playful haze of the night dissolving into something charged. His eyes searched yours, his hand still grazing yours, and before you could fully process what was happening, he moved.
In one fluid motion, he pulled you onto his lap, his hands settling firmly on your waist as he looked up at you.
“Rafe—”
Whatever you were going to say was swallowed by his lips on yours.
The kiss was intense, a culmination of everything the two of you had held back over the years. His fingers tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and your hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, steadying yourself as the world tilted.
He kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment forever, like he couldn’t get enough. And for the first time, you didn’t fight it.
Your fingers slid into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you deepened the kiss, pouring all the unspoken words and buried feelings into the moment. His hands slid up your back, his touch firm and possessive, and you felt yourself melting against him.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard, the weight of what had just happened settling between you.
Rafe’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed at you.
“You should do it,” he murmured, his voice rough.
“Do what?” you whispered, your fingers still tangled in his hair.
“Everything you just said. Art, the gallery... all of it. Screw what anyone else wants.”
Your heart swelled at the conviction in his voice, but before you could respond, he kissed you again, silencing any lingering doubts.
The waves crashed below, steady and unrelenting, but up here, the world felt still, quiet. Your forehead rested against Rafe’s, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. His hands hadn’t moved from your waist, his grip grounding you, steadying you even as your heart raced.
His words stayed with you, lingering in the space between you, but it wasn’t just what he said — it was how he looked at you. Like you were someone worth believing in.
Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, tightened slightly as you searched his eyes. “You make it sound so simple,” you whispered.
His lips curved into the faintest smile, one that didn’t hold its usual arrogance. “Maybe it is,” he said softly. “You just need someone to remind you.”
The intensity in his gaze was almost too much, and you broke eye contact, letting your forehead drop to his shoulder. But even as you did, you felt the tension humming between you, thick and electric. His hands shifted slightly, sliding higher on your waist, the warmth of his touch bleeding through the silk of your pajamas.
“Y/N,” he said quietly, your name falling from his lips like a plea.
You lifted your head to look at him, and the moment your eyes met, everything else fell away. His gaze dropped to your lips, and your breath hitched as his thumb brushed against your side, a touch so light it could have been accidental—except you both knew it wasn’t.
“Rafe...” you started, but his name came out softer than you intended, a whisper that held too much.
It undid him.
Before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours, not with the urgency of before but with a deliberate, consuming hunger. His kiss deepened slowly, his hands tightening their hold on you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.
The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat building between you. His hands slid from your waist to your thighs, gripping them as he pulled you closer on his lap, and you gasped into his mouth as you felt him underneath you.
He pulled back slightly, his forehead still pressed to yours as his breath came in short, ragged bursts.
“Are you sure?” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the crash of the waves.
You searched his face, your heart pounding so loudly you could barely think. But there was no hesitation when you nodded, your fingers sliding down to rest against his chest.
“Yes,” you whispered.
And then his lips were on yours again, and this time, there was no holding back.
⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @lilithblackkk @slutforoldermen @louxmcl @peter-parkers-gf @yootvi @v4mp1rr3
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alicewrotethis · 1 day ago
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𐙚ᣟʂïč’đšđŠđžđ«đąđœđšđ§đšïč’
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ă…€Û«ă…€ ˚ ÛȘ˖đ“Čïč’synopsis!! kuroo decided to stop for coffee before practice, he didnt expect to meet you ă…€ Ë–ă…€ă…€Û«ă…€ ˚ౚ cw!! k. tetsuro x fem!reader ïč’ â—  note!! frank oceans 'blonde' album just reminds me of kuroo in all ways idk, PART TWO SOON this was just on my mind i had to write some of it ౚ wc!! 1k, wanted to make it longer but im so sleepy i cant think of words, next part will be longer !! big plot twist coming soon trust
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The sound of Frank Ocean's voice in your airpod quickly replaced the silence as you flipped the sign indicating you were now open, you had hoped it would be a slow morning today since you'd be the only one here for the next few hours. Your manager couldn't make it due to a 'family emergency', and you believed him, well, you believed him the first four times he used that excuse this month. You'd like it better if he told you straight up that he'd like to sleep in some more, you'd have no problem doing a job that's meant for two people. With school starting up again most of your coworkers had quit, now devoting their time to academics, which you didn't mind.
You grabbed the broom that was sitting behind the counter, wanting to do one last sweep before the regulars came in for their usual morning coffee and pastry, and it's not like you had anything better to do having already made fresh pastries two hours before opening.
You began quietly humming along to the lyrics, not hearing the ringing coming from the door.
"Hello," A gruff voice spoke out, and usually you'd be cheery, replying in an instant, but usually you'd hear the customer.
Kuroo instantly recognized the song you were humming along to and a smile appeared on his face from familiarity. Though he was visibly confused about why you kept sweeping, had he not spoken loud enough?
This wasn't his usual coffee place but it was the only place that opened at six in the morning and was spoken very fondly of by Lev.
He cleared his throat preparing to speak out louder this time, but you quickly spun around and took out both your airpods, a shocked look prevalent on your features as you hastily spat out apologies while bowing profusely.
Kuroo let out a small chuckle at your actions, a hand coming to the back of his head as he stood their awkwardly.
"Frank Ocean?" His voice snapped you out of your apologetic state, your flustered blush never moving.
"Yeah! I just lost track of time and thought I'd have a bit more time to finish sweeping and I swear I wasn't igno-"
"It's okay, things happen, I remember when I was young like you." He cut off your rambles before you spoke yourself into the grave.
Only then did you realize how tall this guy was, he was tall but he didn't look old. What did he mean by that? How old was this guy? His bedhead hair gave him an even taller illusion. He wore a red tracksuit, a clothing item you're familiar with, he must be from Nekoma. Then what the fuck did he mean by 'young like you'? You brushed away your confusing thoughts and wondered if he knew Lev.
"Can I get a coffee now?" He asked, taking note of how long you stared him up and down, which silently inflated his ego.
"Yeah! Of course! Sorry," You quickly led him to the counter, letting the broom rest against the brick wall, turning to log into the register.
"Do you need a menu?" You asked, staring up at him, you hadn't seen him here before, you usually remembered all your regulars and customers since you've worked here since, well, you could legally start working. And you're sure you'd remember a face like his. He had distinctive cat-like eyes, and the way he stood, like he knows he's attractive.
"I'll just get an Americano," He spoke, reaching for his wallet as the price displayed on the register.
"Don't worry about it, it's on me for not paying attention" Your hands shot up dismissively.
A smile grew on his lips, "You sure? It's not a big deal," He didn't mind that you weren't paying attention, but a free coffee is a free coffee.
"Yeah! It's only espresso and hot water," You explained, turning around to start the espresso machine up.
You felt nervous under his gaze, knowing that he could see your every move. It had never made you nervous in the years you worked here, but now it was the only thing on your mind. You weren't sure why you were so nervous, it's not like you hadn't seen an attractive guy before, you didn't even know this guy's name.
"And a name for the order?" You said playfully, back still turned to him to hide your blush, but if you were facing him you'd catch the playful smirk he displayed while watching your form.
"Kuroo,"
"Kuroo," You repeated, testing the way it rolled off your tongue, and he relished in the way you said his name, how innocently you pronounced it. He couldn't help the way his eyes drifted lower and lower.
The espresso machine beep cut both of your thoughts shut. Kuroos eyes snapped back up while he internally cursed at himself.
Placing the to-go coffee cup lip in place you grabbed the sharpie from your smock pocket and popped the lid off, writing 'kuroo :)' on the side and promptly handing him his drink with an innocent smile, hoping you had spelled his name correctly.
He returned your smile and placed his large hands around the cup, brushing against your smaller fingers which sent a shiver down your spine, something that didn't go unnoticed by him.
"I'll be seeing you,"
"Yeah!" You watched as he turned towards the door, the bell chiming as he took his leave. The silence of the coffee shop settled in and you had already missed his presence. You knew today would be a long day, would he be here tomorrow?
Kuroo made it halfway to Nekoma before he realized he didnt even get your name, he didn't even think to ask, he debated on running back and asking for your name but you'd probably be busy by now, he would just need to ask next time he went. He wasn't sure when next time would be due to practice and his matches, but for now all he could do was trace your handwriting with his thumb as he entered the Nekoma boys gym.
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mlist. rules. tags.
© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !
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hydrangeapartridge · 22 hours ago
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The Lilac Dress (EmmRook One Shot)
Summary:
Rook was wearing the lilac dress. Emmrich's favourite. The one that made Rook’s leg look impossibly long with the slit on the side. The one that drew attention to her lovely cleavage without being too revealing. The one that hugged her forms but with elegance.
The one that always promised heights of intimacy after a fancy outting.
Or.. A tipsy Emmrich with lowered inhibitions f***s Rook's brains out.
Warning : E-rated content (5k of it...). Set post game in my head but no real spoilers.
Cross posted on AO3 (where you can check my other fics for them in my dedicated series)
Rook was slowly sipping a glass of gooseberry wine alongside an unusual guest. Dorian Pavus sent a letter a few weeks ago informing her that he was traveling around the continent, and would enjoy making a stop in Nevarra to greet her, as well as his former teacher.
Rook and Emmrich were delighted at the prospect of seeing him again and gladly accepted his invitation to share a meal in a famous and pricey restaurant of the capital.
Initially, they were supposed to meet there, but Dorian in his spontaneous fashion, decided to drop by their place before the scheduled hour of the meal, claiming he needed to see the décor of their shared lives.
So after a short visit of the house, Rook offered drinks while they waited for Emmrich, who was getting a bit tardy, retained no doubt in a longer than expected meeting.
Dorian started on his second glass as he admired the numerous displays of plants and flowers scattered around the living room, all lush and vibrant, visibly well nurtured.
“Professor Volkarin is ever the romantic man he was often accused to be it seems. So many flowers he offers you” He remarked, taking a large gulp of wine.
Rook smiled, but corrected him. “Actually, those are all gifts from me to him”
She brought those flowers back from her travels because she knew Emmrich had a passion for plants and botanic. He even told Harding once that he would have been a botanist if he did not happen to manifest a gift for corpse whispering.
At first, Rook would gift him bouquets, in the traditionnal way lovers did, but she quickly switched to potted plants that were more convenient to bring back, and avoided her the heartbreak of seeing Emmrich’s saddened expression when the fresh cut flowers eventually wilted. Only her sentimental lover could mourn flowers with such longing.
She loved how his eyes lit up each time she gifted him a new exotic plant, and how he got excited to research it aftewards. She became enamored with the way he would admire the frail blossoms every day; caress their pretty velvet petals each time he passed by, slowing down to take in their subtle perfume. Emmrich fell in love with flowers like he always seemed to fall in love with the beauty of life; with the magic of existence and the diversity of all things living. And it filled Rook’s heart to the brim with love for him.
Dorian was surprised by her confession, but mostly amused. “I understand now how you swept away the coveted and dashing Professor. You appealed to his tender heart”
Rook knew Emmrich had many short idylls when younger, both with men and women. But none of them ever connected to him on the level Rook did. She came to suspect that Emmrich’s good looks attracted the more flighty lovers. Passionate no doubt, but quick to tire when they found out he was looking for a more significant bond. And despite his openess and kindness, Emmrich’s collected and controlled attitude could have intimidated more earnest options.
Rook was saddned by the thought, but glad that fate made it so that he waited for her.
“Coveted?” She asked curiously. She was admiteddly eager to hear more about her lover’s life before her, and Dorian was happy to provide.
“Of course. You can’t possibly ignore that he moved many student’s hearts. Mine included”
Rook blinked owlishly, setting her glass down and leaning toward Dorian with renewed curiosity. “Really?”
Dorian shrugged. “Well he is a passionnate and clever teacher; patient and sensible. I could listen to him talk about the most grotesque burial rites and ask for more” Dorian leaned forward too. “And you’re familiar with his-” He cleared his throat, reining in his gusto. “-his elegant figure”
That she was familiar with indeed. Rook pictured the poor students, young and raging with hormones, having trouble focusing on the fascinating lessons just because Emmrich was the one who taught them. She wished she could spy on a lecture one day.
“Don’t go stealing him away” She exagerratedly frowned at Dorian. “I’ll get angry” She joked but still made her claim in a vain ugly and unecessary jealousy. She knew Emmrich was hopelessly devoted to her and her to him.
Dorian laughed, airy and bright. “I wouldn’t dream of it!” He got more serious then. “I know how strong a bond forged in facing death together can be”
At first, Rook thought he was refering to the Inquisitor and Solas, that Dorian knew very well. But he seemed to speak of an even more personnal experience. Maybe he had someone dear to him. He told her once about a friend he visited a few times a year, whom he seemed closed with but couldn’t introduce for political reasons. Someone special, but probably scandalous. Maybe he even had been visiting them before coming to Nevarra?
Rook desperatly wanted to ask for anecdotes from Emmrich’s younger days, but just when she was about to gather the courage to do so, the front door opened, and the subject of her curiosity soon entered the room.
Emmrich greeted Dorian, and apologized for his tardiness, claiming there had been complications with a routine cleansing of one of the Necropolis’ chambers. He then turned to greet Rook, but froze when he saw her outfit.
She was wearing the lilac dress.
He loved Rook in all states of dress or undress, but this one was his favourite. The one that made Rook’s leg look impossibly long with the slit on the side. The one that drew attention to her lovely cleavage without being too revealing. The one that hugged her forms but with elegance. The one that always promised heights of intimacy after a fancy outting.
Emmrich didn’t have much time to delve onto Rook’s outfit choice for they were awaited at the restaurant. And what a lovely evening it was.
They sat at a quiet and cosy terasse under the moon and the stars. Each dish was better than the previous one, and accompanied by passionate discussions about magic, politics, as well as reminiscing of fond memories. If Rook drank a few glasses of wine, she stopped before she felt too inebriated. Emmrich and Dorian weren’t as reasonnable, and kept filling the other’s glass almost on reflex as they became absorbed in deep talks about necromancy and art.
When dessert was served, Rook mostly listened to their heated discussions with a smile on her lips. But she knew she was not forgotten. Far from it.
Emmrich kept stealing glances her way, his gaze filled with adoration. His fingers found her hand from time to time, and her thigh on rarer occasions. There were a few stolen caresses from his leg on hers too.
It could not be helped; she wore the lilac dress. The dress that made her look the most desirable and exquisite. She could feel herself longing for the end of this admitedly pleasant meal so she could steal her lover away for the night. Her excitement was buidling up from the looks he gave her and the prospect of a night of the passion that the lilac dress entailed.
They were in such good company and at their age, both Emmrich and Rook knew how to control themselves. But at one point, the meal started feeling endless, and Rook wondered if maybe she had been too adventurous when chosing that dress that she used to wear only when going out with Emmrich as a couple. She was delighted to reunite with Dorian, but eager for meal to be over.
When they finally stood up from the table, after hours, they were the last patrons in the restaurant. Emmrich was charmingly fuddled, but Dorian turned out to be completely drunk. He ingested more alcohol, given he started on an empty stomach while waiting for Emmrich with Rook.
After a small exchange in front of the restaurant, Rook and Emmrich insisted the tevinter mage slept at their place for he was in no capacity to walk back to the room he rented. It would be better if someone was around were he to feel sick, and also, despite the safety of Nevarra’s streets, Emmrich worried about muggers.
Dorian easily complied, letting himself be guided back to Rook and Emmrich’s shared house. While Emmrich wobblily dragged him to the spare bedroom and made sure he was comfortable, Rook stayed downstairs and set to cleaning the wine glasses they left when they departed. She hoped a distraction and a grounding and boring activity like cleaning would ease the tension inside her.
She was getting frustrated. She waited so long to go home with Emmrich, so sure they would soon be alone and the torture caused by her rising desire would end. But alas, things did not go as planned. Were higher forces punishing her for mischeviously planning ahead to have groundbreaking sex with her lover after an outting with a friend?
The problem was the lilac dress. It automatically gave expectations for the night’s end. An automatic response to it that they built during months of her going out in it and then taking it off in front of Emmrich’s eager eyes. Usually the built up led to the most rewarding conclusion, but tonight, it was a trap of frustration.
Lost in her thoughts and memories of nights between the sheets, the lilac dress forgotten on the bedroom’s floor, Rook didn’t notice Emmrich presence behind her until he hugged her from behind. She jolted a bit but soon relaxed as she recognized his touch and the scent of his cologne.
He rested his head on her shoulder with a long sigh.
“What a night” He commented, both exhausted and giddy.
Rook hummed in agreement and put away the glass she just finished wipping clean. It was late, and they would have to go to bed without their usual post outting naked embrace. She was slightly disappointed, but knew there would be many other occasions.
She tried to turn around and step away from the kitchen’s counter but Emmrich held her in place in a tight embrace. It seemed he was mourning the loss of their potential fun too.
She lifted her arm and threaded her fingers in his soft hair, lightly scratching his scalp before her hand traveled down and caressed his cheek. Emmrich responded with a few loving kissed on her palm. His right hand dropped down to the slit in her dress, parting it so he could touch the bare skin of her thigh.
Then he pressed himself harder against her back and she felt his need for her against her backside.
This was bad. Because she didn’t want to move away and neither did he.
“We shouldn’t” Rook still whispered, trying to be a voice of reason.
Emmrich hummed but didn’t let go. His rings were cool on Rook’s thigh as his palm hiked up her dress, deliciously contrasting with the heat of his skin. His left hand moved up from her waist to cup her breast, feeling the enticing weight of it in his large palm.
“I’m afraid I can’t wait” Emmrich breathed into her ear, placing a kiss to her lobe, pulling on it lightly to make her shiver. “That wicked, lovely dress
 I wanted you out of it the moment I came back home and saw it. Hadn’t we have company, I would even have considered doing something about it before going out this time”
Rook had misplayed. She should have changed the second they came home. Or better, shouldn’t have worn the damn dress at all. The Lilac dress was irresistible.
“Dorian could hear” Rook tried to argue with both her lover and her own desire. She had hoped for a night of fun but not with a guest in the house!
“Oh. Not in the state he’s in, I don’t think so” Emmrich chuckled, the sound rich and deep, making Rook want to hear more in that low voice of his.
His hand on her chest gently pulled down the fabric hiding her cleavage from him, and he inhaled sharply when his eyes discovered her underwear.
“Oh but this is gorgeous dearest” He praised her choice of a refined creamy lacy bra.
It was a new one; really, what was she thinking when she dressed up? Horny. That was for sure.
Emmrich then hiked up the bottom part of the dress higher to uncover the matching panties.
Withtout hesitation, he slipped a finger underneath the fabric. Of course she was already soaked from hours of imagining a more tender version of this.
“What about Manfred ?” Rook choked out, her restraint and decency barely holding by a thread of lucidity.
Emmrich’s hand retreated to her hipbone. He hesitated. Manfred could be imprevisible and he once barged into their bedroom while they were in a compromising position because he heard Rook cry out and thought she was hurt. The explanation that followed had been laborious and the mood had been killed. Spirit’s behavious sometimes were unpredictable, and the watcher pondered the risks and benefits of the situation.
Rook and Emmrich weren’t exhibitionnists, or careless about risking to be caught. They were usually quite vanilla and prefered to have tender sex in the intimacy of their locked bedroom, sure not to be disturbed. But Emmrich had a little bit too much wine and Rook was wearing the lilac dress. It was a devastating combo.
One other look down her cleavage, where the lace teasingly peeked out of the lilac fabric and Emmrich made up his mind. “You will have to keep oh so very quiet then darling” He whispered into her ear, sending delicious shivers down her spine.
They never found themselves in this situation, and Rook started to feel impossibly excited by her lover’s boldness about taking risks. However she knew from the start that she simply couldn’t stay quiet. She wouldn’t be able to with how much she wanted him already and how well Emmrich always took care of her needs. Plus she was usually a bit vocal in bed.
“I can’t do it” She shook her head, but Emmrich grabbed her chin, angling her so he could place an insistant kiss on her lips.
“Nonsense, I’m sure you can dearest” He encouraged her, leaving no room for discussion as he focused on pulling down her panties until they hit the floor.
His fingers found her clit not a second later, and already, Rook had to place a hand in front of her mouth to stiffle a loud moan. She waited so long for this and it simply felt too good to finally be touched.
She supported herself with her other hand on the counter as Emmrich began undoing her in a way only he had the secret to.
His gloved hand caressed her breast, fingers only brushing against her nipples from time to time, teasing her in the best way possible. He kissed her neck, her jaw, nipped at the sensitive spot below her ear.
“You look so lovely in that dress darling. I am a lucky man indeed to be blessed with such a view”
While praising her looks and the softeness of her body, Emmrich abandonned her drenched core to expose her naked backside, bunching up the fabric of the dress at her hips. He pressed his clothed erection to where she most wanted him, unusually careless about the stain her wetness would leave on his clothes.
His teasing was the best kind of torture, and Rook ground back against him with an enthusiasm of a woman who had been abstinent for months and not only a few days.
He caressed her backside while he rubbed himself against her through his pants until she whimpered against her own hand, struggling to keep quiet, and his erection started to ache from the restraint of his clothes.
The sound of Emmrich’s belt being unbuckled was music to Rook’s ears. The watcher only opened a few buttons of his shirt to fight the heat creeping under his skin before he opened his trousers and freed his erection from his underwear.
The sensations from before heightened when this time Rook directly felt the velvety tip of Emmrich’s desire against her folds. He thrust against her first, sliding into her wetness, purposefully letting his tip graze against her clit with each lazy move. His fingers joined in to tease her, petting her with barely enough pressure, circling her entrance where the nerves were sensitive and alite with a burning need, but never penetrating her fully.
He was teasing her in the best way, slowly, meticulously escalating the burning desire that only grew crescendo from the beginning of the evening. She didn’t think she could want it even more, but he drove her mad with his caresses. Which each new touch she felt like coming undone, but it always was robbed from her from a purposeful lack of the last little push she needed.
Emmrich was not one for quickies so him taking his time even in those circumstances shouldn’t have surprised her. Despite caving and indulging in taking her in the kitchen, he was still so in control compared to her. She was sure he wanted to ravish her, but he kept them on edge, enjoying the thrill of it. He knew their bodies so well that he could keep her just right there for hours. She knew it, and the prospect of it both excited and terrified her. She had been waiting for so long already. She deserved to be rewarded and for her devoring lust to be satiated.
“Please Emmrich ” She finally begged, bordering on insanity, her words escaping between the moans she kept in check with her hand over her mouth.
Emmrich pressed himself to her entrance, barely breaching her before retreating, taking her breath away and making her thighs tremble.
She whinned with longing and frustration. She had never been so eager to feel him inside her in her whole life. She almost felt bullied, and tears started to form at the corners of her eyes. As if the stress from the risk they were taking and the fatigue of the evening weren’t already taking enough of a toll on her body.
“I know mylove. I know” Emmrich caressed her back soothingly and ran a finger from her clit to her entrance in another agonizing caress “I’ve got you darling, trust me, you won’t regret it” He promised.
He moved the hand that was placed on her back up to the back of her neck, gently applying pressure to guide her down until she obendiently pressed her torso against the counter. She surrendered to him, head floppping onto her arms on the countertop, getting as comfortable as possible in this position.
“Good. There you go”
Emmrich kept a hand on her neck, not restrictive but still assertive enough to make Rook’s mind spin. As he praised her, he swiftly entered her fully, her core welcoming him without an ounce of resistance. He paired the gesture with a wicked flick of his thumb on her puffy clit and before she knew it, Rook was screaming into her first, the sole feel of him finally indulging her after hours of waiting making her come harder than she ever expected.
Emmrich stayed burried deep inside her as she rode her height. He soothingly caressed her thigh when she started getting down from it, her breathing coming into short pants. He leaned forward and kissed her temple, where her hair clung wet to her sweaty forehead.
“That was truly marvelous darling” He complimented her with both tenderness and raw desire. “I always wanted to try this” He confessed, the alcohol lowering his inhibitions and abolishing his restraint.
Rook mumbled something incomprehensible as he continued to praise her like she just did something incredible and he wasn’t the one who just blew her mind.
“Let's continue in bed” Emmrich offered in a flash of lucidity upon seeing the mess he already made of his dearest.
But her hand quickly grabbed his hip. No, this was too promising. She waited so long to have him inside her. And she wanted him to find release too. She shook her head.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in bed?” Emmrich insisted, but inhaled sharply when she clenched around him, holding him in place in a vice grip.
She didn’t need to use her words, only pressed her behind to his bony hips and arched her back. She raised herself on the tip of her toes to angle her hips so he would reach deeper inside her, lewdly presenting herself for him to take full advantage of.
Emmrich had always been weak to her desires and so, he obliged her wordless plea. How could he not? She felt so good around him.
Despite his urge to ravish her, Emmrich started thrusting inside Rook at a slow pace, assessing what she could handle in her sensitive post-orgamic state.
He was rewarded with the most unashamed moans each time his tip caressed her deep inside. He rarely took her from behind, for he enjoyed more romantic embraces where he could see her face; but when he did, it made for the deepest and most groundbreaking penetration.
Rook didn’t care for her noise anymore, her brain too scattered to remind her of any sense of shame or decency.
“Shhh. Quiet darling” Emmrich tried to get her to lower the volume, but he could not resist increasing the pace given how well she was taking him.
She responded marvelously to his new tempo, her back arching and her mouth opening on a series of short blissfull whimpers.
Emmrich had trouble controlling his pacing from how she was sucking him in, openly invinting him in the very core of her intimacy. But she was growing too loud, even for this thrilling risky tryst.
“Quiet dear, or we’ll have to stop” He repeated, voice hoarse but assertive, one hand coming to press on her lower back to stop her from grinding back into him as she chased her pleasure.
Rook felt the pace slow more than heard her lover’s warning. The loss of friction left her distressed and still so impossibly aroused. It did not feel like she just came. She needed more. She felt insatiable, desire running wild and electric under her skin.
“No please, please don’t stop!” She begged, high pitched and teary.
Emmrich winced as she squirmed, squeezing him. Her voice was even louder as she pleaded with him; alarmingly so. He couldn’t possibly get her to their room without her waking the whole household with her lament. It was almost worse than her moans. His teasing and the evening in the lilac dress had rendered Rook so scatterbrained that she couldn’t be reasonned with anymore. Emmrich had to do something to end this disaster.
And so he took it upon himself to help keep his dearest quiet.
A yelp of surprise escaped Rook as a gloved hand pressed against her mouth, followed by a shameless moan as the leather on Emmrich’s fingers pressed into her cheeks. His work glove was opened at the palm, where she could lick and press kisses to the warm skin. The contrast of both sensations drove her crazy with need.
It was so rare of Emmrich to be so bold and bossy. She had to seize the opportunity. This was probably the most adventurous sex they had in many years.
Rook grew quiet and went immobile under her lover’s touch, surrendering herself once more to him, letting him dominate her fiery spirit because she knew he would take good care of her and bring her the best of gratifications.
With one hand on her mouth and the second one gripping the dip in her waist tight, Emmrich guided Rook back against him and started fucking her again. Deep and slow at first, then quicker, almost punishingly so as he lost himself into her. She resumed her loud moaning, thankfully muffled this time by his glove. Her bouncing on his hips was a sight for sore eyes, the slapping of skin against skin obscene in a way that usually could have revolted him, but mesmerized him tonight. Rook, indomitable Rook, was gorgeous and at his mercy, trusting him to fuck her brains out like she dreamt of all evening.
Emmrich himself imagined a few scenarios during the meal, all inspired by that lilac dress. But to be this lewd; he never would have thought it possible at his age.
He was surprised he could even handle the impossible rhythm with which he bullied Rook’s pliant body. She was wailing into his palm, drooling even, and he soon brought her weakened body closer to him, holding her steady as her thighs quivered. Her breast was escaping the restraints of her pretty lacy bra from the force of Emmrich’s thrusts in sinfully marevlous bounce. Truly, he never put her under so much vigor, and some part of him almost felt bad for making her cry out like she did. But Emmrich knew her body too well to not understand she was enjoying herself very much.
That height he was guiding her to would be devastating, and she feared it just as much as she wanted it.
Emmrich’s panting breaths fell into her ear and it felt amazing to witness him so hot and bothered. From the corner of her eye, she could see a few lose strands of hair falling on his forehead and sweat pearling on his temple from the effort of it all.
“Come on, take me with you my love” He encouraged her in an impossibly deep hushered voice as his rhythm started to falter from exhaustion, as well as his imminent release.
She felt on the precipice of death. The last small push of her undoing was a hard press of his hand between her legs; probably too rough, but perfect in that moment. With a cry of relief and bliss, she died a little death. Her whole body tensed and shook before it became impossibly relaxed, like she was floating, envelopped in a warm blanket of pleasure.
Emmrich followed after her, releasing as deep inside her as he could with a quiet moan, so careless and indecent compared to his usual habit of pulling out.
He hugged his lover close to him as he tried to get his breathing in check. His heart was thundering in his chest, his pulse thumping in his ears, making him a bit dizzy. He kissed Rook’s temple lovingly to ground himself and comfort her, but for one second, he was afraid she had passed out on him. Her pulse was quivering but weak, and her breathing surprisingly deep despite their recent activities.
“Darling. Are you still with me ?” He asked, worry seizing him once the post orgamisc haze had lifted.
Rook hummed, still conscient but her mind far away as she rubbed her cheek against his lovingly.
“You were amazing. Truly beautiful.” Emmrich praised, relieved. His palm possesively splayed on her lower abdomen, where he filled her more than he ever did. Where she welcomed him and only him.
“Now” Emmrich did his best to gather back his wits and be a gentleman again. “Let’s get you to bed”
When he pulled out of her, he realized how much of a mess he made of her. An alarmed “oh dear” conveyed both his mortification and his pride when he saw traces of him and her drip down her thighs. He carefully bunched up the lower part of her dress, and held it up in one hand so it wouldn’t get stained. He then managed to lift Rook in his arms and carried her bridal style upstairs to their shared bedroom while she giggle blissfully.
There, he took care of her, cleaning her up and helping her change before he brought them both a glass of much needed fresh water. And maybe later, with the lilac dress forgotten on the floor, there was room for another (few) more tender embrace(s).
<center>- - -</center>
The following morning, Emmrich had trouble getting up as early as he usually did. Despite knowing they had a guest to tend to, he still sneaked down to the kitchen in his fanciest velvet dressing gown instead of actual clothes.
Downstairs, he found Manfred calmly reading in the sofa. Emmrich greeted the curiosity spirit, and congratulated him on his quiet behaviour. Together they then started making tea. Strongly infused tea.
Dorian’s footsteps were soon heard in the living room. He flopped onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. He tried his best to maintain his usually smooth and charming attitude but there were noticeable dark circles under his eyes. His complexion was a bit dull too.
Manfred placed a breakfast tray in front of him and Dorian turned away from it, visibly a bit nauseous. He looked up to find Emmrich approaching, nursing a cup of tea. The younger mage couldn’t controle his surprised expression upon seeing his former professor in his night clothes.
“I am truly sorry for the poor display I offered last night Professor. I was so delighted with the evening that I got tricked by the port like a young boy” Dorian said, running a hand through his hair to coiffe it better.
“Oh don’t worry about it. It happens. I myself overindulged too I fear” Emmrich sighed as he sunk onto his favourite armchair. “And please, I already told you to call me Emmrich” He tiredly added.
“Right” Dorian nodded before he asked. “Rook was the most reasonnable one it seemed when it came to intoxication”
A flashing image of Rook’s naked and soundly sleeping figure crossed Emmrich’s mind. When he woke up, he had lovingly pulled the covers over her to keep her warm and comfortable. At this hour, she was still recovering from a different kind of intoxication; one he tried not to think about, least he found himself embarassed in front of their guest.
“If you wish to take a bath, please be my guest” Emmrich redirected the conversation away from his lover, while also doing his best to be a decent host.
Dorian shook his head. “I think I shall leave you. I wouldn’t wish to impose any longer. And I long for a few more hours of rest somewhere I won’t bother anyone.”
Emmrich nodded, placing his cup on the coffee table before getting up.
“I suppose I shan’t see Rook before I leave?” Dorian asked, the hint of a smile lighting his tired expression.
Emmrich cleared his throat and put on his best charming smile, joining his hands together as he did when lecturing. “I am afraid she is feeling a bit under the weather. I could wake her if you’d like
”
Emmrich let Dorain interrupt him on purpose. “Oh no, I wouldn’t want to disturb her
 restful sleep”
Both men exchanged a look that made Emmrich realize they hadn’t been quiet enough the previous night. The tip of his ears turned visibly pink, but Dorian knew from the glare he received that he better not comment on what he suspected.
“I shall leave her a note then” Dorian said, amusement in his raspy voice.
“Yes, yes, perfect” Emmrich agreed and told Manfred to fetch some paper.
<center>- - -</center>
When Rook finally rose from the bed, it was well past noon. Emmrich greeted her with a kiss to her forehead, asking if she slept well. Honestly, she slept like a log. After she nodded, she looked around the house.
“Dorian is gone?” She remarqued, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“I’m afraid so dear. He wished to be at peace to nurse his hangover. But he left a note for you” Emmrich told her as he sat back in his armchair, the newspaper in hand.
Rook took the carefully folded paper from the coffee table. As she scanned the words, her expression switched from amusement to mortification.
“Did you read it?” She asked Emmrich while Manfred brought her a cup of tea that she accepted with enthusiasm, thanking the skeleton like he just brought her the most wonderful of gifts.
“Of course not. That would be most impolite and respectless of me. It is adressed to you dearest”
Rook crawled to the edge of the couch and handed her lover the small piece of paper with a flushed face.
“Dear Rook, I thank you for your hospitality. I had a wonderful evening” Emmrich chose to read aloud, but his voice faltered as the text came closer to its end. “But probably not as enjoyable a night as yours”
Emmrich gulped and Rook hid her face in her hands in mortification as her lover whispered the last line. “I was glad to see you and the professor are blissfull in all aspects of your life as a couple”
Emmrich ran a hand over his face with a muttered “oh dear” and Rook decided that from now on she would wear the lilac dress only when they got out just the two of them.
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lollytea · 1 year ago
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Huntlow situationship gives me such intense brain termites you don't get it
#no i dont think its because Hunter needs time to heal first#i think if it was up to Hunter they would plunge into a committed romantic relationship immediately after the events of the finale#he would propose to her in like. 3 months probably#i know that sounds intense but i think this is what ''i literally died and came back to life'' mania does to a guy#he is so carpe diem minded hes become a little insane. he wants everything#no more waiting around. no more hesitating. he cant afford to do that anymore#would it have been the wise decision to enter a romantic relationship immediately#who's to say. but Hunter would have done it without thinking about it#its Willow that makes the decision to slow down and wait a while before they make any committments theyre not ready for#i dont think she's entirely learned her lesson about letting herself be emotionally reliant every once in a while#shes made progress but the events of ftf were such heat of the moment responses#once things are semi-stable she still needs to adapt to acknowledging that her feelings for Hunter are like. serious. and scarily intense#so like. yea Willow is slamming her pedals on the breaks for both their sakes. shes thinking about how this would effect Hunter too#but also. she scawwed.#when Willow tells him she wants to talk and she's like ''i think we should just be friends'' oh the face he makes is DEVASTATED#he didnt expect it was going in this direction at all. but like. once Willow explains how this is the most reasonable decision for now#he DOES agree. he understands what shes saying and he agrees that it's the best decision to take a breather before they jump into a romance#anyway even when theyre not officially dating the flirting continues insistently. they are very obsessed with each other and cant stop#Willow keeps trying to insist to herself that its just messing around. nothing serious. they find each other hot. its fine to kiss a little#but Hunter makes it very hard when he looks at her with big brown labrador eyes. looks at her like shes the entire world#i think if it was up to Willow they would have been trapped in that uncertain limbo forever. shes too scared to take the plunge#even if she wants to. she badly wants to#but Hunter just wont let that happen. every so often he says ''im ready whenever you are''#he makes his intentions very known. he is not the shy boy from Camila's house anymore#Willow cant just playfully flirt with him without worrying that hes gonna reciprocate. he talks now. he expresses himself#shes a little afraid of that. but she adores it too. he makes her feel safe but also he wont let her stay in this comfort zone#hes giving her the push she needs to pursue this relationship. gives her to push to feel like she can go after what she wants#because god knows HE knows what he wants#they make me so insane
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the-acid-pear · 1 year ago
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Yesterday I was replaying Deltarune and I was going really insane about it picking up on things I missed on my first playthrough and something that fucked me up hard was this line here
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The little ellipsis at the end, almost like you can hear the regret on their voice. Voice of an ad who is realizing maybe they fucked up on this one. But it also made me think of... The possibility of this being a reaction to Spamton's actions.
Because I don't think this was an automatic thing, I feel like their drifting off was gradual. Sure, their jealousy had won them over (I'd have killed the guy or myself if I was them so I don't even blame them) but Spamton was too getting busier and busier the more famous he got, and as they say, that never stopped. He only kept getting bigger, until it all came crashing down. And when it did it was one of them who tried to go find him, after all that.
But I digress, let's focus on the original quote from my favorite sigma enby themselves, Pink Addison. There's obviously not only the regret to it, but feeling like they were abandoned too. Both parties lost a lot and the real tragedy is just how easily it could've have been avoided! Or rather, how beyond their control it was...
But I'll get off topic if I keep speaking so I'll leave it at that. The sheer tragedy that there is to everyone involved just makes me insane. Like I said in a post previous to this; you cannot trace down a good guy or a bad guy in this tale, it's just desperate people taking awful decisions and living to regret their actions.
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hoshigray · 4 months ago
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˙⋆✼ FIRST PERSON SQUIRTER.ᐣ.ᐟ ✼⋆˙ | jjk men
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ê©œáŻ…ê©œ choso, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna & toji × how they deal with a squirter!?
contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size differences (true form! kuna) - kissing/making out - thigh-riding - [anal] fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - sqƯirtǐng (ofc) - facesitting - Daddy kink - 69 + doggy style + full nelson positions - overstimulation - clitoral play (grinding + swiping + pinching) - praising - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, cutiepie, good girl, little thing, etc.) - degradation + humiliation - mention of blood and drool/spit.
word count: 5.3k
a. note: goin on a trip next week, so i leave y'all with this until the next one ☆ enjoy !!
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áŻ“ê©œ Chƍsƍ Kamo
You giggled. “You ready, baby?”
He smiles back. “Bring it on, sweetheart.”
Having a partner willing to try new things with you is undoubtedly a blessing. Wouldn’t you want to try anything and everything with your partner—learning new things and sharing experiences with the person you love and cherish the most in this globe? 
It adds to your trust in one another – an exchange enhances the companionship
even if it’s in the bedroom!
“Okay, Choso, get ready.”
Your boyfriend nods from below you, watching from between your thighs as you descend your lower half where his face is, and the two of you moan once the lips of your labia land on his awaiting tongue.
This was all your idea, by the way: you’re the one who pulled on Choso’s shirt as you two watched the television from his bed, his caramel eyes drifting to you after grabbing his attention. It was difficult to ask at first, stumbling with your words as this embarrassing request isn’t something you make regularly. Once you got your words out, it wasn’t surprising to see your boyfriend a little flustered as you were. 
However, that didn’t stop him from accepting it – albeit bashfully – confidently, igniting a colossal quirk of happiness to affect the glow of his bedroom. So, here you two are, putting this new experience to the test. 
“Mmmm, oh God,” you purr with chewed lips, fighting the urge to swing your hips as Choso mouths you. 
Choso has his hips on your waist to keep you steady as he does his work, using his lips and tongue to please you in this new position. His tongue swims around your inner labia, the folds coated with your wetness mixed with his saliva. You exhale through your nostrils, your thighs sluggishly move to have your man attend to the surface, and you mewl at the flick of your clitoris. Oh shiiit
!
Having you on top of him like this was not something the brunet expected, thinking this would be a lazy day to hang out with his cute companion on this slow Friday. However, to have easy access to taste your fluids within his vicinity in this erotic position...he’s starting to like it a little too much. 
“Ohhh, my God, Choso,” you shrill with a gasp. “You’re so good
Feel so good.”
“Yeah, baby?” He questions below your waist, poking your clit with his tongue. “You like riding my face?” 
He can’t see it, but you nod impetuously. “Yessss! Yees—Shhaaah! Fuck, your tongue
!” You lick your lips and bite as you bring your waist lower, his nose bumping on your clit. “More, give me moreee
!”
“Heh, sure thing,” he titters at your enthusiasm as his hands curl to your buttocks, bringing you further down to his level. You whimper as he sucks on your vulva with purpose, lapping his tongue around to tease your entrance before he pushes it in. Here is where Choso changes the atmosphere, fucking you with his tongue and collecting more of your essence to drink. All you can do is wail and swing your hips faster, and your boyfriend quickly catches the rhythm. Shit, tastes so good
!
“Uhhgg, feels so fucking good—Mmmaa!” Holy hell, this was too much! There’s so much going on underneath you outside your control, only having the command of your waist to influence. Your thighs jiggle as you resort to bouncing on your boyfriend’s face, and your hands ball on the comforter the two of you lay on. 
Choso’s tongue goes frantic, wiggling the wet muscle around your insides and pulling you in to sink more into your overwhelming taste and smell. The more you bounce on his face, the more his nose hits your clitoris, your bud sending shocks up to your head to enlighten the exhilaration! Faster and faster you go, the same for the tongue lapping all over your vulva and sucking on you purposely. 
“Choso..!! Cho—shiiiit—Chosooo!!” You cry out with trenched brows and closed eyes, electric shocks spiraling all over your body with all the growing pressure. 
Your body then gives in, and you let your essence out of your system. Your fluids shower all over Choso’s face as you come on his tongue; your boyfriend is not swayed by the liquid hitting his face, just focused on slurping your wetness covering your cunt. Quivers force your thighs to jolt, jerking your whole frame as you let the waves of your orgasm hit until everything relaxes.
And when it does, you sigh heavily and lift your ass. Choso watches the sight before him, his spit blended with your come all within your inner thighs. The heat from his face spreads to his ears — oh, he hopes he doesn’t get addicted to this.
“Oh my God, Choso,” your boyfriend snaps to your call. “Your face, it’s all wet!”
“Hm? Oh!” It takes a second to realize that he is utterly drenched with your satisfaction, scoffing with a smile. “Guess we both got a bit too excited.”
You chuckle as you leave to grab a hand towel from his bathroom. “I’m sorry about that!”
“It’s okay,” Choso takes off his shirt, which was damp on his collar, and accepts the towel you give him. “As long as you’re feeling good up there, I don’t mind drowning a bit for you, sweetie.”
You shake your head with a smile. “You’re not funny.”
áŻ“ê©œ Nanami Kento
Nothing puts the cherry on top of a hard day at work for Nanami than coming home and being pulled into your arms.
“Nnnmm, Kento, you feel so good
”

And loving on him more affectionately.
You practically dragged your man into the living room, peppering him with smooches in your glee that he had returned home safe and sound, and he chortles as you beckon him to sit on the couch with you. The two of you winding down while watching the television, Nanami relaxing with a nice cold beer and taking off his necktie and blazer.
However, he’s unaware of you glimpsing through your peripheral, looking intently, sliding his tie off his collar and unbuttoning his shirt. You notice the sneak of his exposed collarbone, drifting your gaze to something else only for it to land on his pants. Lips flatten at the sight of his thighs; his hand patting on it makes you stare longer than intended, swallowing thickly to quench a dry throat. 
He was taking a swig of his beer, watching the motion of his Adam’s apple with intent. Your fingers fiddling with the bottom of your sundress can’t jurisdiction your thoughts anymore, wanton desires stacking up and soon to fall like dominoes. 
And when it does fall, you silently stand and walk in front of Nanami, the blonde noticing you come around to obstruct his view of the TV. “My love?” You don’t answer. “Something’s wrong?” No words yet
but you lift your dress, mocha eyes pinpointing to the cute design of your cotton thong. “Sweetheart
” you move to sit again, but not back on the couch—nope—instead, his pant-clad thigh, straddling the firm muscles, and your arms come around to cup his cheeks.
“Kento,” you finally speak, whispering for only his words to pick up. “I missed you.”
If there was one thing that could pull Nanami’s heartstrings, it was you – his pretty wife. So, when you express your love for him, of course, he has to reciprocate tenfold.
“Ooooo, yesss, Ken
please, go faster
Mmmph.”
You stay atop Nanami’s thigh, grinding your labia on his pants to the point that a damp spot is prominent in the tan color. The blonde doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he’s the one who slid your thong for his fore and middle finger to swipe on your clitoris. The touch is pleasant, fueling your waist to keep moving. With your back to his chest, he kisses you passionately from behind. Your sweet tongue meets his, influenced by the taste of alcohol, a strange combination that surprisingly gets the kiss steamier. 
Nanami chews on your bottom lip, having you whimper so sublimely that shivers crawl his spine, sucking on your tongue as your hips go faster. Jesus Christ, the friction from grinding on the material of his pants feels so good, nestling in between your folds nicely and faintly bumping on your clit. However, that is for your husband’s fingers, tweaking the bud you perk to your tippy toes. Hahhh, so good!
“Mmmm, shit,” the golden-haired man curses under his breath before taking your lips into his again. “Come here, angel.” He slams his lips to yours, and you don’t plan to leave his taste as you throw your head back. One arm lifts your legs by the knees, the free hand having more access for him to stick his middle finger into your wetness.
You moan into his mouth, allowing your husband to please you with his fingers rubbing your inner texture. It starts slow until he adds the ring finger, dialing the pace for his fingertips to scratch onto places you could never reach. A hand finds his hair, his neat locks now getting disheveled because of you. 
“Puhaah, ohhh, shit!” You shrill with puffy lips while Nanami kisses your cheek and chin, all the while his digits are brushing up on the upper wall of your vagina — you almost lose balance. “I’m close
!”
The magic words let Nanami know to keep doing what he’s doing, sucking the skin of your neck while shoving his fingers until his very knuckles. The clamp of your walls is sensational, addicting to the point that he doesn’t want to get his digits out yet — not until your high comes to an end.
And that doesn’t sound impossible; you scream as if you don’t have neighbors between your apartment, a watery liquid ejecting out of your glands and showering all around. Sprinkles of your clear juices hit the palm of Nanami’s hand and thigh, adding more stains to his pants to worry about.
 Your heaving body slowly relaxes as your orgasm rattles your bones, Nanami laying more pecs on your beautiful skin as he permits your quaking legs to touch the floor again. Yet, you jerk when your toes feel something wet, snapping out of your daze and realizing what a show you made.
“O-Oh, my—“ you try to stand, but Nanami’s quick to catch you as your body is still under the shocks of your crescendo. “Ugh, I’m sorry, Kento, I messed up your work clothes.”
“No worries, I need to do laundry tomorrow anyway.” The blonde chuckles to your ear and kisses you again, massaging your waist. 
“In that case
would you mind if I dirty your clothes some more?” Your butt presses up on the tent of his groin — which has been getting firmer and firmer once the man stuffed his fingers in you. “I’m sure you’d get some fun out of it.”
He raises a sandy brow with a smile. “Would I, or would you, since you’re the one who came onto me?”
“
A bit of both.” You both share a laugh as Nanami carries you bridally to the bedroom.
“Then I don’t mind at all.”
áŻ“ê©œ Gojƍ Satoru
“Mmmm, can never get over this view~.”
“Can you stop commenting about it?!”
“Whaaat? I can’t say I admire my cutie’s beautiful ass in front of me?”
“You’re so annoying
” you grumble as you sigh and begin to lick the tip of his cock.
It’s been a while since you and Gojo had a good 69 session. He is busy being the strongest sorcerer of the modern era and being a full-time teacher, and you go through your day-to-day life swarmed up with work and routine. Lack of time to spend together is an onerous task to execute outside of sleeping and snoring in your shared bed.
But alas, when you two are finally resting and enjoying each other’s company this weekend, it’s a no-brainer that you two will end up skin-to-skin action sometime today. 
You straddled atop Gojo, your ass facing him while his lower half was to your front, your hand stroking his length cock, following the curve up to the pink tippy top. The sight of precum starting to pool and spill over down your fingertips makes your cheeks hot, and the heat between your legs causes a twitch.
Gojo, however, grins before he kisses your labia, welcoming his tongue that invades the space between your folds. You moan as you stuff your mouth with his cockhead, treating him with peppered licks and sucks as you keep jerking him off. Fucking hell, his dick is just so lengthy, hitting the back of your throat with ease that you have to remind yourself to relax to not gag.
Lazy licks are dawned on your wet chasm, lapping from the clit up to the other end. He notices the subtle quakes of your thighs as he tongues you down and has him chuckle as he pushes his face into your frame more, his hands curling to cup your ass so he can fondle the flesh.
You mumble on his dick after he flicks your clit. “Mmmph
! Hmmmm
” Sucking on his shaft, you bob your head up and down to get accustomed to the limb. Climbing back up to the tip where you suck on it roughly with hallowed cheeks after drizzling it with saliva. 
“Oh shiiit,” the white-haired man’s head hits the headboard of his bed, moaning at the attention you’re giving his cock. “So good at this, angel,” he coos as his hands curl to the front to massage and lightly pat your asscheeks like drums. “Missed this.”
“Mmmm, mmmahh
!” The tip leaves your lips, and you’re quick to keep stroking him as you lick around his crown. “Fuck, so big
”
“Well, thank you, baby,” he knows you’re probably rolling your eyes at that comment, chortling to himself. “Means a lot hearing that from someone who keeps winking at me over here.”
“Pfft, you’re so gross,” you top his cockhead to the flat of your tongue, blowing on it to make your tall partner shiver under you. “So full of yourself.”
“Mmmm, maybe so,” you whine as Gojo blows and sucks on your inner labia. “But you can’t blame me for that, right?”
“What
ever,” your feet come around and pulls his face back to your ass. “Just shut up and use that tongue—since you’re so confident.”
“Heh, so pushy.” But the thing is, Gojo is confident – narcissistically so. You saying that only probed him to flip a switch, and you’re unfortunately on the receiving end of his wrath. 
Gojo’s tongue goes erratic, swishing around your vulva as if you can’t keep up with one lap after the other. Your waist goes to lift your ass away — fat chance, as his hands return behind your butt to keep you on him the entire time. The vibrations of his humorful laugh are felt in the very nerves of your folds.
You whimper aloud, the hand jerking his cock, straying off its rhythm as your body submits to the pleasure going around your lower half. He inserts his tongue into your opening, fucking your slit with pushes and pulls. He sucks your wetness with his mouth, and the hands placed on your ass grip on the flesh that has you standing on your very palms.
“—Khhh..! W-Wait, Satoruu, stop!” You cry, but the tall man only smacks your ass mischievously, having you clamping on his tongue without your conscience. “I-I said waaait!!” No signs of waiting as he stuffs his face further between your thighs; noises of him slurping your vulva sound so wrong!
Oh, my fucking God! Your legs tremble, a sign that you’re trying everything you can to alleviate. However, Gojo’s grip on you doesn’t make it an easy battle, latching onto you with vigor. No, wait, wait, stop i—“Ahaa—ahhhnn!!”
It’s no use; the fluid you release slips past your control, spraying out of the urethra and showering all over your thighs and Gojo’s lower jaw and neck. Your body yields, losing balance and slumping your whole body on top of your boyfriend as you come on his tongue and drizzle all around the space of your lower half. Shocks and quivers travel up your spine to your head to pound, leaving Gojo to keep lapping and swishing on your wet slit in victory. 
“Mmmm, aahhhshit, so good
!” He blinks with hooded eyes as he licks his lips and spits on your vagina to lick slowly. “Taste so good
”
“Hahhh, ahhh, I..I told you to,” you stand on your elbows and look behind. “To
wait, dummy!”
“You told me to shut and use my tongue!” He backfires, not relenting even after sending your half-lidded glare. You groan and turn back to suck on his pink tip in defeat. “Fuck, love it when you’re all wet like this
and lucky me for being in the splash zone as you—Oww!”
You smack on his nuts. “You’re so annoying!”
áŻ“ê©œ Getƍ Suguru
“Suguruuu
! Don’t do th–Ahhht!”
“Ahhhh, you sound so cute, baby.”
Geto plows you from behind, watching you grip the armrest of the couch as your butt is propped up and your face buried to hide yourself
Quite a futile attempt, if he says so himself, but adorable nonetheless. 
Fucking in the living room wasn’t part of the daily routine today, yet here you two are. His hands grab hold of your waist as he conceals his girthy cock inside your tight cunt, stuffing every inch of him till the very hilt meets the lips of your outer lips. 
Your breath is shaky as Geto’s hips move to and fro, sighing at the sensation of your tensed walls around him. You always felt way too fucking good, biting his lip to fight the urge to let his waist fly and piston himself right into you. And he enjoys the way you act as he teases you, the position giving him ideas on how to torment you idly. 
Like now, as he skims a thumb around your asshole. The action of having you contract on him even more. “Nnnn! Nnooooh, don’t play with my ass
!”
“You sure? It’s been winking at me for a minute.” He chimes with a sly smile, licking his finger and switching his thumb to lather your hole with his saliva. Holy shit, the way you’re twitching around him is driving him nuts, as he hasn’t even put anything in yet. 
“Do-Don’t say it like that!” You peer over your shoulder with furrowed brows, meeting the purple eyes that catch you. His hips go excruciatingly slow, your vagina feeling like a void as he pulls for absence before fulling you back as he pushes. “It’s em
barrassin—Ghhhh!”
He pushes the thumb inside while you’re distracted, and both your holes pucker in haste. “Awww, don’t be like that, my love,” his mellow voice doesn’t match the crudeness of his actions, throwing unpredictable snaps of his hips to throw you off. “Nothing about your body is embarrassing
.God, your ass looks so sexy from the back—“
Another twitch of your slit—God, you’re too fucking cute. “What are you—Don’t say stuff like that
!” Your flustered reaction didn’t make it any better as Geto pushed his thumb inside until the dent and knuckle, wiggling it inside and pushing and pulling to toy with your rear. Your teeth clench onto the couch pillow while he increases the cadence of his ruts. “Mmmmm, ohmyGod
Suguu, please—“
“Hmm, you want me to stop?” He asks and observes for a cue to stop what he’s doing. You don’t say anything, though, just your hips swaying. It makes Geto scoff, “I get the feeling you don’t want me to; look at you moving your hips on your own, pumpkin. Your body’s so honest for me.”
“Haaahh, you’re soo
mean, Sugu
”
“Only when I know it makes you feel good,” he moves his bangs out for a bit. “Which is why,” then Geto slithers that same hand down to where your chasm is linked to his wet cock, and his fingers go erratically fast on your clit. “I wanna tease this a bit, too.”
Eyes widen as you shriek at the touch, moaning aloud once he removes his thumb from your ass to keep your butt onto him as he jackhammers his cock into you. Your frame is propelled with every push, the pokes on of your cervix knock you out like the wind, and the hard rubs on your clit have you seeing stars.
“—Ohhooo, oh–hoooo!! Sug’ruuu, waaiitt!!” It’s useless; he doesn’t stop, and more hits to your womb have you wailing uncontrollably. The fingers on your clit don’t let you rest, having you unable to speak a proper sentence and resort to letting your boyfriend pound into you. A few more pinches have your legs jerking, and you can’t help but let the wave smash onto you.
As your orgasm claims over your body, you squirt out, liquids falling onto the couch beneath you, point blank. Your eyes are sewn shut as your slit flutters on Geto’s penis, your substance leaking out of your glans and dirtying your thighs and legs. Oh God, no!!
Geto hisses at the feeling of you spasming on him, tilting his head to see what you’ve done. “Oh my, would’ya look at that~.”
“Shooop, don’t loook
!!” A hand moves to the side to “try” and stop him, but he catches it with his palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t look at iiiit
”
“But you did so well!” Geto kisses your hand. “Maybe I should play with your ass more—“
“Suguru, stop!”
“Kidding~,” he was not.
áŻ“ê©œ Ryƍmen Sukuna
Sukuna relishes the feeling of you like this — your back to his front, your legs held up by his solid upper arms while the lower hands hold your buttocks, and your holes accommodating to his two girthy cocks — like the good pet you are. 
He entirely suspends you, your entire frame contorted for your arms to grip the futon sheets below. Sweat and warmth are exchanged by bare skin, the glow of the candles highlights the unioned figures within Sukuna’s quarters, and your anus and vagina are full of nothing but the two cocks stretching you and rubbing your insides.
Sukuna bucks his hips with might, and his every push makes you dizzy. Toes curl as your ass is pulled up and down to meet his hefty balls, his dicks venturing further to torture your insides with satisfaction. Your vision gets a bit hazy as the heat gets to your head, and your head begins to pound.
“What’s wrong, little thing,” your lips flatten to hinder the moan wanting to escape as he speaks behind you, feeling his breath brush the hairs of your back. “You’re silent this time around.”
“Haaaah, my Lord
” The tongue of his stomach licks your lower back with a lazy kiss. “Y-You’re
too biiig.”
He hits you with a sudden rut and purrs at the clench of your entrances. “You say that, yet your lewd body seems to accustom pretty well.” Another hit of his hips causes the tips of his cock to brush up against your sweet spots effortlessly, and you finally unclench your lips to let a wail escape. “Your body only good for taking cocks like a real good whore, huh?”
“I’m so—Mmmph
! S-Shooo fuuuull
” 
“No, you’re not,” he snickers as his lower left-hand sneaks around to cusp your clitoris, your precious pearl engulfed by the sheer thickness of his digits. “Not until I fill you with my seed like a sow in heat.”
The salmon-haired man picks up the pace to drill his cocks, churning your vagina and rear like toys. Your cries fly out quickly at the point, puffy lips losing ground to stay locked. Hands balled into fists as you’re threatened by the sheer mass of Sukuna, unable to fight out of this—forced to submit to him and his persistence.
Your slit and butt are so busy with his cocks, the length of your vagina grazing your G-spot by its underside, the walls fluttering involuntarily around him. The dick inside your butt feels so utterly good; the size of him is never something you can get fully habituated to. And the hand on your clit doesn’t stop playing with it, roughly pushing and grinding on it to the point of babbling and choking on spit. 
“—Hnnngh, fuck. So tight,” Sukuna licks your back and nibbles on your skin, teasing to tear your skin to taste just a hint of blood. “Feel so good
”
“Ahahhh, I caaan’t
!” Your eyes begin to water as you shut them close, lack of vision enhancing the sense of touch where it has your nerves overly stimulated. Everything is happening all at once, and you can sense the climb once the tip hits your womb. “I can’t do iiit! You’re gonna break meee!!”
“Keheh, wouldn’t be the first time.” It’s probably for the best because you can’t see the smug-ass grin on his oddly comely face. More kisses are placed on your back. “Shut up and take it, dove,” he commands you, not leaving you any room to retaliate as his thrusts increase without warning. 
Your mouth is agape, and your cries are unwillingly bouncing around the shoji-paneled walls. A bit of spit comes down your lips, your hands only finding Sukuna’s waist for your nails to dig into. The grumble of his stomach traversing to your core to rumble with the vibrations. Oh, God, noo!! You can feel it – the worse of the worse. Just when you thought your humiliation wasn’t enough at this moment, it was about to skyrocket in three
two
one.
Feverish ruts to your ass, have the reins slip out of your hold, all the restraint in your body withering with every harsh push and pull. Your head pounds like crazy, nothing but a blur can be seen in your eyes, and the clear substance expels out of your urethra, leaving out of your system along with your dignity. 
And Sukuna doesn’t have to see it to believe it, grinning from ear to ear as he playfully smacks on your vulva to create more of a mess. The watered-down liquid sprayed out to his thighs and the futon sheets and sticking to your inner thighs and sliding down the crack of your ass. Tiny pinches to your clit help you jerk out more to ruin yourself, your body losing strength entirely and letting the cursed man keep you in your distorted position. 
“Hmph, what a bad little toy,” he criticizes you like always, the tears beckoning to leave your watery eyes. “Look at you causing a mess on my bedding; who told you to do that?”
“I’m sorry, Lord Sukuna,” your expression borderline fucked out, yet the embarrassment keeps you humble. “Forgive me
my Lord.”
Sukuna slaps onto your clit with his palm; you pucker onto his girths immediately. “You dare ask for forgiveness after the fact—I should just throw you out in the cold with these wet sheets you’ve caused.”
“N-Nooo! I’m so sorry!!” Fuck, he loves it when you plead, so desperate for his word, his submissive and breakable dove. “Pleaseee, fill me up with your seed, and I will clean it up
! I-I won’t do it again
”
“Says who?” He finally lets your legs go briefly before he spreads them over with his lower arms. His upper hands find your chest to grope. “You’ve stained my sheets with your essence; you aren’t sleeping anywhere else tonight except here with me in this exact puddle you made for yourself, you dirty pet. Am I clear?”
His final words have your skin crawl as he nibbles on your nape, and you nod.
“Good.”
áŻ“ê©œ Fushiguro Tƍji
“Gahhh!! Ahhhhh!!”
“Yeah, baby, that’s it; keep clenchin’.”
Toji’s fingers are stuffed inside you, stretching your poor hole with pushes and pulls that take your breath away with ease—quite literally as your arms come around his neck to keep him close.
His bedroom is filled with nothing but you: your shorts and panties decorating his bedroom floor, the smell of your lotion on your now-sweaty skin intoxicating his senses, and your damp towel laid underneath you as you lie on your back.
Toji sits right beside you, near as you keep him from leaving. Not that he planned to — of course not. When he has his ring and middle finger shoved inside your vagina and grazing your inner skin with a mediocre pace, there’s no way the older man would want to stop now. Fuck, he loved how tight your cunt was, so snug to the touch and tender to his fingertips. It drove him crazy, just like you always make him. He can never get tired of you, honestly. 
“Hahhhh, Tojiii, ahhaaa
” Your whimpers get louder and louder by the second, and your back jerks to the blunt of his fingertips, poking deep inside your chasm. “Gooohh, ohhhshit
!”
“Yeah, sweetie?” His forehead touches yours, skin-on-skin increasing intimacy. “Ya like it when I fuck you wit’ my fingers, huh?” You answer with a whine as he slows his digits down, teasing the walls of your entrance while pressing on your clit with his thumb. He scoffs, “So nice and tight fr’ me, huh
”
“Ahhhh..! Bu–But I just
finished taking a showerrr!!” You wail with pleading hooded eyes that are instantly locked with intense viridian ones. “You’re making me—mmm!—dirty again
!”
He raises a brow. “That doesn’t mean anythin’ to me,” more push to your clitoris causes your body to jolt closer to Toji, and he sneers. “Getting all ready and clean fr’ me, what a good girl
all the more fun fr’ Daddy to make ya all dirty and cryin’ all over again.”
A hand grips his shoulder, exposed by his black wife-beater. “Pleasee, Daddy, it’s too—Aghahh!” He sneaks his fingers back inside knuckle-deep; the deep chuckle you hear from him causes your ears to melt. 
“C’mon, mama, I know you have it in ya,” he coos with a kiss to your forehead that has you dissolve under his scarred lips. “Wring my fingers up, make a mess fr’ me.”
Another kiss to your forehead makes you whine, the gentle atmosphere only lasting for mere seconds before the pace of his hand returns to a rhythm that has you screaming instantly. Jesus Christ, those thick fingers are no joke, the stretch enough to overwhelm your senses, along with how deep they reach inside. 
Every push to your cunt has you breathless, and every dig is knuckles-deep and too fast to catch up with one after the other. “Ohoooo, D-Daddyyy, n-nooo!” Yet there’s no point in begging now—once Toji is deadset on something, it’s challenging to swade him off. Especially when it comes to you, his little sweet thing
 “I’m gonna—ohfuuck!—I’m so clooose
!”
Your words only egg Toji on to keep fingering you as much as he can, ravaging your delicate insides with his hand alone. He purchases his face to your neck, sighing deeply at the alluring whiff of your lotion. He licks your skin before a kiss, and the pace between your legs becomes unforgivingly faster.
Eyes roll up to the ceiling as your body shuts down without your knowledge, completely taken aback by the climax that clenches around the thickness of Toji’s fingers. Also, the water liquid is excreting projectively from the continuous knock-kneed-worthy pleasure. You let loose with a howl, your back arching with every subtle buck of your hips. 
Toji looks down with a salacious grin, taking in the sight of you spraying all over his bed. The towel is doing nothing but getting damper because of you, and he can only chortle at the sight and, lowkey, thank his intuition for wearing a wife-beater so you can coat his forearm. Dazed with euphoria, your body slumps down to the sheets, sweaty and sticky from the excretions and panting heavily. So much for a shower, huh?
Toji whistles and courses his free hand atop your head while besmearing your vulva with your juices. “Good girl, mama, good fuckin’ girl.”
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© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✼ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly âŠč header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.
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sttoru · 2 months ago
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tags. dad!toji x wife!reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘doll’
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“toji, you’re gonna break that thing,” you stifle a laugh as you watch your husband’s muscular form squeeze into one of the playground equipments. megumi is on his lap, giggling as he gets to experience what it’s like to go down a slide with his parent.
toji rolls his eyes and grumbles something along the lines of ‘the damn brat forced me to’. you know how weak that man gets when his son looks up at him with those big, sparkly blue eyes. you’d have given in to megumi’s requests as well if you were in his place. thus you don’t blame your lover at all.
“papa, go!” the little boy pats his dad’s thighs, excitedly smacking the muscles. the pure glee on his tiny face makes you smile as you witness the scene from the bench nearby.
“give me a sec, kid,” toji responds with a grunt. his legs are pressed tightly against each other, trying to wiggle down the slide. his body isn’t going anywhere— not even moving down one centimetre.
you can’t help the laugh that erupts from your throat while you watch toji struggle. the confused and impatient look on megumi’s face as he glances up at his father is pure gold. “papa go?” your son pouts and squirms.
this is embarrassing for toji. he can’t wait to get off and go home. the only thing he can do is pray that no one else sees this view of a grown ass man stuck on a slide.
you pull out your phone and start recording the hilarious sight. “hun,” you call out to toji, covering your mouth while giggling behind the camera. “you can do it!”
your humorous encouragement makes the dark-haired man kiss his teeth, “tsk, quit that.” he manages to move his legs in a certain way so he could glide down. the process however is quite. . slow.
toji’s body stutters and goes down the slide in a wonky way. megumi is not amused at all as he sits there and stares downwards, cheeks puffed up. he expected to go much faster than this.
the toddler looks like he’s about to complain the moment he reaches the bottom.
“mamaaaaaa!”
as expected, the little boy quickly hops off toji’s lap, leaving his humiliated dad sitting at the end of the slide. megumi runs off to you and jumps up onto your lap, an angry yet adorable frown on his face. he whines and hugs you, refusing to face your husband who’s walking towards you.
toji scoffs at the sight. “oi, you ungrateful little shit,” he comments and crosses his muscular arms over his chest, “y’ should be thanking me for squeezin’ my ass up on that tiny thing.” he glances down at his son who’s clearly sulking in your arms, disappointed in his performance.
you’d usually scold toji for using such foul language around the kid, though you can’t stop yourself from giggling at the situation. megumi actually got offended by his dad being unable to properly go down the slide with him; it’s adorable.
“no, papa shit!” megumi retorts unexpectedly, causing you to laugh even louder. you shake your head and try to make a serious face - to reprimand your child from saying such words - only to fail.
toji clearly didn’t expect the boy to mimic him again. he raises an eyebrow and you know he’s not going to hold back. that man will fight anyone, even his own son who’s only a toddler.
“whadd’ya say there, bud?” your husband huffs and takes a step forward. megumi squeals as he feels the intimidating aura of his dad get closer to him. he squirms off your lap and runs off into the playground, squeaking.
you watch your child scurry off in attempt to escape toji. you grin to yourself, seeing the excitement return on megumi’s face at the aspect of playing with his parent.
toji runs a hand through his messy black hair as he sees the toddler run around the park, excepting him to follow and play with him. he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it’s adorable how his son never stays mad at him for long.
it perfectly describes the father-son relationship they have. he wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
toji then shoots you a smirk, leaning down so you’re face to face. he flicks your forehead gently and pinches your cheek, reminding you of one thing before going off to chase after megumi;
“i’ll be dealing with ya later for that video y’ made, doll. don’cha think i forgot.”
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monstersflashlight · 2 months ago
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Day 1. Monster-kinktober: Marking the territory + Cockring-plugs/Massaging
Werewolf x fem!reader || marking, breeding, cock-ring, dirty talk (low key) || tw: pregnancy talk
When he told you he was about to go into rut, you were worried about babies, neither of you didn’t have an accidental pregnancy but you were both pretty into breeding, especially when he was that close to going feral because of his werewolf hormones. So you called in a few favors and got a witch to enchant a cock-ring. At first you were skeptical, so that’s why he was trying it today as you went to work.
You spent about fifteen minutes that morning massaging his knot until it was fully set in your hand so you could slip the cock-ring on him. It was supposed to keep him in that state for a long time and made it impossible for him to come. He was pretty cocky about it in the morning, as you massaged him, he kept telling you how there was no way that ring could fit around his big knot. How your pussy felt a lot nicer than your hand around his knot. How pretty you would look when it broke and you’d be left full of cum. How pretty you’d be full of his pups before the month ended. (And not gonna lie, that made you a little more than horny).
But you didn’t let him get away with it, massaging his balls until he was shooting his come all over your tits and his face was contorted with pleasure. You slipped the ring on before he could process it, and his cum instantly stopped. You giggled as he gave you the stink eye, trying to catch you but failing as you ran out the room to get dressed. You called over your shoulder and told him to be good for a couple hours...
And that’s why you come home to find him in your bed, rubbing his massive erection against the sheets, unable to come. He looked as pathetic as ever, whimpering and groaning your name, face buried in your pillow. He was so gone in his pleasure that he didn’t even realize you were there until you spoke.
“Hell-” But you didn’t have time to finish the word before he was turning around, eyes bloodshot and fangs bared. He looked feral, and a spike of fear bloomed inside of you. He looked at you for a total of two milliseconds before he was jumping from the bed and into your personal space.
He knocked you off and tore your clothes off in the same movement. You were expecting him to be desperate when you came back, but you weren’t expecting him to be like that, to be so desperate. And then it clicked. He went into heat. He went into heat when you weren’t there and his knot was unable to go down or release. You practically condemned him to werewolf sex-torture, and he had to endure it for two hours. Poor baby.
His claws were out and he was trying to get your panties off, but ended up tearing them, too. “Slow down
” You told him, pulling at his hair and making him bare his fangs at you.
“No,” he growled.
You laughed for a total of half a second before he was pushing his dick inside of you, his knot unable to slip inside because of how big it was. He kept grinding and fucking into you, growling like a madman because he couldn’t come. You shivered and screamed his name. You were on edge all day, wet thinking about him at home, alone and hard
 And now you were stuffed full of werewolf dick and you couldn’t even focus on words anymore.
“Mine,” he growled. He started a frantic rhythm, your body moving on the floor as he thrust inside of you.
“Yours. Yours. Yours,” you chanted. He was being so rough and careless, his nails digging into your hips and his fangs so close to your neck that you knew you will end the night with a huge bite-mark there. That would be hard to cover, but at that moment, with his knot pressing against your clit and his dick hitting your G-spot you couldn’t care less.
“I’m going to mark you. I’m going to come so deep inside of you that you will be feeling me for days.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his dick, his knot still outside your body. You were dripping, but it was not enough
 not yet. “I’m going to fill you so much you are going to be full of pups by the end of it,” he continued. You knew that couldn’t be as long as he had the ring on, but the thought made you shiver and let out a big groan.
He kept thrusting until you came once, twice
 and by the time your third orgasm was almost sneaking on you, you felt his fangs sink in your neck at the same time you felt something release and his knot slipped inside. You cried out in ecstasy when his knot filled you completely and he started to come in you.
You opened your eyes widely as you felt his release inside, unable to move or do anything apart from groaning at the indescribable pleasure running through your body. It felt better than heaven, and your brain was too fucked out to process whatever just happened when you were so full of hot werewolf knot.
“Did it break?” You asked as your orgasm receded. Your breath was labored as he kept coming inside of you, his knot pressing against your sweet spot. “Did the cock-ring break? I’m going to kill that witch,” you said as you felt the next shoot inside of you. There was so much of it that you could feel it slipping around his knot, making a mess out of you.
“Told you it wouldn’t work,” he gloated with the biggest smirk on his face, kissing your nose.
“Ugh, I hate your inhuman dick,” you grumbled. You wanted to be annoyed, but his dick was pressing against your G-spot and he was being so fucking cute you couldn’t even be mad about it.
“Liar,” he groaned as you felt another shoot of his cum inside of you. That felt so fucking good your eyes rolled back into your head. “You are going to be so full
 Everyone is going to know you are mine,” he mumbled half asleep as he kept rocking his hips slowly. You tried to worry, but the pleasure was so great you didn’t care.
He was in heat, and that meant you would be stuffed and fucked for the next three days at least
 you would enjoy the ride. Whatever happened would be future you problem.
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classyrbf · 3 months ago
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ᯓ★ BETTER THAN YOUR BOYFRIEND! — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS...what happens when your boyfriend cheats on you and you look towards your best friend for help
INFO...jjk men (toji, gojo, geto, nanami) x fem!reader, reader gets cheated on, riding, sending a video to your ex, oral (f!receiving), car sex, kinda cute/some fluff in the beginning, pet names (doll, princess, baby, sweetheart), creampie, possessiveness, choking, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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ᯓ★ TOJI
When you showed up on Toji’s doorstep in the middle of the night with tears pouring down your face he was more than ready to kill whoever made your cry. He wasn’t surprised when you told him your shitty boyfriend had cheated on you and not with just one girl but multiple. Toji never liked your boyfriend, he could tell that guy was up no to good from the start, reading him like a book. He’d be sure to beat the shit out of him once he helped you gain composure.
“I’m sorry for showing up so late,” you hiccuped as he wiped your tears.
“Don’t worry about it, doll. You know I’m always here for you.” He gave you a soft smile. Toji hated to see you this way, you were too pretty to be crying over some guy who looked like he crawled from the sewers. “That guy was a piece of shit. You deserve better.”
“But, every guy I’ve been with or tried to be with has done me so wrong!” It only made more tears spill from your eyes. Toji engulfed you in a hug, rubbing your back. “Toji?” You sniffled.
“Yeah?” He pulled away from you, wiping your tears again.
“Kiss me. Right now,” you demanded. You had to see for yourself if what you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks was absolutely true. Toji had zero clue, but you’ve been thinking about him way too much, more than a best friend should, feeling more than a best friend should. And when he planted his lips on yours, cupping your face, kissing you like a starved man, you didn’t quite expect your tears of sadness to be turned into tears of pleasure.
“Nnngh, Toji!” You moaned, his fat tip rubbing against your g-spot with each thrust of his hips. Your arms clung around his neck, fingers resting in his black silky hair.
“Can’t—mmm, fuck—believe he’d cheat on you! His fucking loss!” He growled in your ear, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, hugging you close to him. Your pussy clenched down around him, milking him for his every worth, juices dripping down his length and onto his balls. “So tight, doll—oh shit!” He grunted. Lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room, echoing off the walls around you. “Been wanting you forever, craving you.”
Your brows furrow in pleasure, barely able to contain your moans as you and Toji stare into each others eyes. “M-me too!” You whimper, nodding your head at him. You lips messily interlock, tongue gliding against one another, swallowing each others moans.
“Let’s show him what he’s missing, baby.” He smirks, reaching for your phone on the couch. His thrusts come to a stop, clicking on your now ex boyfriend’s contact and opening the camera to record a video. “Go nice and slow for me,” he says huskily.
Slowly, you move your hips up and down his thick shaft, whimpering when you feel him throb against your walls. Toji angles the camera up, a devious look in his eye. He moves it back down when you start to move faster, you sloppy pussy squelching when you slam your hips down on his. Toji slaps your ass a few times before grabbing it, guiding your hips to go slower once again. “That’s it, doll. Good fucking girl,” he lowly chuckles in your ear. Toji ends the video, sending it and tossing the phone to the side.
“I can’t believe we actually did that,” you giggle, biting down on your lip. Not even one minute passed before your phone began ringing, vibrating on the couch but you were too busy getting your brains fucked out to even notice. “Ah, you’re so deep,” you mewl, the curve of his dick making your back arch.
“Better get used to it cause we won’t be stopping anytime soon.” He placed a wet kiss on your neck, sloppily thrusting into your poor pussy. “You’re my girl now.” He’s slamming your hips back down on his cock, fucking you deeply, making sure every inch of him is coated in your juices. He quickly pulls out, jerking his cock before thick globs of cum coat your skin before he’s inserting himself back inside your dripping entrance. Neither of you noticing the five missed calls and fifteen unread texts from your ex.
ᯓ★ GOJO
As soon as you called Gojo crying, he basically teleported to your house. When he learned that your boyfriend had cheated on you and you kicked him out, he was the least bit shocked. For the past month you’ve told Gojo that your boyfriend has been acting off, and finally the truth came to light.
“I’m so sorry,” he frowned, rubbing the top of your head as you cried into his chest. It hurt Gojo to see you like this, constantly seeing you get hurt by these shitty guys who didn’t know any better. He had a massive crush on for the longest time and he’s always been afraid to say anything. He’d treat you better, treat you the way you’ve always deserved.
“I just don’t it, Toru! Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You frowned.
“No, no! It’s not you all! You’re absolutely perfect. He’s a fucking asshole for not seeing that sooner. You’re kind, funny, smart, and beautiful. You’re everyone’s dream girl, y/n.” It may have sounded like he was only trying to be nice, but in reality he was speaking from his heart.
“Awe, Toru, thank you,” you giggled through your tears. Gojo looked at you few seconds, the most sincere expression written on his face.
So how, in only a few minutes, did he make you go from giggling to moaning like bitch in heat?
“Feel better, princess?” He mumbles against your cunt, sucking on your swollen and sensitive clit. “Please tell me you feel better,” he whines.
“Toru—mmph! What’s—ah! Oh my god!” He slides his long, slender fingers into your sopping hole, pumping them in and out, curling them up slightly. Your jaw falls slack at the way his tongue expertly explores your folds, licking up every last drop of your essence. Your hand clings to his fluffy white hair, his hands pushing your legs open each time they threat to close around his head.
“Taste so good, princess. Just like I imagined—mmm,” he moans at your delectable taste, ignoring the way your squirming in his hold and clenching around his fingers as your second orgasm approaches. His captivating eyes flutter open to look at you, watching the way you lose yourself on his tongue. He could tell your boyfriend—ex boyfriend has never pleasured you like this before, let alone made you cum.
“Fuck!” You gasp. “Feels so good—hah, shit! Toruuu!” You cry out, legs quivering when the tip of his tongue runs back and forth over your clit.
“Promise me something, yeah?” He moves his fingers in and out of your sloppy hole slowly, bringing you right on the edge. “Be mine? I’ll treat you so good, princess. Been wanting to for the longest time, god, you’re so fucking perfect. Please?” He presses soft kisses to your thighs that make your breath hitch.
“You’re confessing now?!” You chuckle, trying to catch your breath.
Gojo smiles up at you. “Is that a yes?” He quirks a brow. He presses the pads of his fingers against your g-spot massaging slowly.
“Ah,” you bite down on your lip, “you’re no fair!” You run your fingers through his hair. “It’s a yessssuhh.” You’re barely able to get the word out before he dips his head between your legs again, his wet tongue circling your clit. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m cumming again!” Your head is thrown back as your entire body shakes with pleasure.
“Thank you, princess,” Gojo murmurs.
ᯓ★ NANAMI
Nanami noticed you haven’t been yourself for the past couple of days and he didn’t dare to ask but he had a feeling it had something to do with that obnoxious and egotistical boyfriend of yours. It always had something to do with him no matter what. He didn’t think of it when you asked him if you can come over and watch a movie, but not even five minutes in the door you start explaining everything. You didn’t cry, just talked and talked about it, venting about the situation. He was glad to be an ear. He’ll always be here to help.
“I’m just so frustrated and I hate feeling this way!” You rolled your eyes.
“Maybe you need to deal with it in other ways rather than venting,” he suggested.
“Like what? Drinking my problems away? I’d rather not.” You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal.
What didn’t cross your mind was the fact your best friend was talking about having you bent over, fucking you into the mattress. “K-Ken! F-fuck!” Your eyes squeeze shut when he thrusts his hips harder, the tip of his swollen cock pressing into your sweet spot.
His thick fingers squeeze into your plush skin, pulling you back onto his cock. He leans over next to your ear, breath fanning against your skin sweaty skin. “He doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you. Not like I do.” He peppers kisses down your back, a contrast of you screaming his name.
Your walls squeeze around him at his words, your pussy somehow growing wetter than it already was, creating a sloppy and sticky mess where you two met. Your hands grasped the sheets below. “Yes, Ken, handle me, show me you can handle me!” You grit your teeth, looking back at him.
A feral growl escapes his throat, blonde hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. He reaches a hand down, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushes your head into the mattress, the sound of skin to skin slapping against each other growing constant as he fucks your hard and deep with such a grueling pace. “I can handle you, sweetheart,” he chuckles deeply. “Better than your boyfriend.” He licks his lips.
“Mmm—ah, yes!” You laugh with a smile. “Ex.” You’re quick to correct.
“Who gives a fuck what he is—hah, shit, sweetheart, gripping me so damn tight.” He’s so focused on the way your ass ripples against his hips, addicted to how warm and wet your cunt is. It was hypnotizing. Your jaw hung open, eyes rolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth and onto the bed below you. Each rut of his hips had you going stupid, barely able to think.
Successfully, you can say that his method of dealing with your problems has worked better than you could’ve imagined. “Feel so good inside me! Don’t stop!” You cry out, voice wavering. The stretch of his cock against your gummy walls had you craving more. So much more to the point you wanted to feel all of him. “Cum in me.” You’re bitting down your lip so hard you’re afraid you’ll draw blood.
Those three words have Nanami’s eyes wide in excitement. His body runs hot, your words making the blood rush straight to his pulsating cock. “D-don’t say stuff—mmph—like that,” he grunts.
“I thought you could handle me?” You’re smirking, playing with fire. His rough hands grip onto your hips harder, hard enough to leave bruises. Each thrust of his ragged hips shoots bolts of pleasure through your core.
His brows furrow in concentration, grunts and growls mixing in with your moans as his abs tense up, body jolting forward as his sloppily thrusts into your greedy hole. “I can handle you better than anyone else and you know it!” His hand swats your ass, a loud smack cracking in the air. “Nngh, shit!” Before he knows it, his tip kisses your cervix, pulling you back on his cock as his hot cum paints your walls.
ᯓ★ GETO
When you told Geto about your boyfriend cheating on you, he knew you’d needed to be comforted despite what you said. So he planned a day just for you to do your favorite things in attempts to take your mind off of things, but he could see that you were still thinking about it deep down. The both of you sat in the car, watching over the city lights while music quietly played on the radio. The orange sunset casted a hue over the world, shining brightly.
“I’m sorry I just can’t get it out of my head.” You pout, fiddling with your fingers. “I appreciate you doing this, Suguru.”
“Of course, y/n. It’s the least I could do.” He gave a half smile, caressing your back.
“It just keeps replaying over and over in my head,” you shut your eyes, “I hate it. Nothing takes my mind off of it no matter what!” You ran your hand over your face, slouching in the passenger seat.
“Well, there’s something we haven’t tried yet.” Geto raised a brow, shrugging his shoulders.
“What?” You asked, confused.
Minutes later your knees are to your chest, the sheer force of his hips rocking your body into the seat of the car. Strands from his messy bun cling to his forehead, sweat dripping between the divots of his abs. His calloused hand presses down on your lower abdomen, the pad of his thumb reaching down to rub your neglected clit. “Sugu!” You cry out, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.
The car shakes with his feral and animalistic thrusts, the curve of his cock finding your sweet spot, knocking the breath out of you. You’re panting and gasping, clawing at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Come on, baby, you can do it.” His lips quirk up into a smirk, his hand reaching out, slipping his fingers into your mouth to suck on. “Let it all go for me.” He moves at a rapid pace, your eyes rolling back and your body going limp, hands falling to your sides.
He removes his fingers from your mouth, his hands gliding down to your throat, fingers ghosting over your skin before he carefully wraps his hand around it, gripping it firmly. “I’ll make you forget everything about him. You want that, don’t you? Fill that pretty little head of yours with nothing else but me.” His sultry words send shivers down your spine. A devilish chuckle escapes from him when he feels you flutter around his throbbing length. “Nnngh,” he plants a wet kiss on your jaw, “cum for me.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m cumming!” You scream, eyes widening at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Yes, yes!” You squeal, legs shaking as he continues to rub your clit, dragging every last bit of your orgasm out of you.
His heavy balls slap against your ass at a rough pace, threatening to spill his seed inside of you. “Want to mark you, show that asshole who you’ve always belonged to!” Sinful eyes stare back at you.
Fat tears roll down your cheeks. “I’m yours! I’m y-yours! Ahh!” He puts more pressure on your clit, your body jolting, squirming beneath him.
“Hah, fuck, baby!” He moans, jaw falling open as he tosses his head back. He clenches his jaw, grunting as he keeps the same fervent tempo. He watches the way your filthy pussy clings to him so tightly, your juices forming a ring at the base of his cock, creating a sticky, slimy mess. His thrusts grow hasty, hungry for his orgasm, itching to see you coated in his cum.
He bullies his cock into your cunt, snarling and moaning at how rapidly his orgasm was nearing. He pulled out of you with a drawn out moan and instinctively your soft hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him until you felt warm cum drip onto your stomach.
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yanderestarangel · 2 months ago
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âŠč₊⟡⋆ đ“Żđ“Ÿđ“Źđ“Žđ“źđ“­ đ“œđ“ž đ“Ș đ“¶đ“žđ“·đ“Œđ“œđ“źđ“»... đ“Żđ“Ÿđ“Źđ“Žđ“źđ“­ đ“«đ”‚ đ“Ș đ“¶đ“žđ“·đ“Œđ“œđ“źđ“»
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♡⁠┊TW — dp, anal sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, monster fuck, praise, breeedkink, afab reader, dark smut, dead dove, Ghost has two dicks here (because I chose to write it like that)
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"Don't look anywhere else, look at me... I'm still your husband." The words were followed by the wet sound of the two cocks of your now radioactively-rayed husband, who looked like a monstrous anomaly — with two extra heads, two extra arms, and... two extra cocks.
You hadn't expected that in thousands of years, but when Simon came out the door completely safe and sound, looking like that was shocking and at least scary to your eyes.
Even so, you were on your hands and knees, feeling one of his cocks enter your ass while the other filled your wet pussy, making you whimper loudly as you felt his very hot and heavy balls hit your clit with the slow thrusts that the military man was giving you.
You could feel every pulsing vein of his shafts in your wet holes, the slickness between your thighs and his groin increasing. His now gray eyes were locked completely on your figure, two of his four arms gripping your waist while the other two held your wrists behind your back, ready to dominate and maneuver you as he pleased.
Hearing your moans of acceptance, his two cocks throbbed like never before, impaling you to the point where you even forgot that your partner was now a shadow of what he once was.
All that mattered in that moment was that you could take every inch of what he was giving you, as if your life depended on it—as if every fluid that came out of his cocks was a poison that made you crave more and more of him.
The slow, flesh-to-flesh pounding that had once been tender was now replaced by Simon's almost animalistic movements above you. A little drool dripped from your mouth as you could only wriggle your toes every time one of his cocks reached the tip of your womb while the other kissed limits you didn’t even know existed.
Grunts escaped his lips, muffled by the mask that was now completely part of his skin, fused to his flesh like a second garment. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough to leave marks as a hoarse growl came from his throat, echoing like a triad through his three heads.
"Come on, sweetheart... I know you want to cum, don't deny it... cum for me." His words were tinged with the same honey that once soothed your soul. It was still him, even with that new body—and you felt yourself becoming addicted to it, like a drug, leaving you with pleasure so intense it made your system shut down.
You felt him give one final thrust, and at the same time, your pussy was filled with the warm, viscous liquid of his semen. Your other hole was filled as well, causing tears to spill from your eyes as you whimpered from how full you were. But your partner didn’t stop—Simon continued with small thrusts until he felt your inner walls drain him. One of his many hands moved to your pussy lips, slowly opening them to expose your tight slit as it swallowed his cock.
"I won’t let you leave here until I see you beautiful, full, and carrying my children in your belly... Do you understand, my angel?" His words left no room for argument, and no matter how tired you were, saying "no" wasn't an option. After all, you wanted him too, regardless of his appearance. He was still yours.
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shadow4-1 · 4 months ago
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"Can you just pretend to love me tonight? Please?"
Simon's never gotten a request like this before.
He's never had any qualms about selling his body. Whether it was for his cock, units of his blood plasma, or his war honed body. He's always done what he's had to - anything to stay off the streets and keep a full belly.
The girls who've paid him always wanted a brute, someone to mount them and take them for all they were worth. That was what he was used to, not some doe-eyed sweet thing begging him to be gentle.
"I want to feel loved." You admit, leaning back on the motel bed, thighs crossed in nervousness. "I um...I know I'm not very pretty-"
Simon leans forward on his knees and kisses you gently. Well, he tries to. The tip of your teeth graze painfully together as he mouths you. You squeak beneath him, hands going up to his shoulders to try and push him off on rabbit instinct. He pulls his mouth off of you just enough to mutter an apology.
"Sorry." He swallows.
You look up at him with impeccably beautiful eyes brimming with tears. You seem to finally understand there's nothing gentle about him even when he tries to be. Simon wants you to call him off, send him out of the cheap hotel. He knows he can't be as sweet at you want - as you deserve. He's just physically not built for that. At least, he's sure of it nowadays. He has a brief memory of holding his newborn nephew but it slips away just as quickly as it came.
"Can we just...go slow?" You ask again. Simon can hear the waver in your voice. You're unsure if you want to continue, but you seem to trust him for some reason. "Really, really slow?"
"Yeah."
He can do slow. He can do glacial. If there's one thing he can do, it's be measured, methodical. He wasn't a Lieutenant for nothing.
For the first time in years, he takes his time. He's used to the fast paced, hungry fucks that pay his rent in thirty minutes. This is...new, not wholly uninvited. He kisses down your collarbone, down the swell of your breasts. He nips at the lacy fabric (you dressed up for him when he was expecting just to rip it all off) as he makes his way down further. He laps at the skin beneath your belly button, making your belly flutter. Ticklish. He likes that.
Simon noses his way between your thighs, easily spreads your legs with his thick forearms. As he kisses down your cloth covered mound he admits he likes how you smell. Usually the taste of women turns him off. He prefers men, but desperate women pay more. You're desperate alright, although its a different type of desperation. Something about the nervous wetness staining your new panties has his cock jumping in his trousers. He presses his nose to the fabric, inhales deeply, and relishes in your shy squeak. Simon starts to understand your desire.
You want to be explored, mapped, and consumed slowly. You want to give up control but feel as if you can stop at any moment. You want to be seen, tasted, then completely devoured.
Instead of slipping your panties to the side, he licks his way down your thighs. You squeal and try to squirm away from the sudden sensation but he doesn't stop. He kisses down your calves and across the top of your feet. His hands are so large that they wrap around your soles completely. Simon pushes them up until they're up by your ears. He knows the position is uncomfortable for you, but he likes the view of your soft, cloth covered mound.
He nips at the back of your ankles and calves, licks down the expanse of your thighs, ans nuzzles into the gusset of your panties. Simon relishes in the squeaks and gasps ans twitches of your expectant body. It's been so long since he's teased someone, much less a sweet lil' thing like you.
Your scent is heady, comforting, nothing like he's experienced before. He finds he really likes just inhaling you in. You whimper, thighs shaking already. He hasn't even licked you yet. Simon finally admits to himself that you're stroking his ego.
He plants a firm, sweet kiss to your cloth covered cunt. The fabric is practically soaked through. He can smell your taste on the tips of his lips. His curiosity wins. He takes a firm, long lick from bottom to top. Simon tastes you, but also the flowery tang of your favorite fabric softener. You taste good. He wants more.
Simon finally releases his hold on your thighs. On instinct, or perhaps strain, they fall apart. You try to sit up but he tugs your body further towards the edge of the bed. He can feel the tension in his old knees from kneeling, but he ignores it. You've opened up your body to him. He wants to take full advantage of it.
Simon goes back to lapping at your clothed cunt. He doesn't stop until his tongue is raw from brushing repeatedly over the stitches. Drool drips down his chin.
"Off."
You huff in confusion, trying to sit up. Instead. With too easy of a tug, off come your panties. There you are. Simon knows he should slow his movements but he doesn't care. You haven't stopped him yet, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get those sweet lips in his mouth. He spreads you apart with his middle and forefinger. You're a sight to behold. Perhaps not pornstar perfect anatomy, but you're delicious looking nonetheless. He eyes your glistening, dripping slit. As bad as he wants to force his tomgue deep inside you, instead he presses a firm kiss to the hood of your clit. You jolt, trying to back away or pull him closer, he can't tell.
Simon follows your movement. He mouths hungrily at your clit, flattens his tongue and practically drools against it. He laps at you with a muted fervor. He doesn't want to hurt you. He can tell you're sensitive. It must've been awhile since the last time you'd had a man willingly do this for you. A damn shame.
Your shaky little moans are like music to Simon's ears. He follows them like a map. He circles your clit, traces the entrance of your hood, even dips lower to tease the sides of your inner lips. You seem to like that alot based on the sounds you make. He sucks on your inner wings and you squeal, thighs wrapping hard around the sides of his head. He does it again and and again until you're hiccuping in delight. Your slick drips down his chin and throat. You're such a good girl for him.
Simon knows he's going to make you cum, it's just a matter of time and technique. He has both on his side. He uses his other hand to pet at your entrance. He tries to commit your anatomy to memory, and so he takes his time dipping the pads of his fingers against your fluttering slit. Despite it obviously having been awhile, your cunt holds no resistance. In fact, it practically swallows up the tip of his middle finger. Fuck yeah, that's what he likes to see.
With measured ease, Simon slips his whole finger inwards and upwards inside of you. You keen and gasp and he can feel your insides twitching. You're tight. So tight he can feel his finger already starting to cramp up from the resistance.
If he's going to fuck you right he's still got some work to do.
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yanderenightmare · 3 months ago
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♡ TW: nsfw, dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced/accidental bonding, subjugation
♡ part one
♡ fem reader
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Once you wake up in the morning, you feel
 changed.
Your body feels full—as though you’d indulged too much last night—heavy and sticky and sore all over. There’s a strange taste in your mouth—sweet, somewhat salty, and metallic. Geez, you’re head’s pounding—how much did you drink last night? No, this feels different from a hangover—more full-bodied than that—a withdrawal of some kind or another. You must have done more at the party than drink, and yet, you can’t remember having stayed there all that long. No, you left with someone. That’s right. You went with
 that overgrown Omega.
Oh no.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!”
He comes in only wearing a pair of snug boxers—body stacked with brawn, not a single hint of Omega-like softness aside from his tousled bed hair. There’s a big toothy smile on his face—eyes are creased in cheer while carrying an overfull breakfast tray. You know you’re hungry, and yet you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but sick to your stomach by the horrid sight of his flaunted neck, decorated by a gory ring of your bitemark.
No. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck! “Tell me that’s not what I think it is
”
He laughs lightly with an awkward smile, apologetically scratching the back of his neck while balancing the tray in the other hand. “I’m afraid so
”
The world stops spinning, and for a moment, you think it might actually never start up again. Your throat snares, and you think you might throw up. How the fuck could this happen?
He sets the tray down next to you, then himself. The whole bed takes waves upon his weight. You remain still—eyes unrest and mouth hung.
“Hey, I know this might not be what we had planned, but
” he starts.
But you don’t let him finish before declaring, “I’ll take full responsibility.”
There’s nothing else to do, you think. The red string of fate has tied the two of you together. It’s sealed.
“There is no going back now.”
His face expresses shock, but if you’d taken a closer look, he’d probably not be able to hide it—the overwhelming sensation of victory. Oh, bless your Alpha pride. He knew you would say that.
He smiles softly. “I’m in your care then.”
It’s a work in progress after that—slow in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. You never pegged yourself to be the type who got caught up in the unmendable mistakes of a one-night stand, but then here you were—mated with a stranger, moving into his apartment because it’s bigger and closer to work, sharing the same bed and eating the same meals and helping each other through one another’s ruts and heats.
He's still no closer to being your type. In fact, he’s the total opposite—too giant to give you even a semblance worth of superiority over him. A couple of days ago, when he’d been searching for the remote in the couch you were lying on, he’d taken to pick you up instead of just asking you to move. It was completely humiliating. He’s so brazen, and it’s starting to become clear he’s doing it all on purpose!
He doesn’t get fussy when you state your claim of being the one on top—no, but what he does instead is somehow worse, going along with it with snide praise, grinning up at you, his big hands weighing heavy on your haunches as you roll them, calling you his good girl. It seems to humor him how it angers you—chuckling behind your hands as you layer them both atop his mouth, growling at him to “Shut up!”
No, he doesn’t mind letting you take charge. He rather enjoys the view of watching you ride—working so hard to appease him while he rests pretty and admires your body—all soft edges and plush curves. You tire quickly, though—poor thing, why don’t you leave the rest to him?
You had rejected it the first few times he’d offered. Your bruised pride simply wouldn’t have it—you’d rather you both stop than let him finish you off. But a couple more nights and you’d quicker come around than either of you expected—perhaps worn down by his constant nagging or simply fed up with your own failure—you let him assist by bouncing you on his lap.
You wouldn’t admit it to his face, never, but you’d enjoyed it far more than you could have ever thought

Thankfully, your face in and of its own glory told him all he needed to know. It didn’t take long before he’d taken full advantage of it, nor for you to begin allowing it without being asked. Soon you were letting him fuck you against the wall, making the entire room shake—wall creaking and shelves rattling, pictures falling down. You hold your tongue and hold on tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him—moaning sweetly right by his ear. Fuck, you even bite him again.
As time passed, you came around to indulging more and more of his antics. Letting him fuck you from behind—hard and heavy and deep—thrusting into you while grappling your waist. You even go down on all fours when he does it—digging your claws into the sheets.
Lying belly-up beneath him still makes you feel nervous—and slightly ashamed—almost convinced something’s wrong with you for liking it. And yet you can’t help it. You know any other Omega wouldn’t fuck you like this. They wouldn’t have the stamina, the drive, or the desire. Not like him, who does it all like it’s his nature even when it shouldn’t be.
Guess you’re both freaks.
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♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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obsesssedblerd · 5 months ago
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"Who's your new teacher?"
Synopsis: Toji meets Megumi's new preschool teacher and immediately develops a crush.
Pairings: single dad! toji x f! reader
Wc: 2.3K
Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, a tiny bit of angst, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft, mentions of shiu, shiu and toji work together, shiu being an idiot (lol sorry he'll get love in another fic) , everyone is happy bc I said so
a/n: omg, first fic, we made it! barely proofread, sorry for mistakes. also, tysm for 1,000 followers here! the other two fics that were on that poll will be coming soon!
update: pt 2 here
-------------
Toji’s Fushiguro’s muscles ache. The job he took was harder than he anticipated, and it took way longer than it was supposed to. After confirming that the payment from the job is in his account, he calls Shiu Kong so he could check in on the kids. “About damn time,” Shiu scoffs when the line connects. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t hear from you until sunrise.” 
“Job’s done,” Toji says as he gets into his car, settling into the drivers’ seat with an exhausted sigh. “I hear the TV in the background. Better be cartoons or something age-appropriate.” 
Shiu laughs. “Of course, what else? ‘M not getting cussed out by you. Anyway, you comin’ back with Megumi? Can’t believe you took him on the job with you. Once you’re back, I can get out of here.” 
Toji’s heart nearly stops. He sits up in his seat, gripping the phone so hard that the screen nearly cracks from his strength. “The fuck did you just say?” 
“Huh?” 
“Megumi isn’t with you?!” Toji’s voice booms in the car. On the other line, he hears Shiu gulp. “I
 I thought he was with you.” 
“You idiot! I asked you to pick him up from preschool around the same time you pick up Tsumiki from her school because I knew this would take a while!” 
“You did?!” Shiu asks, and then it goes quiet; him more than likely flipping through his messages to double check. “...Shit,” he breathes out. 
Toji inhales sharply, then exhales shakily in an attempt to calm the rage, and even the fear that pools in his gut. “If anything has happened to my fucking son, Kong, I will murder you and make your death look like an accident. Keep an eye on Tsumiki.” 
“Fushiguro, I swear, I-” Toji hangs up before Shiu can explain himself further, then he starts the car. 
He grips the steering wheel hard, and his breathing picks up as his mind spins with every horrific scenario possible. The preschool closes at six thirty. It was close to nine. He didn’t see any missed calls from them. On a normal day, he’d be done before work with plenty of time to pick up his four year-old son, but today’s job was far more difficult and required more time. 
The car speeds down the street leading to his destination. He’s half-expecting to see Megumi sitting outside with his backpack, clinging to his dog plushie and crying. Or worse, he’s not there at all; because this world is full of terrible people, and they won’t hesitate to steal a small, unsupervised boy. His heart aches at the thought, and he shoves it away before he feels the need to throw up. He’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. Everything is going to be fine. 
—
When Toji arrives at the preschool, he rushedly parks lopsidedly in the lot, then exits the car. His eyes scan the steps leading up to the front, and when he doesn’t see Megumi outside, he rushes to the door. 
He sees a security guard in a booth, and before Toji can even ask any questions, the guard gives him a small smile and nod, pressing a button that unlocks the door to the preschool with a click. Toji’s shoulders slump in relief. They were expecting him. That meant Megumi is still here and safe. 
Toji nods back at the guard in thanks, and rushes down the dimly-lit hallway. He sees a light coming from a classroom that still has its door open, and he slows his steps when he hears a child giggling. His child. 
Then it’s followed up by a beautiful, melodic laugh that makes him stop in his tracks. It’s a lovely sound; one that his heart skips to, and one that gently rings in his ears even plenty of seconds after it stops. 
Toji peeks into the classroom to see Megumi comfortably resting in a pillow fort, and you, kneeling beside a lamp and using your hands to make shadow puppets on the wall to entertain him. “Alright,” you say softly as you rearrange your hands and fingers. “What’s this one?” 
You smile as you watch Megumi hum thoughtfully, and Toji is transfixed by you. Who are you? Where did you come from? Since when did Megumi get a new teacher? Why is your smile so bright and so beautiful that the sun would envy? Why is his heart beating wildly in his chest at the sight of you? Fuck, why is he staring? 
“Ooh!” Megumi gasps as he figures out the animal you made with your hands. “Rabbit!” 
“Correct, great job!” You reach forward and give him a high-five. “I think you’ll really like this next one,” you say, and Megumi giggles again as he sits up, completely focused and ready to guess. “Ready?” You ask, and the boy nods. 
Toji crosses his arms, quietly leans against the door of the classroom, and watches, unaware of the soft smile that creeps onto his face. When you put your hands in front of the light, and the shape of the animal displays in front of Megumi, he squeals excitedly and stands up. “Doggy!” He shouts with a wide grin and pulls up his favorite dog plushie that he takes with him everywhere, imitating the sounds a dog would make. You break out into laughter, and Toji nearly stops breathing so he can fully take in the sound of it again.
Beautiful, he thinks. You’re so fucking beautiful. 
Megumi’s eyes flicker towards the door, and he gasps before running as fast as he can towards Toji. “Papa!” 
“Hey, Megs.” Toji kneels down, hugs the small boy against his chest before picking him up in his strong arms, sighing in relief as he runs a hand through his dark hair. He’s okay, and he doesn’t look too upset that he was here for this long. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Are you alright?” 
“Yeah!” Megumi pulls away, then gestures towards you, who watched the tender reunion with a sweet smile. “Ms. [Y/L/N] played so many fun games with me!” 
“Aw, I’m so happy you had fun, Megumi.” You take a step closer so you’re standing in front of Toji, slightly lifting your head upward to meet his eyes due to his height. “We tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Megumi said that it does that sometimes. He took a nap earlier, but I’m sure he’ll be sleepy soon after all of those games. I also gave him dinner earlier.” 
“That’s
 I just-” Toji struggles to find words, especially when you slightly tilt your head to the side and blink slowly. He exhales, then snaps himself out of his daze. “Thank you so much,” he says. “Are you new? I swear, I’m not usually this late.” Great. Megumi’s pretty teacher might think I’m just the worst parent on this damn planet. 
You nod. “Yes, I’m new. Today was my first day with this angel,” You use a finger to gently boop Megumi’s nose, and he smiles, shyly burying his face into Toji’s shoulder, “and the other kids. I figured you might’ve been held up at work or something. It’s okay. Things happen. Besides, he’s such a well-behaved kid. I didn’t mind spending this much time with him.” 
Toji places Megumi on the ground, then gently taps his shoulder. “Let’s grab your stuff, okay?” As he helps Megumi pack his backpack, Toji bites back a smile when he sees you watching him out of the corner of his eye. He notes the way you fiddle with your hands and avert your gaze after catching yourself. 
You walk over to your desk and open a drawer, pulling out three suckers from a sealed jar. Once Megumi had all of his things packed, you kneel before him, handing him the suckers one by one. “Here you go. One for you, one for your sister, and one for your dad. I can tell he works really, really hard.” 
Toji doesn’t hide his smile this time; it was impossible, especially when Megumi accepts them excitedly. “Candy! Thank you!” He hugs you gently, and you return it, rubbing your hand up and down his back. “You’re so welcome. Thanks for being so sweet today. You made my first day so fun.” 
A muffled gasp coming from outside has the three of you looking towards the window. Toji sees Tsumiki’s face squished against the glass with her usual, excited smile, and Shiu Kong standing beside her, looking relieved when he sees Megumi safe and sound. He purposely avoids Toji’s glare. 
The sound of Megumi’s small yawn gets his attention, and Toji’s gaze softens when the boy rubs his tired eyes. “Aw, ‘m sorry. It’s past your bedtime. Let’s get you home.” He leans down to pick him up again, and once you have your belongings, the two of you leave the building together. 
When you three make it outside, you face Toji and Megumi. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi,” you say quietly to him, who is slowly beginning to drift off. Then you look up at Toji, who is softly smiling at you. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, too, right?” You ask.
“Yeah, you will.” 
You wave goodbye, and Toji makes sure you get into your car safely. “Hey, Megs,” Toji gently shakes Megumi as he watches you drive out of the parking lot. “Do you know her name?” 
“Ms. [Y/L/N]” 
He chuckles. “No, kid, her first name.” 
“I dunno,” Megumi mumbles before closing his eyes and resting his cheek on Toji’s shoulder. “Sleepy, papa.” 
“Ah, there they are!” Shiu exclaims, and Toji would’ve thrown a punch if his son wasn’t in his arms, and if his seven year-old daughter wasn’t happily skipping towards him. “Hi, papa!” 
“Hi, sweets, how was school today?” 
“Good,” Tsumiki says, then grins mischievously as she points to the spot where your car was just a minute ago. “You like her!” She teases. “You wanna hug her and kiss her and give her chocolates!” 
“Alright, you.” Toji rolls his eyes and laughs softly as he uses his free arm to lift up a giggly Tsumiki, then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Both of you should be in bed. Let’s get home.” 
“Aw, okay.” Tsumiki then leans forward to gently kiss her sleeping baby brother’s cheek. “Night, Gumi.” 
Toji secures both Tsumiki and Megumi in his car, and then faces Shiu, who is smiling nervously. “Well, look at that. Megumi’s doing great and you even developed a crush. How cute. All’s well that ends well.” 
“Very cute, but guess what?” 
“What?” 
Toji finally throws a swift punch at Shiu’s jaw, greatly holding back his strength so it wouldn’t break. Shiu stumbles, then groans, cupping his face with his hands. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.” 
“Damn right,” Toji says as he opens the door to the driver’s seat. “See you later.” 
—
Toji almost never stresses about his appearance in the mornings. After all, it was just dropping off the kids. But this morning, he frets over which shirt would look better with the jeans he picked out, if he should wear a different type of cologne, or if he should slick his hair back. 
All because he’s seeing you again. 
He decides to skip the new cologne and go for his usual, simple one, dresses in a dark shirt to match the jeans, and also ditches the idea of slicking his hair. Once the kids are ready for the day, he leaves early and goes to a coffee shop to pick up a medium cup of coffee. First, he drops Tsumiki off at school, then he takes Megumi to preschool. 
Toji spots you almost immediately. You were out in the front amongst the other preschool teachers, parents and their kids, wearing a gorgeous yellow top and simple blue jeans. When you see Toji and Megumi approaching, you pause your conversation with your coworker and walk over to them. Toji decides that he likes that, and that he loves the way you kneel in front of Megumi to meet his eye level, telling him good morning and asking if he was excited for the day. 
You raise to your feet, Toji hands you the cup of coffee he purchased earlier. “For you,” he says, “As a thank you for everything yesterday.” 
“Aw.” Your eyes light up as you accept the cup. “Mr. Fushiguro, this—” 
“Toji,” he corrects softly, and he ignores the way his heart stutters when your smile grows. 
“Well, Toji, this is lovely. Thank you so much.” 
“I never caught your name last night.” 
You tell him your name, and Toji tests it once. From the way you shyly avert your gaze, he can tell you that like the way it sounds in his voice. Megumi clears his throat, and Toji looks down to see him staring up at him, his brow raised in suspicion. “You never stay this long. Don’t you have to go to work?” 
Damn, kid. Thought we were on the same team. 
You laugh as Toji rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at Megumi—a gesture that the four year-old returns immediately. “Well, he’s right, gotta get going,” Toji says, looking back up at you. “I’ll see you later?” 
“Yes.” You nod, then point to the warm cup in your hands. “Thanks again for the coffee. Have a great day at work.” 
“You too.” Toji then gently ruffles Megumi’s hair. “Be good.” 
He doesn’t realize how big he’s smiling until he’s back in the car, and he sighs as he remembers Shiu’s words from the night before. A crush. That word seems so silly. He’s not a teen in high school. Toji looks up just in time to watch you take Megumi’s hand and lead him inside the building with the other children, and he chuckles to himself as he starts the car up.
Maybe “silly” was okay when you’re this pretty.
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luveline · 2 months ago
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hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood đŸ€­ just some warm domestic love hehe
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 
Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you
” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 
You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 
What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 
James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 
“Love, for sure.” 
“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 
“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”
James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 
Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 
“Siri
” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 
Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 
“She did it to me, too.” 
Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 
“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 
“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 
The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 
James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 
“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 
“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 
“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 
“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 
“We can go back.” 
“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 
Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 
“I love you,” you say. 
Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 
“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 
“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 
“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 
Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 
Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 
You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 
“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 
“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 
Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 
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