#this is me trying really really hard to find something to grasp onto in him

[alstroemerian-dragon]

thinking about the several month period where the survivors (plus the two who are already awake) work to 1) wake up mahiru 2) support her through healing and then 3) wake up peko

and how utterly Miserable that period of time has to be for fuyuhiko

(more under the cut because its another long one babey)

like. okay. heres a couple of disclaimers: this is a repeat, but i have not watched the anime. so if the character dynamics from it are your canon, just know i may not follow that. second, i… dont really think about mahiru that much. shes not really that much of a character to me, given what were given in canon, and the Casual Man Hating Mom Friend Lesbian (and i know she canonically has a crush on hajime so shes definitely bi or pan dont yell at me) trope just does nothing for me im sorry HOWEVER. in contrast to fuyuhiko, and in terms of what, in my brain, she does during the tragedy (which will probably WILDLY contradict literally everyone else’s opinions), there IS something in… her* arc post sim (that * will come back) that DOES interest me. bear with me

fuyuhikos ingrained belief system revolves almost entirely around the phrase ‘There is always a bigger fish.’ there is always going to be someone stronger, bigger, and more dangerous than you, so you have to work to be the strongest, biggest, and most dangerous you can in order to stay alive. along with that, he’s had very strangled views of what it means to be a Man shoved down his throat by most likely his father, so to him, being a man means being Big and Strong and Dangerous. but at the same time… he knows thats all bullshit. hes had other influences in his life, peko, his sister and, in my mind, his mother and other strong women high up in his clan, that have shown him the falsehoods of a lot of those claims. at the same time, he also knows, in the back of his head, that he physically can not meet those expectations for being a man. but… he is one. i think hes Solid in that. so it ends up all conglomerating and fighting in his head in a very confusing mess, which honestly has to be exhausting.

mahiru, by contrast, seems to have this very odd two-part system of beliefs, where being a man means being Confident and Strong and Protective, but at the same time, men are fundamentally Lazy and Stupid and Uncaring. women need to be protected by men, but also men are unnecessary. its… yeah its honestly familiar lmao. and some of this is the writers’ beliefs seeping in and some of it is bad writing but at the end of the day its what weve got.

so, to me, it really feels like the two of them would have absolutely hated each others guts during school. fuyuhiko is neither Big and Strong and Caring, nor is he Lazy and Stupid and Uncaring. he cares a lot, but not openly, or in a way that mahiru would easily recognize. hes an enigma in her eyes. and to fuyuhiko, mahiru is stuck in a frame of mind hes been fighting since he was a child, and as much as he’d try to be sympathetic, his anger has a tendency to get the better of him.

so… sato’s death would only have made this situation worse.

i dont think any of them knew he was responsible for her death. i dont think fuyuhiko told ANYONE aside from peko, especially since this would have been in their second year, after junko had begun sinking her talons into the entire class. how could he trust any of them? and he has to have known about her connection to mahiru, its the only way he could have found out she was involved in natsumi’s death. he kept it from her in particular, knowing she wouldn’t understand, knowing she would blame him, knowing it would just make things worse.

she probably doesnt realize the full extent of everything until… until after she wakes up.

im not gonna go too much into them as despairs, but lets just say that fuyuhiko… is responsible for a lot of bad things, even ones that happened to his fellow limbs. mahiru also did a lot of shit, but hiko i think is one of the only ones who hurt his so-called allies. and her cheery, fake, influencer-like attitude absolutely grated on him like crazy, resulting in a lot of screaming matches and even physical altercations.

so, when mahiru wakes up, her opinion of fuyuhiko is the lowest it could possibly be. hes an enigma, a stick in the gears, a man who hasnt yet shown his true colors and yet is also a violent, cruel dictator, fulfilling every expectation she has for the kind of man she expects the Ultimate Yakuza to be.

except he isnt. because by the time she wakes up, its been over a year and a half since the program shut down, and fuyuhiko is a very, very different person. and he doesnt have a low opinion of her at all. hes incredibly sympathetic to her situation, understands how much pain shes probably in, understands theres definitely a lot more under her surface beliefs that he doesnt see or know yet. thinks it was incredibly brave of her to stand up to him despite knowing he could be violent and dangerous.

and as the days go by, she sees that. sees him interacting with the others, sees him laugh at one of hajimes stupid jokes, sees him smile and roll his eyes at kazuichi’s physical affection, sees him lean on his cane when his leg flares up, sees him rubbing at the scars around his eye when they ache. sees how much respect he treats her with, how much space he gives her while not avoiding confrontations, because hes done running. hes been running for far too long, and hes done with it.

i think it takes a long time. weeks, maybe. months, possibly. but i think it starts to weigh on her mind, that she cant keep treating him like a criminal. like a weapon. cant keep ignoring his humanity in favor of the label of Violent Man that sits in her brain. and, additionally, interacting with the others, with hajime, with sonia, with kazuichi and sagishi. she starts to realize how utterly stupid the rigid gender structures that exist in her heard really are.

basically what im saying is i think mahiru is a he/him butch bi woman because i love to hit characters with the Cool Ass Gender ray. this is where that * comes back by the way thats why thats there because mahirus not a girl but also he is a girl but also hes not. hope this helps <3 also he and fuyuhiko are Worsties. they should eventually get to a point where they can both make jokes about the fact that fuyuhiko tried to kill him and can also have serious conversations about the sato and natsumi shit without devolving into unproductive arguing.

AND THEN PEKO WAKES UP FUCK THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT—

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

- sylus x reader

you and your lover are hailed and feared, but who would have guessed that behind closed doors, both of you are just that — lovers?

genre/warnings: very suggestive, making out, fluff, comfort, period cramps, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), loosely based on sylus' secret times: midnight warmth & exclusive care!

note: very self-indulgent bye pls don't look at me :') this fic is a companion to assassin!reader series (strictly (un)professional and jealousy incarnate)

“Who’s ther— lord! Missus! What happened to you!?”

On a rainy night, you staggered into the base, drenched and covered with dirt. Your steps were unsteady as you made your way through the front door, and the first person to see you, Luke, was so shocked by the sight that he rushed to your side.

“Kieran! Call Boss!” he shouted to his twin, who immediately sprinted off to find him, steadying you. “Are you injured?”

“No,” you hissed, wincing as you clutched your abdomen. “Let go, I’m fine—” But before you could finish, you missed a step and—

—fell into Luke's arms.

In that very instant, Luke genuinely feared for his life. He squeaked and stammered, incoherent sounds escaping him, because oh lord— if Boss sees me ever touching his woman—

“What are you doing?”

And there came his nightmare. Sylus’ deep voice cut through like a blade, marking the arrival of doomsday itself.

“B-Boss! It isn’t what it looks like!” Luke quivered, desperately trying to explain himself.

However, Sylus paid him no mind and exhaled sharply, immediately moving over to pull you out of Luke’s grasp. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, pulling away from him while staggering. “I’m not wounded or anything. Just... I just need a bath, please.”

Sylus eyed you from top to bottom. You had just been out for a reconnaissance, and yet you looked as though you had been through a tornado and back. Disheveled, your dress was smeared with mud and dirt, and even grime clung to your hair.

“Did you fall into a sewer or something?” he questioned, and he knew he had hit a nerve when you shot him a glare.

But you spared him no answer, walking away with labored breaths and a hand pressed against your lower belly. It was clear you were in pain, and the sight tugged at him as he followed you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his concern growing. “What hurts?”

“You don’t have to fuss over me—” your breath hitched, feeling exhausted, and ashamed all at once. “Just my period, nothing much,” you murmured in a quieter voice so the twins wouldn’t hear.

As you reached the stairs to the second floor, you felt like collapsing. Did you really have to climb these stairs, too?

As if reading your mind, Sylus let out a sigh, but you nearly squealed when he lifted you into his arms.

“You’ll get dirty!” you rebuked, even as he took large strides up the stairs. “Sylus!”

“Just hold onto me.” He shot you a pointed look. “You can’t even walk without gasping for air, and you still want to climb the stairs? You’ll end up rolling and breaking your back.”

Despite your protests, your lover immediately brought you to his bathroom and sat you down on the sink. He turned the hot water on and then faced you.

“So? What did you get yourself into?” he asked, his red eyes narrowing in dissatisfaction. “You were fine, and you didn’t face anyone.”

You pressed your eyes shut, leaning against the wall, resigned to explain. “Fell into mud. Totally idiotic, I know, but my cramps started right before, so…”

“I don’t recall you experiencing this before. What brought this on?”

You met his gaze indignantly, retorting, “Well, a certain someone banged me so hard last night, and I got my period right after.”

It was quite unexpected, but still answered his concern. So, to that, Sylus snorted and tousled your hair, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Ah, sorry, I guess?”

You pursed your lips, aware of how unapologetic he was. He smirked and added, “Now that I’m dirty too... I suppose we’ll have to take a bath together.”

“Are you mad? Do you want to get covered in my blood?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why not—”

“No,” you retorted firmly, clearly irked. “You take the bath after me, and that’s final.”

. . .

“Put your arm around my neck,” Sylus commanded when you both emerged from the bath and already dressed in silk bathrobes. You complied, and he swiftly lifted you into a princess carry, bringing you to the bed.

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at his action. He set you down gently, and the moment your back met the soft surface, you relished it and let out an involuntary moan. “Ahh...”

Your voice was soft and sultry, though tinged with a hint of pain. Sylus placed his hand gently on your face. “Your cheeks are warm,” he noted. “And you still look pale.”

"Mmm," you mumbled, suddenly the total fatigue catching up to you as you leaned into his touch. Seeing you so pliant like this seemed to flip a switch inside him, and he immediately settled next to you and placed his huge hand on your lower belly, pressing down on it.

“What are you doing?” you frowned.

“I’m giving you a massage,” he replied. “Stop squirming. I’m trying to pamper you here.”

“You don’t have to…”

“My woman is in enough pain that she doesn’t talk back to me. It’s feels off.”

“...actually, you suck. You’re too rough.”

Taking your whine into account, he adjusted his touch, softening his pressure. "How is it? Better?"

You didn’t immediately reply, indulging in the warm sensation, letting out a sigh as you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mm... Yeah, it feels good now. Don’t stop…”

There was something quietly erotic about watching you, usually so defiant, surrender to his touch like this. Sylus felt a deep, protective satisfaction as he continued his gentle ministrations—

But after a while...

Before he could stop himself, he leaned in, pulling you closer as he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of the bath foam you had just shared. “Mmm…”

You were caught off-guard and shivered at his breath tickling your skin, eyes fluttering open. “Sylus…” you murmured, a mix of protest and surprise in your voice.

But he didn’t pull away, his lips lingering against your skin, his gaze fixed on your bare neck, whispering, “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

Then, when he suddenly nibbled on your neck, you jolted awake. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race.

But he didn't stop there, as Sylus trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin. Soon, the only sounds filling the room were his quiet sighs and the soft noises of his lips as he continued to bite and pepper kisses on your skin, over and over.

“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.

“Hold me,” he gruffly whispered, and as if bewitched, you clung to his shoulders. He let out a husky chuckle. “Not too hard, or you won't be able to sleep later.”

“And whose fault would that be?” you quipped, entangling your legs with his, savoring the warmth of his body against yours.

“I’ve spoiled you rotten, haven’t I... sweetie?” he murmured amidst kisses, his tone laced with intrigue and his burgundy eyes flashing with a glint. “Just let me have my fill for a while.”

If you had a mirror, you’d see the hickeys forming on your neck, but instead of fighting him, you pulled him closer, letting out breathy moans freely and massaging his scalp as if urging him to go further.

“Naughty vixen—you are,” Sylus rasped deliciously in your ear, thick with desire and restraint as his grip on you tightened. “Tempting me, knowing full well I can’t do anything to you…”

A low giggle slipped from your lips. “Unfortunately… I learn from the best.”

Hard to get, snarky, taunting... You were the bane of his existence, and yet Sylus wouldn't have it another way. Your defiance and teasing only deepened his affection, making every challenge you presented feel like an irresistible part of what drew him to you.

He knew when his patience was on the verge of snapping, so to end it, he sucked hard on your shoulder one last time, making sure to leave another mark there. The squelching sound reverberated through both of you, before he pulled away and planted a firm kiss on your forehead, a gesture of both dominance and fondness for you.

“Now sleep,” he grounded out. “Your body has been through enough.”

“Mngh...” you whined, curling into him in contentment, your head nestled against his toned chest where you could feel his strong, steady heartbeat. “Really unfair...”

“You're going to feel better soon...” he sighed, one hand soothing your back and the other resting on your waist. “And as soon as you do...”

A wicked grin curved his lips.

“I'll pick up where I left off.”

[augustinewrites]

yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.

last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice. 

casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.

this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.

you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak. 

“did we really–” 

“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”

when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”

“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.” 

“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him. 

“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.” 

you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan. 

people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt. 

“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.” 

he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”

“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again. 

“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.” 

it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.  

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.” 

but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”

he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.

 “i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”

you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer. 

he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you. 

so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.

after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)

a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips. 

then, shoko knocks on your door. 

“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.” 

“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.” 

“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”

“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet. 

he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”

you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.

“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.

“did you bring someone home last night?”

“no.”

she looks at you. really looks at you, you think. 

“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”

“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”

shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…

…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.” 

wait–

“gojo?”

you hear a sharp inhale through the door. 

“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”

gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.” 

“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”

she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you. 

you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.

dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.

[aceyalonso]

mark me yours - OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing : oscar piastri x gf!reader

summary : biting has weirdly always been a part of y/n's love language, what happens when she bites oscar where he's a little bit more than just sensitive?

warnings/notes : swearing, smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), sub!oscar, creampie, biting, marking kink, hickies, oral (m!receiving), edging, handjob, praise kink,degrading kink, name calling, begging, humiliation kink, cum play, multiple orgasms, slight dacryphilia, use of "good boy"

word count : 3.0k

a/n : i have a thing for submissive men i fear (this is so self indulgent)

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Y/n and Oscar were playfighting on the living room floor, laughing and giggling as they tumbled around. Suddenly, Y/n leaned in and planted a small, innocent bite on Oscar's neck. However, she had unknowingly found a sensitive spot, causing him to let out a sharp gasp.

Startled by his reaction, Y/n pulled back, her eyes wide with concern. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

Oscar, still reeling from the unexpected sensation, couldn't help but let out a soft moan. "Yeah, I'm fine," he managed to say, his voice slightly strained. "It just felt really intense for a moment there."

Y/n bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Really? Well, maybe we should explore that a little more," she suggested, leaning in once again.

She grinned, enjoying the effect she was having on Oscar. She continued to suck and nibble on his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive spot with each bite. Oscar's breathing grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a whimper as she bit down harder.

"Jesus fuck, are you a vampire or something?" he gasped, trying to mask the pleasure he was feeling. His body trembled slightly, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.

Y/n chuckled, her hot breath tickling his skin. "Maybe I am," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Or maybe you're just sensitive."

She continued her assault on his neck, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites. Each time she found that sensitive spot, Oscar couldn't help but moan, his body responding to her touch in ways he hadn't expected.

Y/n's fingers deftly worked at the hem of Oscar's hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. She tossed it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. Her eyes roamed over his body, taking in every inch of exposed skin.

"Mmm, look at you," she purred, her hands trailing down his chest. "So strong and sexy."

Oscar shivered at her touch, his muscles tensing as her fingers explored his body. He couldn't believe how turned on he was getting from something so simple.

Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "I wonder what other sensitive spots I can find on you," she whispered, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

Her hands continued their exploration, moving lower and lower until they reached the waistband of his jeans. With a swift motion, she unbuttoned them and slid her hand inside, palming his growing erection through his boxers.

Y/n guided Oscar to the couch, her hands firmly grasping his hips. Once he was seated, she knelt down in front of him, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers. Slowly, she pulled them down, revealing his hard, throbbing member.

"Oh, looks like someone's excited," she teased, her eyes locked onto his manhood. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, giving it a few gentle strokes.

Oscar let out a low groan, his head falling back against the couch cushions. He couldn't believe how good her touch felt, and he was already aching for more.

Y/n leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. She swirled her tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum that had gathered there. Then, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft as she began to bob her head up and down.

Oscar's moans and whines grew louder as Y/n's skilled mouth worked on his throbbing member. She pulled away for a moment, leaving him panting and desperate for more.

"Look at you, so needy and desperate," she taunted, her hand continuing to stroke his shaft. "You're like a bitch in heat, aren't you?"

Oscar couldn't even form a coherent response, his mind clouded with lust and desire. He could only nod and whimper, his hips bucking into her hand as she continued to tease him.

Y/n smirked, enjoying the power she held over him. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Beg for me to take you back into my mouth."

Oscar's heart raced at her words, his body trembling with anticipation. "Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need you. I need your mouth on me."

Y/n's hand slowed to a torturous pace, her fingers barely grazing Oscar's sensitive skin. She could feel him squirming beneath her touch, his desperation growing with each passing second.

"Please, Y/n," he begged, his voice cracking with need. "I can't take it anymore. I need you so badly."

She chuckled, her breath hot against his skin. "What was that? I didn't quite catch that."

Oscar's hips bucked upwards, seeking more friction. "Please, I'm begging you. Take me into your mouth again. I need to feel your lips around me. I'll do anything, just please don't stop."

Y/n's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at his desperate pleas. She loved seeing him so worked up, so completely at her mercy. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to tease the tip of his cock.

"Since you asked so nicely," she purred, before taking him back into her mouth, her lips sealing around his shaft as she began to bob her head once more.

As Y/n's lips and tongue worked their magic, Oscar couldn't hold back the loud, slutty moans that escaped his lips. The sound of his own voice, so desperate and needy, only served to heighten his arousal.

Y/n smiled against his cock, feeling it twitch in response to his moans. She planted soft kisses along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, her lips trailing up and down its length.

Oscar covered his face with his hands, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through his body. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he got closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Y/n," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna cum. Oh god, you're gonna make me cum."

Y/n picked up the pace, her mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him to the brink. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, his body tensing as he prepared for his release.

Oscar's whines and moans grew louder and more desperate as Y/n's mouth and hand worked tirelessly on his throbbing cock. His body trembled with each stroke of her tongue, his hips bucking upwards as he sought more friction.

"Oh god, Y/n," he panted, his voice hoarse with pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close, I can feel it."

Y/n could sense his impending orgasm, and she doubled her efforts, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him over the edge. She could feel his cock pulsing against her tongue, his body tensing as he neared his climax.

As Oscar's orgasm hit, Y/n felt his cock pulse and twitch in her mouth. She continued to suck and stroke him through his climax, her cheeks hollowing as she worked to milk every last drop of his cum.

When he finally finished, she pulled back, his spent member slipping from her lips. She held his gaze as she opened her mouth, revealing the thick, creamy load she had collected.

Slowly, she straddled his thighs, leaning in to press her lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss. As their tongues met, she allowed some of his cum to transfer into his mouth, forcing him to taste himself.

Oscar moaned into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip her hips. He could taste his own essence on her tongue, the flavor both strange and arousing. He knew he should feel embarrassed, but all he could focus on was the intense pleasure coursing through his veins.

As their tongues continued to dance, Oscar's hands shook as he gripped Y/n's waist. He could feel the heat of her body pressing against his, and he craved more.

"Take your clothes off," he whispered against her lips, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you, all of you."

Y/n smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She sat back, slowly peeling off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts, clad in a lacy black bra. Oscar's eyes widened, his mouth watering at the sight.

She unhooked her bra, letting it fall away to expose her bare chest. Her nipples were hard and erect, begging for attention. Oscar reached up, his fingers grazing her sensitive peaks, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips.

Y/n then stood up, shimmying out of her jeans and panties in one fluid motion. She kicked them aside, leaving her completely naked before him. Oscar drank in the sight of her, his cock already beginning to stir once more.

Y/n straddled Oscar's thighs once more, her naked body pressing against his. She captured his lips in a searing kiss, her hands roaming over his chest and abs.

"You're such a good boy," she purred between kisses, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "So obedient and eager to please."

She nipped at his bottom lip, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. "But you're also such a dirty slut, aren't you? Begging for my touch, craving my attention like a desperate whore."

Oscar moaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upwards to meet her. He couldn't deny the truth in her words; he was completely under her spell, willing to do anything for her touch.

Y/n's hand trailed down his stomach, her fingers wrapping around his hardening cock. She stroked him slowly, teasingly, her thumb swirling around the tip.

Y/n's hand moved in slow, torturous strokes along Oscar's shaft, her grip firm but not too tight. She could feel him throbbing in her palm, his body trembling with each movement of her hand.

"Shh, it's okay," she cooed, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're doing so well, being such a good boy for me."

Oscar whimpered, his hips bucking upwards in search of more friction. He wanted to beg her for more, to plead with her to let him cum, but he knew better than to disobey her.

"If you're patient and keep being a good boy," she promised, her voice low and seductive, "I'll let you cum soon. Just keep trusting me, and I'll give you everything you need."

She continued her slow, agonizing handjob, her thumb teasing the sensitive head of his cock. Oscar's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving with each labored breath. He could feel the pressure building inside him, his orgasm hovering just out of reach.

Y/n's hand remained steady, maintaining the slow, torturous pace that was driving Oscar wild with need. As she watched him squirm beneath her touch, she noticed the tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

"Aww, look at you," she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Are those tears I see? Good boys don't cry, you know."

Oscar bit his lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. He knew she was right, and he didn't want to disappoint her. But the pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming, that he could barely think straight.

"That's it, be a good boy," she encouraged, her hand never faltering in its rhythm. "Keep fighting those tears, and I might just reward you for your efforts."

Oscar nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on controlling his emotions. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure inside him reaching a fever pitch. He just needed to hold on a little longer, to prove to her that he was worthy of her praise.

As Oscar's moans grew louder and more desperate, Y/n could sense his impending orgasm. She increased the speed of her strokes, her hand flying over his shaft in a blur of motion.

Just as he was about to reach his peak, she abruptly released his cock, her hand pulling away entirely. Oscar's eyes snapped open, his mouth falling agape in shock and disbelief.

"No!" he cried out, his voice cracking with desperation. "No, please don't stop. I was so close, please..."

He reached for her hand, trying to guide it back to his aching member, but she swatted his hand away. She smirked down at him, her eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.

Y/n's eyes locked with Oscar's as she grasped his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Slowly, teasingly, she lowered herself onto him, her wet heat enveloping his throbbing member inch by delicious inch.

Oscar gasped at the sensation, his hands flying to her hips as he fought the urge to thrust upwards. She felt incredible, her walls hugging his cock like a velvet glove.

Once she was fully seated, Y/n paused, savoring the feeling of being so perfectly filled. She rolled her hips, grinding against him in a slow, sensual rhythm.

"Mmm, you feel so good inside me," she purred, her nails digging into his chest. "I could stay like this forever, just feeling you stretch me open."

Oscar moaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. He couldn't believe the torture she was putting him through, the way she was teasing him with her body. He wanted to pound into her, to claim her as his own, but he knew better than to disobey her commands.

Y/n began to ride him in earnest, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She leaned forward, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck as she left a trail of bites and hickies in her wake.

Oscar groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushions as he surrendered to the pleasure. Each bite sent a jolt of electricity through his body, heightening his senses and making every thrust feel even more intense.

Y/n's nails raked down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, could sense his impending release. But she wasn't ready for it to end yet.

With a wicked grin, she climbed off of him, leaving him empty and aching. She turned around, presenting her ass to him as she bent over the arm of the couch.

"Come and get it," she challenged, looking back at him over her shoulder. "Show me how much you want me."

Oscar's eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight before him. Y/n's perfect ass was on display, her pussy glistening with their combined juices. Without hesitation, he moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance.

With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside her once more, groaning at the exquisite feeling of her tight heat enveloping him. He set a brutal pace, pounding into her with abandon as he chased his release.

Y/n cried out, her fingers gripping the couch cushions tightly as she pushed back against him. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with their moans and grunts of pleasure.

"Yes, just like that," she panted, her voice strained with ecstasy. "Fuck me harder, make me yours."

Oscar obliged, his hips snapping forward with each powerful thrust. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he neared the edge. But he held back, determined to make her cum first.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more urgent as Oscar continued to pound into her. She could feel her own orgasm approaching, her body tensing as the waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Please, let me cum inside you," Oscar begged, his voice raw with desperation. "I've been such a good boy, I promise. I just need to feel you, all of you."

Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy. She could feel Oscar's cock throbbing inside her, his movements becoming more erratic as he struggled to hold back his own release.

"Cum with me," she demanded, her voice a husky whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside of me."

As their orgasms crashed over them, Oscar sank his teeth into Y/n's neck, muffling his own moans of pleasure. The sensation of his teeth breaking her skin sent a fresh wave of ecstasy through her body, and she cried out in response.

Their bodies convulsed in unison, their fluids mixing as they rode out the intense waves of their shared climax. Oscar's hips continued to thrust, drawing out their pleasure for as long as possible.

Finally, they collapsed together on the couch, their bodies entwined and slick with sweat. Oscar's teeth released her neck, and he nuzzled into her hair, his breathing ragged and uneven.

As the aftershocks of their intense orgasms subsided, Oscar began to mutter words of gratitude and appreciation. His voice was hoarse and raw, filled with emotion.

"Holy shit, that was incredible," he breathed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Y/n's skin. "Thank you so much, you're amazing."

Y/n smiled, turning her head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're welcome," she murmured against his mouth. "And you did so well, being such a good boy for me."

She pulled away from the kiss, a playful smirk on her face. "Why did you bite me?" she asked, her fingers gently probing the spot where his teeth had broken her skin.

Oscar looked sheepish, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself," he confessed. "It was like my body took control, and I needed to do something to keep from screaming."

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, if you're going to point out the bite on your neck, you should probably take a look at mine," he teased, tilting his head to the side.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the sight of his neck, covered in a patchwork of bites and hickies. Some were still red and angry, while others had begun to bruise.

"Wow, I really went to town on you, didn't I?" she laughed, her fingers tracing the marks on his skin. "You're lucky you're so cute, or else you'd have some explaining to do."

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

[moonstruckme]

OMGGGGGGG

the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭

can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on

Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest. 

A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more. 

He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak. 

“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost. 

Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees. 

“Morning,” you say, softer than soft. 

“How’d you sleep, lovely?” 

You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?” 

James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?” 

Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?

“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.” 

James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.” 

He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside. 

“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?” 

“This is good.” 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?” 

Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.” 

“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” 

You look like you stop breathing. 

And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things. 

He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his. 

It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice. 

“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.” 

“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.” 

James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room. 

You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. 

“So, have any fun dreams last night?”  

You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response. 

“A couple,” you admit. 

“Oh? What about?” 

Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake. 

James’ brain short-circuits. 

“You were in my dream,” he blurts. 

Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.” 

You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?” 

“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.” 

James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze. 

“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?” 

You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim. 

You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home. 

“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.” 

“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.” 

You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes are wide. “Again?” 

“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.” 

You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.” 

He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue. 

“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?” 

Your voice is breathless. “Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.” 

You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.” 

James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.

[zombieewrites]

logan when you don't shave

logan howlett x reader

summary: you've been together for months, but how will he react when you forget to shave?

warnings: no smut but still nsfw

word count: 958

His touches make it feel like electricity is coursing through your whole body. Logan’s is simultaneously rough and delicate, his actions contradicting themself and leaving you all worked up.

You and Logan were supposed to be watching a movie tonight but he just can’t control himself around you. You were trying really really hard to focus on the movie but he made this an impossible task. The way he was rubbing tender circles on your thighs, inching further and further to your heat every once in a while, was driving you insane. His strong hands hold you in such a delicate grasp that fills your whole body up with a familiar warmth.

As the movie continued you could tell that Logan’s focus was tuned more onto you than the screen. The touches are slowly getting more impatient. Logan has your body memorized, cherishing every crevice and dip of your body.

The TV lights flicker in the dark, illuminating your features. Your eyebrows are ever so slightly scrunched as you pretend to pay attention to the movie. Logan stares at you with amazement, he will forever be in awe of your beauty. He inches towards you and wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer. At this point Logan isn't even trying to hide the fact that he's not watching the movie anymore. Then you feel soft pecking on your neck and jaw, causing your breath to hitch. No one needs superhuman abilities to hear how fast your heart is beating.

“Do y’know how pretty you are, sweetheart?” Logan whispers to you.

You turn your head to respond to him, but the second that you open your mouth, his lips are attached to yours. Heavy hands wrap around your whole body, holding you tight. The kiss is passionate yet tender. Logan’s actions are a reflection of how badly he needs you.

Warmth radiates through your whole body. Without thinking your thighs rub together, attempting to give you any form of satisfaction. Noticing this, Logan places his hand behind your head as he guides you to lay down on the couch. Never breaking the kiss. His big hands continue to explore your body with a sense of hunger. The kisses quickly go from tender to rough. You place your hands behind his neck and wrap your legs around him. Logan groans into your mouth at the feeling of your warm body on his. Your panties get damp at that sound alone. And just like that he grinds down on you, both of your clothed centers rubbing on each other. Logan knows how to leave you feeling worked up. As the feeling of pleasure is taking over you, you whimper out his name with a soft sigh.

“Mmm you sound so pretty,” Logan says with a needy tone. “Need you s’ bad.”

A tug on your pants lets you know how eager he is. This feeling of your pants beginning to come off makes you jolt in embarrassment. After remembering that you didn't shave, your whole body is filled with nerves. Breaking the kiss, Logan instantly senses your body’s reaction. He looks down at you with a concerned gaze as he rubs comforting circles on your arm.

“Something wrong, darlin’?” He asks you. “Y’know you can always tell me if something is bothering you?”

Some men hate when you don't shave and some men say they don't mind it, when in reality they do. Its only been a few months with him but to avoid any issues you always shaved. Your fear of Logan’s reaction electrified your senses.

“It's just…I didn't really have the time..” You avoid eye contact in embarrassment before you responded. “I’ve just been pretty busy lately and I forgot to properly clean up…”

You look back at Logan only to find a confused look written all over his face. A horn must've grew out the middle of your forehead the way he was staring at you.

“I just haven't shaved and so maybe we should do this another time y’know?” You answer.

Just like that his confusion is wiped away and replaced with small laughter. Oh God. This is pure humility. You just confessed that and he was giggling? Just simply laughing at you? You instantly regret even telling him that much.

“Sweetheart,” Logan says with a chuckle, “I've been alive for over 200 years and you really think I can't handle a little bit of hair?”

Your eyes are drawn back to him as you listen.

“I don't know about any of those boys you've been with but I'm a man. I could give less of a fuck how you choose to present yourself to me, as long as it's you I'm fine.” He assures you, “In all honesty, if someone is giving that much of theirself to me, and I stop to worry about some hair, then I’ve gotta have some issues, angel.”

As simple as that, all humility leaves your body instantly. His words are genuine and comforting. Making you feel desired comes easy to Logan.

With a low tone he asks you, “You hear me? I want you no matter what. I will never let anything as miniscule as hair stop me from loving you. You got that?”

You cup his face in your hands as you stare up at him. The love he has for you makes your entire body tingle. His rough mutton chops rub between your fingers as you admire him. With a small nod you respond to him.

“Mmmkay” is all you can manage to get out under his gaze.

Logan grins as he hovers over you while placing sweet kisses on your collarbone, “Lemme just show you how much all that doesn't matter to me, sweet thing.”

[animasola86]

👻 A KNIFE TO REMEMBER

ghostface x f!reader 🔥 very explicit 🔥 words: 3.8k

As you try to find your way through the mysterious house, someone finds you first...

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Masks/costumes! Knife kink/knife play! Fingering! Anonymous sex! Creampies! (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is part 2 of my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE smut series! 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7 This is OPTION 1/PART 2 - but can be read individually, let me just set the scene:

CONTEXT: You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and on your search for the bathroom, you come to a long hallway full of doors, and you decide to reach for the door closest to you.

Just when you reach for the door knob, you feel someone coming up from behind, and before you know it, a pair of hands blocks your vision. You gasp in shock, but a low voice vibrates in your ear as you're being pulled against a firm body.

“Shh, no need to panic,” the male voice drones, making you stiffen in his hold. It sounds a little muffled. “I won't hurt you. Unless you're into it...”

You reach up and grab onto his wrists, squirming against him. “Let me go,” you plead, but he only shushes you.

“Ah, come on, little Red. You're here for an adventure, aren't you?”

His hand moves to your mouth now, and you blink into the dimly lit hallway. He holds your face tightly, making it impossible to turn your head and look at whoever has you in his grasp, but you can still see that he's wearing a black costume, something like a robe. No gloves, though, just big veiny hands. Strong, and very adventurous.

With one still on your mouth, muffling the noises of protest, his other hand roams along your body, rubs up and down your side, gropes at your breast, grips your throat and gives it a light squeeze, before moving back down, teasing under the hem of your skirt. You must be in shock, because you can't find the courage or willpower to fight whatever is happening. This guy is clearly taking advantage of your confusion, and without another word, he pushes you forward, opens another door and guides you into the dark room beyond it.

You stumble, and when he finally lets you go, you fall onto something soft. A bed. Scrambling on your hands and knees, you're not quick enough as he grabs you again, pushing you flat on your stomach. A garbled scream escapes you, coaxing a low chuckle out of him. He has his hand on your nape, a tight grip, and you whine and struggle, but he's strong, and when you suddenly feel something cold press against your neck, you freeze on the spot.

“Tsk, tsk,” he makes. “Be a good little victim now, okay? I really don't want to make my shiny new toy dirty too soon. Can you feel it? The cold blade?”

You don't even dare to breathe at this point, because, yes, you can feel it, see the large knife in your mind's eye as it teases against your delicate skin. He eases the pressure slightly when he curls one arm around your middle, pulling you back and flush against him. You'd expect his breath on your ear with how close his voice is, but you can't feel anything – except something hard like plastic pressing against your cheek. He's wearing a mask.

“So, let's have a bit of fun first, yeah?” he whispers and leans around you, and even in the dark room, with only the moonlight falling through the window, you can see the long white face with its wide open mouth and droopy eye holes glaring at you. Ghostface. “Hi,” he says, tilting his head menacingly, a low chuckle in his muffled voice. “Or would you have preferred a different sicko with a knife? We do have quite the selection tonight.”

Your lips part, but no words come out. The sight of that face, frozen in plastic, gives you the chills, but you can't deny the little flutter in your stomach. May it be your sensitive guts or something else entirely, but whatever the case, you are rendered immobile by this strange encounter.

“So, how would you like this? Shall I chase you through the house first?” he continues in a mocking tone.

You blink, trying to calm your thundering heart. “Just... let me go?” you gasp out when he raises his knife again, poking the sharp tip against the side of your neck. “Please!” you cry out with a whimper, tilting your body away.

“Aw, baby, don't worry, I won't kill you,” he says quietly, pressing his other hand against your stomach. “I just want to have some fun! And I'm sure you do too. I saw you come in, all alone, lost and lonely. Won't you like some company? Isn't that why you came here on your own? To meet people? Let loose?”

His words have the desired effect as you find yourself agreeing with him. Maybe not like this, but then again, this is a Halloween party, spookier things have happened than having some fun with a masked stranger (who teases you with a very real knife...). You can't deny that your body is already accepting whatever may happen next. The man behind you seems to sense its willingness too as his hand suddenly slips down your stomach and under your skirt and curls right between your legs, eager fingers pressing against your underwear.

“Ah, yes, see? You're so ready for this,” he hisses into your ear, and you look away in shame. “So wet. Maybe you have a knife kink?” he asks, simultaneously pressing the blade against your throat and his fingers between your wet folds, making you gasp and stiffen. As you fight the urge to squirm, he keeps rubbing along the drenched fabric of your panties, pressing hard and deep, teasing your entrance. “Would you like to have something bigger in that cute little cunt, hm, baby? I promise I brought more than just this pretty knife...”

To underline his words, he presses his groin against your back, and you can feel just how happy he is to see you. Your heart beats faster. It's a strange sensation. This feels wrong, being cornered by a stranger (with a knife no less), forced to have some fun, but then again, maybe you needed the push into the right direction. You only live once, as cheesy as it sounds, and you have to admit you've (more or less shamefully) masturbated to the occasional rape fantasy story before.

Sure it's something else to actually experience this, but your body seems to disagree. It's a thrill, an actual adventure, and the fact that you could have fought more and tried to run away but never actually did speaks volumes. Maybe you want this? And he does seem to ask you for your consent in his own twisted way, even if he has a knife pressed to your neck and his fingers between your thighs – he could have just taken you with how much bigger and stronger he is, but in the good old villain fashion he had to hear his own voice for a bit instead.

“Well?” he whispers, rubbing his plastic mask against your cheek. You can hear his labored breaths through it now, he seems just as excited as the wetness dripping against his fingertips makes you appear.

“Mhm,” you croak out, unable to find your voice or any words to make this whole situation make sense in your protesting mind. You can't believe you just agreed to this, whatever this is, but before you can ponder it any longer, he suddenly pushes you forward and you land on the bed again. Too shocked to move, you let him manhandle you onto your back, and before you know it, he's crawled over you, pushing your skirt up and your legs wide apart, holding them open with his knees.

His hands roam up your body, and you realize he's dropped the knife somewhere, as his long fingers knead your breasts through the fabric of your blouse. You lie beneath him like a stranded beetle on its back, hands palm-up next to your head, unable to even twitch, and all you can do is watch the large shadow above you, with only the white mask glowing in the dark. It's eerily intimidating, but at the same time you feel the telltale tension in your stomach, alerting you just how aroused you are.

“What a good girl you are,” he says, fingers fidgeting with the buttons of your blouse. “So submissive. Are you just as breedable, hm?”

His words make you shiver. You inhale sharply when his rough hands make contact with your soft breasts as they slip right beneath your bra, pushing it up, and you can't help pressing your chest against his touch, wanting more. He's strangely gentle in how he touches you, despite his costume, despite the power he clearly has over you. And it only adds to your arousal, making you squirm beneath him.

“Little Red's excited, huh?” he mocks as he gropes your tender tits until you feel your hard nipples pressing into his palms. “Don't worry, I'll fill you up in no time. But maybe... hmm...” he makes, slowly leaning back on his knees. His fingers grip the sides of your blouse, pulling it open and exposing you completely, before trailing over your stomach until he reaches to the side and grabs the knife again. “Maybe I want you to beg for it...”

You let out a surprised whimper when you feel the cold edge of the knife press between your breasts, teasing at the soft mounds. He's looming over you, his head (and the mask) tilted ominously to the side, the grotesque face staring down at you. You swallow hard, barely daring to move with the blade so close to your skin.

“Come on, baby, beg me to fuck you... or beg me not to kill you?”

Suddenly his hand is on your throat, and you gasp voicelessly as he closes his fingers around it, while pressing the knife firmer against your chest, the blade scratching along your skin with every rapid breath you take, no matter how hard you try not to move.

“Please,” you whimper, a series of shivers crashing down your spine. “Don't... hurt me...”

“Hmm, can't promise that, lovely,” he replies with a sigh. “I'm sure you'll like a bit of rough sex as well, won't you? And what's pleasure without a little pain, hm? Try again!”

The knife pokes a little deeper, and you're sure it broke your skin now, but he keeps holding your neck, that unnerving mask staring down at you. “Please, don't kill me,” you whisper, playing along, somehow not as frightened as you should be. “I'm too young to die!”

His laugh is low and menacing. “And too pretty as well, right? Yeah, you are,” he says with another chuckle, leaning closer until your entire vision is filled with that white face and its black eye holes. “Well, then, whatever else could we do? You know I like to kill people, slash them up real good... if only there was something I could do to you instead...”

“F-fuck me,” you croak out, surprised by your own words.

He leans back abruptly, a triumphant “Ah!” falling from behind the mask. “Good girl, Red. I can do that!”

Your head is spinning as you have a moment to contemplate what you just said, but only until you feel his hands lifting your hips before his fingers pull your panties down. He's shifted to kneel beside you, and you realize he's placed his knife right on your fluttering stomach. Your hands claw at the edges of the pillow as you ground yourself, still not even thinking about fighting back or even escaping. Why would you? You've never felt this exhilarated. Sex with a stranger. Your mother would be so disappointed, but it's all the more incentive to go through with it.

You watch his dark figure, noticing that he's rid himself of the long black robe, and you can see muscled arms and a tight black shirt, and you wished you could see it all in more detail, but it's too dark, so you just have to imagine the rest of his build. Not that it matters much, you're already aroused enough as it is (though the mental image of a big strong guy with bulging muscles pinning you to the bed certainly helps with it).

When his fingers are back between your legs, you gasp in surprise, blinking your eyes into focus as he rips you from your thoughts. His fingertips move expertly, slipping between your labia, teasing at your hooded clit, poking at your hole. All you can do is squirm slightly, moaning softly the more he touches you. He watches you, or so you think, his head tilted comically to the side, that white face leering at you ominously.

Suddenly he moves, hands on your thighs as he pushes your legs wide open, before he grabs the knife and teases the pointy tip down your stomach, over the fabric of your bunched up skirt, until you feel the cold metal against your inner thigh. You let out a croaked whimper, forcing yourself not to move too much. While he teases you with the blade, he puts his hand over your mound, pumping his palm against your wet folds until a lewd squelching sound rings in your ears that makes you blush deeply.

“Nice and wet for me, aren't you?” he mocks quietly, repeating the motions a few times before he pulls his hand back and probes two fingers against your core instead. You brace yourself for the intrusion, but you still cry out softly when he pushes inside you. Big hands with thick fingers, and two of his feel like four of yours, as he stretches your entrance and presses hard against your protesting muscles. You groan in response, thrashing your head back.

He keeps fingering you, his digits slipping in and out in a lazy rhythm that he mirrors with his knife as it scratches up and down your inner thigh, and every time he presses the blade harder against your skin, you feel your walls clenching around his fingers.

“You like that, huh?” he whispers menacingly. “Knife kink confirmed.”

You bite your lip hard to suppress more telltale noises of pleasure, but he only keeps going, teasing you, playing with you, pushing hard and fast into you, and when he curls his fingers just right, you inhale sharply, that tension in your stomach building relentlessly, almost painfully, but it's only when you suddenly feel the cold metal of the blade right against your throbbing clit that you come with a loud howl, hips bucking up, no longer caring about getting cut, as you ride the waves of bliss as if nothing else matters.

“Beautiful,” you hear his distant voice as you slowly come down from your high, bright lights dancing behind your eyelids, and you feel him still massaging your squishy walls as they contract around him. “Can't wait to feel that around my cock...”

You hear a soft clinking sound when he seems to fumble with his belt, the knife back on your belly, heavy and cold even through the fabric. His hands are on your waist then, pulling you down a little until he drapes your legs over his thighs, guiding your crotches together. You barely register any of it, your mind reeling from your orgasm, but also anticipating the feel of his dick inside you. You can't see it in the dark, but with how he is built, you can only imagine it must be equally impressive.

You don't have to think about it for long as you feel its tip pressing between your wet folds when he rubs it against you to gather your slick. Breathing harder, you open your eyes, trying to watch him. The moonlight is enough to show you a big strong body kneeling between your legs, and only the glowing mask makes it all a little eerie, but when he finally enters you, you don't care about appearances anymore. He feels glorious.

Big, oh so big, filling you out more than you would have expected as he presses deeper, nudge by nudge, little rolls of his hips until he bottoms out inside you. His hands dig into your waist, holding you against him, and you feel bruises forming, but you don't mind, you need this. His first thrust makes the knife on your stomach bounce, and you gasp loudly. The second is equally harsh as he withdraws slowly to slam back in with force.

When he finally settles into a slow but steady rhythm, you're mewling softly, overwhelmed by how he feels inside you, how your walls cling to his shaft, sucking him in and dragging along it with every push and pull, rubbing so deliciously you feel a scorching tension building up inside you, burning brighter with every snap, every deep plunge, filling you up more and more.

His hands leave your waist to grab your throat, turning your soft moans into voiceless gasps, as he slowly picks up the pace and really rams into you, using his hold on your neck as leverage to angle his pelvis against you, allowing him to hit all the good spots with ease and fervor. You cry out soundlessly, your eyes rolling back, the last thing you see that ominous white mask above you, before you come hard around him, clamping down on his pistoning cock, your wetness gushing past him as you convulse beneath him.

You feel lightheaded, blinded by bliss, barely able to breathe, but you couldn't care less. He fucks you through your literally mind-blowing orgasm, pushing you higher and higher, until you feel it building up all over again. He lets go of your throat, allowing you to cry out hoarsely as you come a second time (or so you think, not that you could think at all, much less count the highs he's forcing upon you).

He pushes you down into the bed, one hand on your shoulder, holding you steady, while his other hand grabs the knife off your stomach, and you only realize that when you feel the cold blade against your cheek, gathering your sweat on its tip. Or maybe your tears, you can't be sure, your body feels like it belongs to somebody else at the moment, and you're just here to enjoy the ride.

“Open wide,” he tells you, his voice muffled and strained, and you comply, parting your lips before you feel the blunt edge of the blade pressing against them. “Tongue out.” You follow through, still too dizzy to question anything.

He presses the knife flat against your tongue, holding it there while he keeps pounding his cock into your fluttering cunt. You can hear his labored breaths from behind the mask, his movements becoming jerkier as you just lie there, staring up at him, goosebumps rippling over your skin as your legs twitch against his sides.

The white face is looming over you, unmoving, unnerving, while the man behind it gives his all to chase his own orgasm as he thrusts into you feverishly. Your own sounds are muffled with how he holds your mouth open, and you have to really force yourself not to move your tongue against the blade. He leans down more, putting more of his weight on you, pinning you down, his hips snapping against yours in a wild rhythm, until he finally stills, a loud groan echoing in your ears as he falls forward, mask pressed to the pillow beside your head, the hand holding the knife to your tongue shaking slightly.

That last thrust made you whine as he pushed as deep as he could possibly go, bullying your cervix, and before you can even wonder if he's used a condom or not, which you doubt, but again, your mind is swimming in bliss, unable to worry about anything at all, you feel him throbbing inside you, his balls drawing up against your folds as he empties himself in your depths, filling you with spurt after spurt of hot cum. You clench around him, trying to milk him, and the motion only makes you moan into the blade pressed against your tongue as another wave of pleasure crashes over you at the sensation.

He eventually leans back up, propped on his elbow, that mask so close to your face it's all you can see. Slowly he lifts the knife, the cold pressure gone, and all that remains is a numb feeling and a whole lot of spit. You close your mouth and swallow hard, but freeze when he suddenly reaches out and wipes his fingers over your wet lips, a gentle gesture you haven't expected. He traces your mouth with his thumb, and for a moment you're tempted to pull that stupid mask off and kiss him, deeply, properly, but that's not part of your play, unfortunately.

He stares at you a moment longer before he sits up again, his chest rising and falling almost as heavily as yours. His hands trail down your body, giving your breasts a few more squeezes before he grips your hips and pushes you off him, his mask tilting down as he watches his cock slipping free from your cunt, followed by a large warm dollop of his cum spilling from between your puffy lips. He exhales loudly as he slowly gets off the bed and puts his spent cock away.

“Well, wasn't that fun,” he then says, his low voice a little strained. “Thanks for the ride, Little Red. I'll make sure to recommend you to the others...”

His words should have irritated you, but you're still too fucked-out to care. All you reply with is a soft sigh as you sink back into the bed, finally relaxing into the cushions. You watch him out of hooded eyes as he puts his robe back on, hiding those strong arms, then leans closer once more to pick up his large knife.

And then he's at the door, opening it, letting the light from the hallway spill into the room and over your soiled body. He raises his knife, waving at you almost menacingly, then slips out of the room, closing the door behind him, vanishing like a shadow in the night, leaving you alone in the dark.

You groan and thrash your head back. What a ride indeed. Not how you have planned this party to start, but what's done is done. When you eventually scramble off the bed, bra pushed back over your breasts, your shaking fingers trying to button your blouse, you realize you can't find your panties anywhere. He must have taken them. Fuck. If he wouldn't have pumped you full of his cum, you wouldn't even mind, but as you stand, you can feel it dripping down your leg, warm and sticky.

Sighing deeply, you squeeze your thighs together. Just another reason to finally find that bathroom, you think as you slip out of the room and back onto the hallway full of doors.

1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6 🔸 7

YOUR NEXT OPTIONS ARE:

check the door opposite you

go to the end of the hallway

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[amara-scott]

Imagine Mattheo and Theodore fighting over you constantly.

P.1

Reader x Mattheo Riddle / Reader x Theodore Nott

"The picknick was a good idea, I have to admit." I say, dropping another grape into my mouth, a full mouth turned into a smile. I sneak another one out of the basket Theo is carrying.

I glance over at Theo and he nods, grinning. He winks. "I know, Carina. I always have the best ideas, you should know that by now." I roll my eyes in amusement at his cocky statement.

As if on cue, I see a brown mop of curls rounding the corner, making me sigh. Great. Just great.

"Hey, what a surprise." Mattheo says, not seeming too happy as his eyes land on Theodore beside me. Mattheo shuffles something inside his jacket, flashing white, which I only catch a glimpse of. But I can't even question what it was before these two begin staring each other down.

An undeniably painful pause is the only thing holding me back from just turning around to run away. It's scaring me to even move a muscle. If these two don't sort out whatever is bugging them, I won't hesitate and avoid them both. I really did try to help them befriend each other once more. Their inner rivalry didn't get unnoticed by the rest of our friend group either. What has gotten into them these past few weeks?

"(Y/N), let's get going." Theo's free hand wraps around my wrist, not even glancing at me once while talking. He turns and tries to pull me with him, but not before Mattheo steps up, pushing Theo.

I stumble with him, still being in the grasp of Theo's strong hand. He let go and I take a step back.

"Excuse me?!" I get out before straightening up, rearranging my cloak. My glare hits Mattheo, but he is fixed on the boy in front of him as they now nearly graze noses. If I didn't know these two, I'd say one of them would be a Gryffindor. That would make sense at least. This is worse than Draco and Harry.

"Where do you think you're taking her, huh?" He grits out, and I can't say a word, too stunned I am being dragged into this ongoing fight now.

"Stop it, both of you!" I yell, but neither of them are backing down, making it really hard not to just ask a Professor to break them off. I glance around, only a few students hushing past, not daring to spare a look.

"We are going somewhere that is none of your concern, Riddle."

"Yeah? I don't think so, Nott."

"Why don't you fuck off and shag one of your whores, mind your own damn business!"

I had never seen either of them so worked up, which certainly was scary to look at. I try once more, "boys, come on, this is ridiculous." I gulp as they still don't look at me. My heart starts racing, and I try to find a way out that won't result in broken noses or wands at each other throats. What is going on with these two?!

"Come on, (Y/N)." Theo says again, making me debate what I should do. Pick a side? I don't want to be the reason one is more mad or disappointed by what I do.

"No." I mumble, feeling my eyes sting as I blink. I gulp once more, Theo's eyes finding my form a few feet behind Mattheo. His face relaxes as he looks at me.

"See? She doesn't want you, Nott." I can only make out the corner of Mattheo's lips as they curl up into a grin. Which doesn't help my situation.

"I'm not picking a side here, Matt, you are both acting extremely childish over – over, who knows what!" I turn and storm off, ignoring Matt and Theo yelling my name.

These idiots took it too far now. I won't speak a word – won't spare them another glance. Ugh, boys!

___

"-and he pushed Theo! Like a little kid! What is going on with these two?" I sat across from Pansy, piercing my fork into my piece of chocolate cake over and over again until it went mushy and the appetite left me. I sigh, my fork dropping onto the table, and I bury my face into my hands.

"You know them. They will get over it. Theo probably stole Matt's last fudge fly. They're boys, just like you said." She mumbles and keeps chewing on her dessert, eyes scanning the next page of her Witch Weekly magazine.

"I hope you're right." I mutter under my breath.

"Hey you two-" Draco joins us at the table, sitting down next to Pansy, Enzo settles beside me, I send him a brief smile.

"What's pestering you, (Y/N)? Or should I ask – who's pestering you?" He snickers and earns a stare from Pansy, making him shut up.

"Wait – do you know something, Draco?" I ask him and squint my eyes at him. He obviously does, as he stutters for a word, shaking his head. His cheeks slightly pink.

"Enzo, what is going on? Where are the others?" I turn to him, he sighs but shakes his head, sending me a small and sorry smile.

"I promised not to tell anyone. Especially not you, love." I grow irritated with the lot and push myself up, sending another glare at Draco, he would be easier to break. I take out my wand, holding it by my side and start boring holes into his head. He tries to avoid my deathly stare. But then he makes the mistake of connecting his eyes with mine.

"If you won't tell me right now where they are, I will personally make sure to have you grow a second nose every day, for the rest of the year – you will smell things you wish you didn't –"

"– come on, (Y/N), we promised –"

"– In the library, in the far back corner on the second level –" Draco squeaks, making Enzo glare at him in shock.

"We promised, Draco!"

"I don't care, I know she'll do it. I don't want a nose on my bum one morning! She knows how to get into our dorm." Draco snarls and glares at the table as I hurry off. Pansy only smirking and eating her second dessert in peace.

"Go get them!" She calls out without looking up and I wave her off, pushing past a few people on my way. My heart is racing and I don't know if I want to even meet these idiots. I promised myself to ignore them. Well that didn't take long for me to break.

I round the corner and walk into the library. My racing thoughts made this quiet place unbearable as I heard every damn thought of mine. But just as I take the last couple steps on the stairwell, I am met with hushed shouting.

"– how about you're both idiots? I really am hungry and if you two make me miss dinner, you won't sleep another night –" I hear Blaise taunting. I glance between a few books on the shelf, making out three heads. There they are. Blaise sits by the window, I could see his face clear as day. Theo sat sideways, eyes turned to the table in between them both. Mattheo on the other hand stands, pacing back and forth. He stops, just as my breath.

"Theo simply has to admit that he went behind my back. He took away the only thing that really mattered –"

"The only thing that mattered? The only thing that mattered to you was to simply get laid! Like always – just pick a different girl!" Theo stands up too now, Mattheo stepping up to his figure.

Blaise suddenly steps between them, hands on either chest and looks back and forth. "Hey, boys, you truly think we haven't had these lines already tonight? You're both ridiculous."

So this is about a girl? Is this about –

"Well, (Y/N) would never pick someone like you."

Shit.

"Like me? You're one to talk, Nott – stealing her from me, right after I told you I liked her. I trusted you, you are supposed to be my fucking best mate!" Their hushed voices are not so hushed anymore and I glance down to Miss Pince's desk. She narrows her eyes, scanning the upper level.

Blaise is struggling to hold Mattheo back now, Theo's lips curling into a smirk. I lean closer, my eyes still wide. How do they both like – me? Is this a stupid prank?

WHACK!

I was obviously leaning onto the shelf a bit too much as a book fell to the ground. Their heads turn to me and I could now clearly see all of them through the opening. I give them a weak smile and wave. "Hey –"

"(Y/N)?" Theo asks, stepping forward, around the shelf. I meet him half way, Mattheo’s eyes as hard as stone. My mouth feels dry while I try to think of what to say. I shrug and try to smile. My eyes land on Blaise who seems relieved, sighing as he walks up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, glancing between Theo and Matt.

“Maybe you’re the best to talk to them right now.” He pats my shoulder and turns to leave, I turn my head, wanting to tell him to stay, my heart racing. Blaise stops, glancing back at me. “Good luck.” He smirks and skips down the staircase. I really don’t want to turn back around so I take my time, gulping as I focus on both their shoe pairs instead of any eyes. Theo steps up slowly. “Carina, what did you hear?” My eyes shoot up at his question and Matt huffs, falling back into a cushioned arm chair.

“Obviously she heard it all. Otherwise she would be smacking our heads by now.” He mumbles at the end, his head held high as he’s glaring down at his knees, his hands squeezing the soft armrests. His sharp jaw clenching every now and then.

“I- I really-“ I take a deep breath shaking my head. “- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Theo sends me a small encouraging smile. Matt’s head rolls back as he groans out.

“Oh please, stop that stupid emphasizing scheme!” Matt stands back up and joins us, glaring at Theo in disgust. Theo just rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“Just because you’re cold-hearted and only care about yourself doesn’t mean everyone has to-“

“-oh I only care about myself? You’re one to talk, fucking backstabber-“

“-Me? You are-“

“Hey!” I yell out, them both turning to me as they are once again almost choking each other. I ignore a few shushes thrown our way. Mattheo’s eyes soften as I look directly at him. His lips part and in his eyes I see that he’s struggling to hold back from saying what’s on his mind. “Matt-“ I get out, holding back my own emotional rollercoaster.

“I- I can’t-“ He stammers, rushing past me and running down the stairs, leaving. I walk up to the railing, my hands closing around the cold wood while I am looking after him.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” My head snaps around, Theo’s sad eyes glossy. He looks down, stepping closer and stops a foot from me. His eyes wandering back up, like he’s taking one last good look at me. Taking me in.

“It’s always been him.” He continues.

———

For part two choose your ending:

Mattheo

Theodore

Third ending?... (coming soon)

[the0doreslover]

not all men leave you disappointed |t.n

Pairing: fem!reader x Theodore nott

Warnings: smut, porn w no plot, fingering, blowjob, making out, p in v sex (reader is definitely on the pill) wrap it before you fucking tap it, swearing, pet names (baby, bella, that’s it)

Summary: it’s your fault, and you’re in the wrong, but none of that seems to matter with theodore nott

Guilt.

thats the only word you could think of to describe what you felt while you stared at the sleeping boy next to you. You ran a hand over your face while the memories of last night teased your mind.

~ last night

“why does he get to treat you like that?”

you turned towards the voice and sighed once theodore nott came into your view

“leave it”

you heard him laugh

“real men don’t leave girls disappointed”

“and i suppose you know all about not leaving a girl disappointed right nott?” you snickered

“precisely, and i think you know that better than anyone”

“you said you’d forget about that”

“i tried” he hummed walking closer to you “bella i tried really hard”

your laughter slowed once you noticed his eyes wandering down to your lips.

“i told you it could never happen again” you whispered watching as he walked closer to you

“nothings happening”

you turned your head towards the ceiling

“you’re so beautiful”

his hand ran along your cheek and turned your face toward him.

“tell me to stop”

you wanted to, you really really wanted to… instead you watched as the gap between you seemed to shorten

“nott”

“that’s not my name”

“theodore”

“hm”

“i have a boyfriend”

“i know” were the final words that you remember hearing before his lips were on yours and your back on the stone wall behind you.

his hands roamed your body grasping onto everything he could and attempting to feel you even closer than you already were.

he pulled away from your lips and begun trailing kisses down your neck, you knew it would leave marks but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

the thoughts of your boyfriend ghosted at the back of your mind, but with each mark theo left on you they seemed to linger less.

“Come to my dorm?” he said trying to catch his breath.

your heart made a decision before your head and before you knew it you were on his bed while he was on top of you. The buttons on your shirt wide open.

“theo please”

“please what”

you clenched your thighs together feeling a rush of heat going towards them.

“please do something!”

“only cause you asked so nicely baby” he smirked lowering his mouth to your neck, giving attention to your whole body and placing kisses down your stomach while slowly edging towards your heat.

he took his time with every inch of you focusing on making you feel loved, his hands found their way under your thighs and he pulled you closer towards him. He pulled your skirt up revealing your lace underwear and you could of swore you saw his eyes darken, he licked a line along your slit before gazing up at you.

“you’re so wet for me baby, does he make you this wet?” he smirked

you tried to answer but nothing came out

without warning theodore slipped a finger inside you “answer me baby”

“Fuck! No Theodore only you”

He hummed in approval and added another finger inside you while quickening his pace.

“i’m just reminding you that not all men are disappointing bella”

“Fuck theo! i’m c-”

you came undone all over his fingers.

Once theodore was eye level with you again he was quick to grab the back of your head and pull you into another kiss, you put your arms around his neck while your tongues explored as much of each others mouths as they could.

He flipped you so you were on top of him his mouth not leaving yours.

you pulled away and begun leaving sloppy kisses down his chest, you paused before reaching his trousers

“i hate you so much”

“no you don’t”

you sat up as he helped unbuckle his trousers, you helped him pull down his boxers and watched as his length sprung free, you crawled towards him and rubbed your hand over the tip, his precum spilling out as you rubbed against him,

you got closer to him and took his tip in your mouth, he groaned before putting a hand through your hair and gathering a makeshift ponytail, he guided you down fully until his entire length was in your mouth making you gag slightly.

“You make me feel so good baby, no one else.. only you”

he watched as your head bobbed up and down on him making him feel so good

“you know you’re really mine, fuck!”

you could tell with the way his dick twitched that he about to cum, but quickly you took him out your mouth

“what the fuck?” he groaned but quickly shut up when he noticed your smile

“don’t you trust me theo?”

“more than anything baby”

you lifted yourself from your position and put your leg over straddling him. you felt him poking into your ass from behind.

you straightened before lowering yourself onto his length.

your eyes shut and you felt him against your walls and fuck, no one has ever made you feel so good

you started bouncing slowly, along with your tits, theo would say you looked fucking angelic, he was almost in a trance watching you move on top of him.

you picked up your pace and tried your best to quieten your sounds, but you couldn’t help it… he felt so perfect inside you.

he had his eyes shut and his hands lay on your hips guiding you. He truly looked like a piece of art infront of you

“Baby i’m coming!”

“me too” you almost screamed as you increased your pace again.

~ present

You shook the thoughts from your head and instead focused on putting your clothes back on.

“Leaving so soon?”

“i have class, i’m going to meet my boyfriend before then” you didn’t look at him but you heard him laugh.

“so are you going to admit it?”

“admit what theodore?”

“that not all men leave you disappointed”

“goodbye theo” you rolled your eyes

“oh and one more thing!”

you huffed before turning towards him

“maybe cover your neck first”

“ you fucking bastard”

[rae-writes]

when it's time for mc to return to their original timeline how do you think the [nightbringer] characters would react if mc told them that they were from future and it's time for them to go back to the present timeline and that they'd meet them then

The common room was silent— so silent, it sounded like the entire Devildom was sleeping all at once. There was tension so thick you could cut it by just swiping at the air- there were eleven pairs of eyes trained onto Mc; the single tear that dripped down their face was like a harsh shock wave.

"I'm sorry...but I have to leave- I have to go back to my timeline now..I'll see you again when I return, okay? I promise."

Lucifer is absolutely flabbergasted, red eyes wide as he scanned your face for any signs of humor, but you weren’t joking. His hands trembled uncharacteristically, fingers twitching as he stretched his arm out to try and grab at you; "What do you mean you have to go? Don't...your place is here, with us, you can't leave- what the hell do you mean you'll see me 'when you return', I'm me! I'm right here! Don't go-!"

Mammon doesn't fully process your words, only really catching the part where you said you had to leave. He feels nauseous and scared as he immediately begins to stammer and stumble over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so he can feel that you’re still there; "Y-you can't leave! Why would you want to leave- your home is here, you belong with us- with me- I'm right here, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! I-I need you! Please!"

Levi instantly has tears in his eyes, too preoccupied with watching you start moving away from him to realize you said you’d see him again. His tail whips out to circle your waist, arms frantically grabbing at you as he cries; "W-w-wait-! D-don't go, don't leave...did I do s-something- a-are you leaving because of m-me? I-I'll fix it, I p-promise, just please don't go..."

Satan's first instinct is to get angry- to throw a fit and throw anything in reach and scream and lash out, but he just stands there staring at you. He understands the concept of time travel and other timelines- he's read all about it- and essentially knows that he'll see you in less than a minute once you go back, and yet...; "Leaving...? You're leaving? I- I don't...I don't want you to go..don't-...just..Mc, please."

Asmo hears everything you're saying, but he just doesn't understand! He practically curls his whole body around you as he stutters through his denial, trying so hard not to cry because it would ruin his makeup; "What do you mean you're leaving, hon? Time travel is nonsense..you belong here, with us! Y-you're not actually going to leave me, right? Not me...don't leave me.."

Beel immediately panics as his thoughts run rampant about losing you and never getting to see you again, despite you assuring him that you'd see him very soon- he can't lose someone close to him again, not you- and the way he grabs onto you shows his desperation; "No! I-I mean...no, you can't leave us- why would you leave us? I thought you were at home here, with us, please...I can't lose you, too..."

Belphie, like his twin, is panicking- but he's in a hysterical panic. He breaks down into sobs and apologies right at your feet- apologizing for any time he was snippy with you and especially the time he got so mad he almost hurt you after finding out you were human- he's so sorry, just..don't leave-!; "No, no, no! You can't! You can't leave us, please, don't leave, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong to you- just don't leave me! Please, don't leave me..."

Diavolo understands the concept of what you're saying, though it's still hard for him to grasp the fact that you're leaving to go back to a different him...why couldn't you just stay with him in this 'timeline'? Didn't...didn't you still like him either way?; "What...what? Mc, I don't understand...just stay. Here. With- with me, with us, I don't...why must you go back? Don't you like it here?"

Barbatos shouldn't be worried. He knows exactly what you're talking about and what you mean by 'see you again when I return' and yet he can't help but feel at a loss, torn between letting you just walk away or trying to stop you- he doesn't want you to go back to future him...he wants you here with this him; "I...wait, Mc..don't-...don't go back. Stay, please..I know I'll remember the time we spent together here when you return, but I...I don't want to let you go.."

Simeon is in an odd state between panicked and calm. One on hand, he trusts you. If you say you promise you'll see him again- whatever that means- he believes you. But on the other hand, he's already lost so much in life and he can't possibly bear to lose you too, so he grabs you and holds on tightly; "Go? What do you mean 'go'? I...Mc...I don't want to let you go..I don't want you to leave- please stay...with us. With me."

Luke's confusion dances across his face as he latches onto your waist, firing a thousand questions at once, as fast as he can speak them; "What do you mean you're leaving? How can you see me when you 'return'- what does that even mean?! I'm the only me...and I'm right here- where...where are you going?! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go!"

bonus :

Solomon is there to wrap his arms around your waist tightly for comfort, keeping the others from coming too close; he can't let them take you away from him- won't let them convince you to stay. Your place is in your own timeline, with the present versions of them, with him. He promised he'd bring you back home with him and no one is going to stop him; "Come on, Mc...let's go. We need to go- this is what we've been working towards remember? You'll see them in less than a second once we go through the portal. I'm here with you, I'm not ever going to leave your side. You trust me don't you? Let's go home. Together."

[tamas-love]

（ 제목 ）GOOD GIRL.

PRESENT.⠀⟡​⠀you attempted to escape sunghoon, but being caught came with its' consequences.

（ 박성훈 ） — pairing = fem!reader x yandere!sunghoon ୨୧ warning = manhandling, groping, nipple rubbing, aggressive kissing, threatening, fingering, others may be unlisted ୨୧ wc = 1,030

a/n : yandere smut again! i feel like i'll post a bunch of yandere smut, mostly because i've been obsessed with it lately.. and tysm for all the love on my latest heeseung one !!! more smut coming soon <3

click me! ↓

ㅤ𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈 fucking say about running?" Sunghoon growled, you just tried to run away from him, and he wasn't having it. He was taking you upstairs to his room while firmly grasping you over his shoulder. Usually he would tie you up and lock you up in the basement if you attempted to escape. However, he was frustrated today. "Today you're gonna learn your lesson."

ㅤYou struggled against his strong grasp, hands balled up into fists as you hit his back repeatedly—as if the weak hits would do anything to him. "Let go of me!" You screamed, kicking your legs. You continued to struggle, but it was like trying to free yourself from the clutches of a steel vice.

ㅤSunghoon's grip tightened ever so slightly as you fought against him. "Quiet down," He growled, not breaking his steady pace up the stairs. "Don't make this worse for yourself."

ㅤUpstairs, his bedroom was large and lavish, decorated with rich, dark colors that contrasted with the white sheets of the bed. Sunghoon tossed you onto the mattress and pinned you down by the waist, holding you down effortlessly. "Do I need to break something to teach you a lesson?" ,he threated, his eyes dark and intense as he leaned down.

ㅤThe scent of his cologne filled the air as his hand moved to grab your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You. Can't. Escape." He whispered menacingly. You continued to squirm and wriggle, trying to find any opportunity to escape his strong hold.

ㅤ"I'm not yours.. I will leave!" You whined. Managing to turn your head slightly, your gaze flickered around the room—searching for something, anything that could potentially help you.

ㅤSunghoon chuckled lowly at your defiance, his face full of cold anger. "Oh, but you are," He retorted, his voice now a low rumble. "If you try to run again, I'll break your fucking legs. "And don't think I won't break you if I must. You'll beg me to keep you by the time I'm done." Sunghoon leaned in closer, the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

ㅤAs you searched the room, he caught your wrists in a strong grip, stopping you mid-motion. "You think you can find a way out? A weapon to save yourself with?" He questioned, an amused look in his eyes. "I assure you, there's nothing here that'll help you. The only escape is through me." Sunghoon released your wrists and slid his hand up your arm, tacing the line of your body until he reached your throat. His fingers tightening ever so slightly.

ㅤ"Now, we can do this the hard way or the easy way. It's up to you." He said, his voice dangerously calm. "But let me warn you, the hard way will be much more painful." His hand squeezed, just enough to make you gasp, before releasing it's hold.

ㅤ"F-Fuck you.." You mumbled, looking up at him defiantly—even as you were under him. Sunghoon's eyes filled with anger and desire, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "I can be patient, but you're making it really hard for me." He warned, his voice taking on a threatening tone. Fuck, he was scary like this. "And then I'll have you begging, screaming my name with every pleasured moan."

ㅤHe leaned in to capture your lips with his, his mouth hot and demanding. His tongue invaded your mouth with dominance, as if claiming you once more. As he kissed you, his cold hand moved down to your chest, kneading and squeezing your breast through your shirt.

ㅤThe rough material of the fabric pressed against your nipple, hardening under the sudden touch. You were sensitive there, causing a hitched gasp to leave your mouth. Sunghoon broke the kiss, panting and staring into your eyes. "I own you, understand?" He demanded, his tone harsh and unyielding. 

ㅤ"Say it." He leaned down, nipping at your neck, the sharp pain making you wince and moan. "Say it, or I'll take it from you. Everything you are will become mine."

ㅤ"I-I'm not saying that..!" You refused, trying to squirm away from him. Sunghoon smirked, his fingers beginning to roam your body. "You'll say it, or I'll make you scream it." He growled, his hand now slipping beneath your skirt, finding your wetness. He began to tease your core, his fingers pressing against you—just enough to make your hips buck against his hand.

ㅤ"You're mine," He said, his voice low and commanding. "You're my possession, my little plaything. Say it." He thrust a finger inside you, watching as you gasped and arched into his touch. "Say it, or I'll keep you from coming when you're right on the edge." He threatened, his finger moving in and out of you, thumb rubbing your clit.

ㅤThe pleasure was building up, and the edge of your orgasm was just within reach. Sunghoon's eyes gleamed, his expression a wicked smile. "Say it, and I'll let you come. Or don't, and I'll make you beg for release." His fingers increased it's pace, the rhythmic thrusts driving you closer and closer to what you craved.

ㅤ"F-Fuck, I'm yours.. Sunghoon please, I'm yours!" You cried, and Sunghoon's smirk formed, his eyes darkening with satisfaction. "That's my good girl," He cooed, his finger continuing its relentless assault on your sensitive flesh. "Now come for me, like the good girl you are." He whispered, kissing your jaw.

ㅤAs the words left his mouth, he added another finger, stretching and filling you. The sensation was overwhelming, your body trembling as you give in to the pleasure. Sunghoon didn't stop until you came on his fingers, feeling your arousal coat all his fingers while your cries of pleasure filling the room.

ㅤRockets of pleasure shooting up your spine. When you finally finished—panting and shivering beneath him—he pulled his fingers from your hole, his eyes filled with satisfaction. "Good girl." He praised, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

ㅤThis time, however, his kiss was tender. "Now be a good girl," Sunghoon released you from his hold and helped you get comfortable in his bed, his arm wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly in a possessive manner.

ㅤ"Now we can rest together." He whispered softly, his hand stroking your hair.

"Don't forget, I own you."

© tamas-love on tumblr, © tamas-love on wattpad ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.

[lucerothings1]

Rents due.

Pairing: Oscar Isaac and male reader

Warnings: gay smut, anal, oral, top Oscar bottom reader, sir and Mr. Kinks.

Summary: when your parents leave you with no way to pay the bill while they are gone you gotta get creative.

————————————————————————

“Honey you are okay we can buy another ticket” your mother had said to you as she was saying her goodbyes along with your father as they were getting ready to go to their trip.

“Mom I’m good really you both go and enjoy your cruise” you told her with a reassuring smile. “Okay then well be safe okay” she responded knowing she wern't going to win with you “Mhm I know be safe and let me know when y’all arrive” you yelled to them from he front door all the way to their car as they waved goodbye and where officially off for their three month vacation.

--------------------------------------------------------

“Knock! knock!” You heard at the front door as you got up from the couch and made your way up fixing yourself up only wearing the black short shorts your mother hated saying that there where to revealing so of course you wore them now that you were alone as you noticed it was your landlord “Hi Mr. Isaac what’s up” You greeted the man that as standing at the door “Hi y/n are your parents home” he asked “um no actually they are out of town for vacation um what did you need” you responded.

“Oh okay it’s just that rent was due a week ago and I’ve been trying to get a hold of your dad and mom but no response” he said “Yeah um come in let me check real quick if they have there check book here and I can get you that” you said opening the door to the man as he went inside as you closed the doors and you headed to their room.

“I’ll be back” you smiled at the man how just nodded back as you walked away feeling his eyes nearly burning a hole through you. “Okay so bad news I can’t find any check books whatsoever I think they must of took them” you said to him as you found him sitting on the couch in your living room now “oh oh don’t worry it’s fine I guess I can wait when are they coming back” he questioned “um bout that they aren’t coming back till in three months” you answered “Ohh okay and what they left you here all alone what if someone try’s to break in or something” he said getting up and crossing his arms with a teasing grin.

“Well you don’t gotta worry bout that Mr.issac and yeah I’m not much of a cruise guy but what about you Mr. Issac what are you up to” you said stepping closer as you stated to check him out and how his tight shirt hugged all the right places. “Not much these days just at home and work” he responded “That’s good and how’s Mrs. Issac doing” you asked looking at him more trying to still see if that grin was a flirt or just his face playing tricks.

“Um oh yeah no Mrs.Issac any more y/n” he responded with a smile "oh really what happened of it’s not to muchto ask” you asked “oh no your fine and just grew apart love stops and all but divorce feels nice now” he responded looking you up and down “Quick question y/n” Oscar asked “ yeah what’s up” “ how old are you” “ um I’m 21 yeah just turned last year” you said as you now returned the looks as you both looked eyes.

“Y/n do me a quick questain why so formal with the Mr.” he said whispering at your ear as he walked closer to you “ You know how I am Mr.Issac but I think I know how to pay that rent now” you said as you pushed him on to the wall and closed the gap between you both and started to make out with each other

“Mm how bout me go to my room” you moaned out as he darted to your neck sucking at it. “Nah I don’t think so” he said as he separated himself from your lips and pulled you onto his grasp and walked over to the couch. “Come here baby” he said sitting down and pulling you from your shorts down onto his lap as you took your place and sat as he took hold of your waist and started to attack your chest marking it all as you continued to tease as you rolled your hips starting to feel his hard on.

“Ah fuck baby come on slip these off” he said you as you later got up and stripped and he started to as well kicking off his shoes and throwing his shirt god knows where. “ I’ve got the rest” you said to him as he kept looking at you with his lust darkened eyes as you reached to unbuckle his pants “Nah uh use your mouth” he said lifting up his eyebrow as you grinned and complied and reached with your mouth as you started to suck through his jeans and leave a wet stain on his clothed cock.

“Hurry up boy wouldn’t want to get all rough with you just yet for teasing me” he breathed out as you obeyed and reached for the zipper pulling it down with your teeth as you then pulled down the remainder of the pants throwing them to the side now leaving him in just boxers. “Come on baby boy use that mouth of yours” he said grinning as his you looked at his cock twitching and leaving a stain on his boxers of precum.

“Fuck sir your cock is huge” you marveled “well come on then why don’t you taste it” Oscar whispered as you reached over pulling the boxers down as his hard on 9 inch and thick cock nearly almost the size of a beer bottle sprang free finally as it hit you on the face swinging back as you got ahold of it with its aching red tip basically calling you in as you opened your mouth and began tapping it on your tongue.

“Oh fuck yeah boy come on use that pretty throat of yours” Oscar moaned as he got ahold of your hair and pulled you down onto him. “Ah fuck yeah baby come on start slow” he said throwing his head back as he held a grip on your hair as you could see the pleasure on his face as you licked laps around his sensitive tip. “Oh fuck I’m sorry baby but I can’t wait” he breathed out as he tightened his grip and pushed you up and down on him as the room was now filled with the sounds of you gagging and his balls fitting your chin.

“Fuckk you like that boy you love my big fat cock don't you” he said to you as he pulled you up ftom his cock "Mhm" "Use your words" he gritted out his teeth slpping you "Yes Mr.Issac I love your cock" you obeyed with tery eyes and your red face. "yeah you do baby come on all fours" he told you with his hand to your chin as he closed the gap between the both as you let him.

"Okay thats enough go on" oscar sent you on your way as you stud up and got onto the couth on your hands and knees. "God look at that pretty hole just calling to me" oscar yelled laughing "Come and get it Mr. Isaac" you looked back at him with a grin as you wiggeld your ass at him. "Teasing now are we y/n but dont mind if I do" he responded kneeling down as you soon felt his hot breath near your entreance "Just look at it teasing me" oscar said as he went in for it as you felt his warm touge pushing in you.

"Oh god sir please don't ever stop" you moaned out dropping your face onto the couch as you begun to pull at your member for relive as he soon pushed even deeper and wrapped his arms around your thighs. "Yeah baby you like that here let me help" he said as he took your cock in one hand as he then pointed out his tounge as it entered you even more as he began fucking you with his glorios tounge "god i love it so much god your amazing" you responed.

"you wanna know something" he whispered as he got up and pulled you by your hair "what sir" "That if you think thats amazing i wonder what you'll think of my cock deep inside you" he said in a tone that had made you even more horny if possible "i cant wait" you breathed out as he grinned and kissed you pushing you back down as he went back to town on your hole and reviling your self.

"Mr. Issac I'm getting closer" you desperately moaned out "Oh no we cant have that juet yet baby" he moaned out removing his hand "Come on on your back i want to see that beautiful face of yours when im balls deep in you" he commanded as you gladly obayed as you were meet with the sight of oscar as he spit onto his fingers "Come on wide legs" he said tapping on your leg as you did what was told "I'm gonna put my fingers in okay" "Okay" you responded to him as you began to feel the presure as his fingers entered as he lost no time pulling in and out.

"that feel good" he askd "yeah not better then your touge though" you grinned "well something better is still to come" he responed "It really is" you said as two fingers then became three then four. "Okay your open enough" said quickly as he spat onto his hand again now reaching down word and stroking himself as he stood up a bit. "Is that actully gonna fit" you asked to him as he looked back at you and grinned "Oh trust me it'll fit and if not we'll make it fit" he said as he reached over and kissed you as he positioned himslf in bettween your legs as you bgan to feel the same presure from early just much more bigger "I'm going in okay" he moaned in bettween kisses keeping you distracted from the pain soon turned pleasure as you nodded in acknowledgement.

"Oh fuckk god your tight and warm baby boy" osacr moaned "Fuck your big" you moaned in responce "dose it hurt" he questioned "No god no i love it" you breathed out getting used to his size in you. "you can move now" you nodded out to him as he listened and began a slow pase of in an out "God baby just look at you taking me in so well" oscar moaned out as he was laser foucesd on his cock going in and not of you.

"Go faster sir" you begged "Your wish is my command baby" he replied as he speed up his pase causeing the room to be filled of moans of pleasure form both of you and sounds of skin slapping skin as he began to stroke your member and got to attaking your chest leaving more marks all over you as you grabed at his hair "Just lok at you baby" he said to you as he took your hand to your stomch "just feel what i do to you" he maoned into your ear as you could feel his cock go in an out of you causing you to have a visablebelly bulge "Oh fuck Mr.Issac Im close" you ylled as seeing that alone sent you over "Me to baby were do you want it" he asked "Inide me sir breed me please" you moaned out arching your back in "OH FUCKK I'MM CUMMINGG" you yelled out exploding on oscars hand and your chest "Me too baby boy" osacr moaned as he felt you tighten up around him taking over the edge as you felt him paint your insides white with his baby juice "fuck yeah boy take my cum" he panted as you both rode out your highs.

"fuck that was good" osacr said as he puleld him self up a bit while still inside you. "Coulden't agree more" you breathed out "how long are your parents away for again" he asked "three months why" "Oh no just gonna give me enough time to fuck you all the times i want" he smirked "Oh most defnitely" you said grabbing ahold of him kissing him again.

"So round two" he said in bettween kisses "hell yeah" you responded "Okay good now I want you to ride me" he grinned as he got you from your waist and flipped you both as to him now underneath you and you sitting onto of his lap which lead to you both like he had thought fucking all summer long and even after that sneaking behind of your parnets.

--------------------------------------------------------

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 2

Part 1

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 1608

If anyone were to ask how he reacted when Damian jumped from the bed to attack him, Dick would say that he reacted exactly as a vigilante who’s been on the job for years now would. Ask anyone else who was there to witness it though and you’d get a much different story of events. 

"Aaaahhh!" Both Dick and Damian slam onto the ground. Damian hits don't pack as much of a punch as they normally would, but that doesn't mean they're not precise when hitting a body's weak spots. "Dam- oof, Damian! It’s okay, you're safe! I'm your brother!" 

That did not have the desired effect he wished it did on the smaller boy; if anything Damian seemed to grow angrier at the mention of them being brothers. "Liar!"  

The others must have heard the commotion because the next moment the med bay door is being thrown open with everyone rushing in. Jason is the first one to get to them, and when he does he's quick to grab Damian. He holds the furiously kicking child to his chest while pinning Damian's arms to his side. 

"Dick, you alright?" Duke is kneeling by his side with a comforting hand on his shoulder as he helps Dick sit up. "Baby Damian really caught you off guard, huh?"

Somewhere in the midst of all the chaos happening Dick hears the sound of a camera click, and he can't help but smile. Another photo down!

"Damian," Bruce's voice is firm as he says, "You need to calm down; no one here is going to hurt you."

That of course does nothing to calm the child who just woke up with strangers surrounding him. "Since when has telling someone to calm down ever worked?" Tim questions as he watches everything from the doorway. 

Bruce sends a slight glare Tim's way before directing his attention back to his youngest child, "Chum, my name is Bruce Wayne, do you know who I am?"

"No, but I know that you've somehow managed to take me hostage," Damian growls out. He's stopped struggling in Jason's arms, and seems to be analyzing them all with a hard gaze. "Who are you working for?"

"Do you know about Batman?" Bruce counter questions instead of giving any kind of answer. 

"I might; is he the one behind this?" Damian for the first time looks unsure about what's happening,

Jason gives a little amused huff, "That is Batman, demon brat."

"Surely not!" Damian judgmentally looks Bruce up and down, "Batman is definitely taller than him." 

That of course got a laugh from everyone, and even Bruce had an amused smile on his face as he thought about how Damian said something similar when meeting him for the first time. 

"And do you know who Batman is when it comes to you?" Dick asks after a few seconds. It's clear at this point that Bruce is trying to see if Damian has been told who his father is. If they can establish that relationship now it might save them all from anymore attacks; at least for the rest of the night.

Instead of answering Damian tucks his chin to his chest and glares at the ground. What's really shocking though is how his body goes almost limp. It seems to shock Jason as well because his tight grip even loosen, and changes to a more gentle hold.

Asking questions probably isn't going to get the baby assassin to trust Dick thinks to himself; not with how his youngest brother was raised. They're going to have to try something else, "Hey Dami, how about we-" 

Before he can continue though Dick is cut off by a loud smacking sound. Damian had very suddenly thrown his head back so that it would hit Jason square in the face. He wouldn't be surprised if it even broke Jason's nose from the sound.

With Jason's grip already loose it doesn't take a lot of effort for Damian to escape his grasp, and make a run for the door. Tim, who was far more focused on his camera, didn’t even have a second to properly react before he was being knocked out of the way. Allowing the young child access to the whole cave.  

"Motherfu-" Jason cuts himself off with a groan before running towards the door as well, "You really let him run right past you, Timbo?"

"You're the one who let him go!"

"He broke my nose!" 

"Guys!" Duke shouts as he runs past the two of them, "let's focus on finding Damian before fighting with each other!" 

That kicked everyone into gear as soon all of them were now trying to find the escapee who had seemingly disappeared. The only thing they can hope for right now is that he doesn't find a weapon of any kind. 

Everyone has split off in different areas to search, and taking the situation more seriously knowing that the kid could pop out of anywhere and attack them. It's not until after 20 mins of searching that Dick decides to just start speaking, hoping that he can somehow convince him to come out of hiding at the very least. 

"Damian, I know that you know Batman is your father, and now you know that Bruce," He gestures to where the older man is standing, "is Batman; your father! I swear you are safe here."

The cave is covered in silence as everyone waits for a response to come. Just as it looks like nothing will happen a slight but deliberate sound comes from the side of where he is.

"Damia-" 

"Silence." Damian speaks forward enough to be seen, but making sure to stand out of reach, "Did Mother set this test up? Grandfather? Either way I'm not falling for it. If you wanted to make this more convincing you should have included my brother."

Dick felt a pain in his chest at that word. Brother? Did Damian really have a brother while at the league? Is he talking about a sort of battle brother, or did Talia have another kid? Is it Bruce's kid? Taking a glance to where Bruce is he sees that the man must be having the same thoughts as his face sits somewhere between anger and grief. 

"You have a brother!?" Tim is the one that finally asks the question on everyone's mind. 

"There is no need to continue this act; I've already figured out that this isn't real."

"Like the same mom, same dad type of brother?" Duke even looks aghast at the revelation of a second possible child of Bruce. 

Damian only looks more annoyed at each question, but answers anyway in a tone that makes it clear that he thinks the answer is obvious, "Tt of course. That tends to be the case with twins after all." 

Damian has a twin?

The de-aged child in front of him could lie about a lot of things right now to get an advantage in this situation, but what advantage does lying about a twin get him? Damian seems so sure that all of this is a test from the league. There is no way he could lie about something like this. 

Damian is a twin. 

As much as Dick wished it wasn’t true he couldn’t lie to himself about this. Between the ages of 6 and 10 something must have happened to the other boy. He’d bet money that whatever it was made Talia bring Damian to the manor. Why did she or Damian never say anything? Was his brother even given the chance to mourn the loss of his brother?

Damian had a twin. 

"Jason, you were with the league for a while, did Damian really have a twin?" Tim whispers quietly to the man standing next to him.

"I wasn't exactly in the right state of mind when I was there, and even then I never saw the brat or brats I suppose." 

"Enough!" Damian suddenly slams a foot onto the ground clearly done with everyone around him whispering, "the test is done, and I'm ready to return back to the compound." 

Tim now turns to Bruce with nothing but shock still on his face, "I think it'd be easier to just explain the truth to him. Otherwise this is what the next couple days are going to be like.”

"The baby assassin is just going to keep attacking us and trying to escape otherwise." Jason adds on as well as he takes a seat at the center table. “I for one would like to keep the demon spawn close by because I’ve got some questions he’s going to need to answer ASAP when he’s normal again.”

Bruce seems to finally snap out of his trance and slowly starts to make his way to Damian. Once he's just out of reach of his son he kneels down so that he's much closer to Damian's current height. "Son, this isn't a test, and I am your father.”

"You are a liar; my father wouldn't leave Danyal behind!" 

No one was surprised this time when Damian sprung forward to attack Bruce. In the end Alfred had to give him a light sedative to calm him down enough to be laid back down on the med bay bed. Duke even went upstairs, and brought Alfred the cat down to sleep in the boy's lap. Unsurprisingly, that cat still loves him when he's this small. 

For now they can only hope that things will be calmer when Damian wakes up again. 

The cave after that was met with suffocating silence as there was only one thought in everyone's head.

"What happened to Danyal?"

[for-ests]

Fine Line: Gojo Satoru x Reader

summary: friends to lovers, gojo is in love with the campus doctor, and can't hide it any longer. lovesick gojo is my favvveee<3 wc: 4.4k warnings: fluff then SMUT ^^

Once again, Gojo was in your office in the middle of the night.

"What time is it?" you asked, borderline scolded, but refrained from rolling your eyes. After every mission, he would make an excuse to find his way onto your hospital bed. And every single time, he had nothing more than minor scrapes and bruises but would always insist you look over him "just in case."

"Late, I know." He looked somewhat guilty.

"Was this curse too strong for the students again?" you teased, reaching for your gloves but not bothering to put them on. One glance at Gojo, and you knew. You just knew he was there for a different reason. The white-haired sorcerer wasn't physically hurt. He rarely ever was. But now, his excuses to see you were becoming apparent to you and others.

"You could say that." He shook his head, forcing himself to release a chuckle. He was about to cross a very fine line, one that was established the day he met you. But he was only a man, and he needed to at least try and quell the need he felt for you.

It was internal, and Gojo felt like you were one of the only people who truly saw him and took the time to listen to him. After all these years of admiring you in silence, he still couldn't come clean with it. Every time he visited you, his heart twisted with an unquenchable yearning, feeling betrayed and played by fate. He was lost in a sea of emotions, unable to make sense of it all. Despite the turmoil of his everyday life, despite the responsibility that weighed on his shoulders, he found solace in your presence. 

Would it ever go away?

You were like a beacon in the darkness of his world. Your smile illuminated the space, radiating warmth and energy that seemed to chase away the shadows that clouded his mind. Despite having the attention of any woman he could dream of, he could not tear his gaze away from you. Why couldn't he leave you alone? Why couldn't he get you out of his head?

"Y/N, look at me," he called out softly, his voice warm and inviting. It was a desperate plea to draw your attention away from your surroundings and towards the turmoil that raged within his soul.

Catching the seriousness of his tone, you froze, setting down your prep materials. Your eyes carefully rose to meet his, and you almost gasped. Gojo, the strongest man you knew, was on the verge of tears.

“Are you feeling okay?” you asked, almost getting lost in the blue of his glistening eyes. It had always been hard for you to hold his gaze for long, as the intensity of his stare made you flustered. You often wondered if he looked at anyone else like this, talked to them like this, touched them like he had you.

Breath catching in his throat, Gojo saw the subtle hint of concern on your face—it was endearing. You seemed so beautiful and so caring, and it only added to his feeling of helplessness. 

Gently, he grasped your hand and placed it over his heart, letting you feel the rapid beat that betrayed his inner turmoil.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, a hint of vulnerability in his usually confident tone. "But can you do something for me?"

“W-what?” you asked, feeling his heartbeat, which was definitely faster than usual. The fabric of his shirt bunched between your fingertips. 

Gojo continued to hold your gaze; his grip on your hand was gentle but firm. 

"Can you... just sit with me for a moment? I need your company right now," he said, slightly hoarse. “I don’t wanna leave here again without saying what I really feel…” 

“Oh, okay.” You blinked, eyebrows creased as you joined him on the hospital bed. 

Your professionalism vanished as you noticed the glassy forlornness in his beautiful blue eyes. Sitting next to him, you leaned into his embrace. 

After a moment of silence, you asked, “Did something happen?” Your finger traced the outside of his palm to try to soothe him further. God… his hands were so soft despite how large and powerful they were.

Gojo let out a deep breath as he felt you lean against him, the weight of your body against his. It was perfect. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the comfort your presence provided. He opened his eyes again at your question and looked down at your joined hands. Friends didn’t touch each other like this, right? 

"It's...complicated," he said, his voice quiet after a moment. "I just... need a distraction from my thoughts right now. Your company is enough."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips at your comfort, one that sent a jolt of electricity through him. You had always been enough, and he had always loved you. Now, it was just impossible to ignore.

“Talking about it can be the best cure and distraction,” you whispered, faintly smiling back at him. “You know you can tell me anything, Satoru, I will never think of you differently.”

Those simple words from your lips were like a balm to his wounded soul. Gojo felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and affection filling his chest.

"You're too kind," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with emotion. "But this...this could change everything between us."

He raised his free hand and gently brushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.

You sighed blissfully in response. Just the faintest touch from him flustered you. It was so tender, and you wanted more. You always savored any physical moment you had with him. God, you were so infatuated with him, and he didn't even know it.

Gojo's eyes followed the path his finger traced across your cheek, and he couldn't help but notice your reaction. He felt a pang in his chest as he saw the way your body responded to his touch, practically melting against him. Was there a chance you felt the same?

"You're blushing," he whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice. He let his hand linger on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles almost absentmindedly.

"How can I not when you touch me like this?" you responded breathlessly, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

Gojo's heart skipped a beat at your words, your sudden drunken response sending a shiver down his spine. He hadn't meant to affect you so much, but the sight of you so needy was an incredible feeling.

"I can't help it," he murmured, his thumb starting to trace the line of your jaw. "Your reactions are just too cute."

You felt like your heart was about to burst. He always looked so handsome, and you felt like an infatuated schoolgirl whenever he was around, whenever you two were alone. How immature of you; you were supposed to be working. But it was the best part of your day when you were tending to Gojo, which was far more often than you preferred. It also made you feel guilty. You didn't want him to get hurt, it was the last thing you ever wanted. You knew it wasn't normal for him to be touching you like this, for you to reciprocate in the same manner, as these actions crossed the boundary of just friends and coworkers. But maybe you were both more comfortable with this label, even if it pulled at your heartstrings. If Gojo had wanted you, he would have made that clear years ago, right?

Gojo was keenly aware of how you blushed and stuttered in his presence, filling him with a sense of satisfaction that he couldn't quite identify with. The power he had over you was intoxicating. But still, there was a part of him that wanted more, that wanted to cross the line you had set for yourselves.

As you sat there next to him, close enough for your thighs to touch, he found himself fighting the urge to reach out and pull you closer, to bury his face in your hair and breathe in your scent.

His compliment caused you to giggle slightly and glance away. But you didn't retreat from his embrace and only squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Will you tell me what's wrong?" you pressed again. "Why do you want me to distract you?"

Gojo's heart ached. He almost felt sick at how badly he wanted you to be his. But your insistence made it difficult to keep secrets, and refusing any of your requests felt impossible.

Still debating whether confessing was right, he hesitated momentarily before answering. "It's just... life," he finally said, his voice soft and low. "The weight of being the strongest. The pressure. The kids always looking up to me...It can be overwhelming sometimes."

"I'm sure it can be," you said, biting your lip slightly. "You often come here when you want a distraction." You glanced at the gauze and disinfection you had intended to use on his superficial wounds. "You pretend you're more hurt than you are physically. But you just want to vent to me, right?"

It was obvious, after all. Gojo could heal himself if he wanted to. You knew that, and so did everyone.

Gojo's shoulders sagged as he recognized the truth in your words. It was childish of him, possibly even cowardly. The pain he felt from battle was nothing compared to the ache in his heart whenever he was away from you.

He let out a sigh and nodded, his eyes meeting yours again. “You know me too well,” he said quietly. “But yes. I guess I just needed to talk to you. You make everything feel easier.”

"You should ask me to hang out with you more often," you chuckled. "I know we're both busy, but I can make time for you, Satoru. There's no need to pretend."

Gojo felt a pang of guilt at your words. You were right, he should have just asked you to hang out with him more often instead of resorting to these tactics.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice soft. "I shouldn't have used my injuries as an excuse. I just...like having you around."

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb rubbing your knuckles. "Can I ask you something?"

Frowning slightly, you wondered if he had misinterpreted your words by the expression on his face. You didn't want him to feel guilty at all, if anything, you found his visits endearing. He refused to see any doctor but you, which instilled pride in your work. It had become a joke between your coworkers and you, all betting on whether Gojo had a crush on you.

"You can ask me anything." You set your free hand on his knee. You wanted to touch more of him so badly, not under the guise of treating his minor scratches and bruises.

His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but relish the feeling of your touch. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for so long.

"Why... why are you always there for me? Why do you treat my wounds no matter how small? I mean... you have others to look at... but you always come to me." He looked at you, his heart thudding in his chest as he waited for your answer.

"I guess you caught me, too." You blushed, feeling bashful and somewhat embarrassed that he noticed your antics. "Maybe I want to spend whatever time I can with a busy man like yourself."

Gojo's heart fluttered as you admitted to caring for him just as much as he cared for you. He had hoped it was the case, but hearing you confirm it felt like a weight had lifted off his chest.

He chuckled softly, using both hands to hold your face, so incitingly that you didn't even think to pull away. "You know you don't have to use my injuries as an excuse to see me, right? I always want to spend time with you, no matter how busy I am."

His reply was enough for you. You understood what he meant in his repetition of your own words. It was in how he touched you, how his eyes sparkled with relief. Nervously, your eyes flickered down to his lips. He was so close, and what you craved was only one movement away. But no, you wouldn’t kiss him first. You needed to have more restraint than this. 

“Is this your way of saying you like me more than a friend?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Your question was answered in the way his breath caught in his throat, in the way his gaze trailed down to your lips and back up to your eyes. He was mesmerized by you, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

"Yes," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do. I yearn to be near you more often than I dare to admit, I tried to resist but I can't anymore."

Gojo's heart thundered in his chest as your eyes widened in response.

“I feel the same," you said, your admission causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"You... you do?" he murmured, tilting his face a little closer to yours. He wanted to be closer to you, to feel your skin against his; holding your hand wasn’t enough. 

Your eyes flickered to Gojo’s lips again, your stare begging and pleading. The need for something more was evident. “I do.”

Suddenly, he felt emboldened by your words, his own feelings mirrored in your body language.

Gojo's breath hitched as he noticed the palpable desire in your gaze. It was physically impossible to resist any longer.

Leaning in, he closed the distance between you, his lips hovering millimeters from yours. "Say it again," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“Fuck Satoru,” you practically whined, your eyes closing, lulled by his gentle touch and the inches that teased between you. “I love you, okay?"

Gojo felt a shudder run down his spine at the sound of his name on your lips, the desperation in your voice sending a wave of heat through him. You loved him.

With a low groan, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. His hand on your cheek gently tilted your head, allowing him to claim your lips hungrily.

Moaning into the kiss, you inhaled deeply, satisfied to finally taste him, to finally give in to your desires. One of your hands reached out and gripped his bicep, drawing him closer against your own body.

Gojo deepened the kiss further, a thrill shooting through him as he felt the heat of your body even through his clothes, and it fueled his need for more.

His tongue traced your bottom lip, demanding entry to your mouth, as his other hand trailed up your hip, grasping with need. A low moan escaped him as he tasted you, feeling you submit to his tune, his body responding to your touch like a taut bowstring.

You were on the verge of shuddering, desire pooling in that oh-so-dangerous spot, the part of you that might lose all sense of control and decency. Your feelings for Gojo were intense and had been for some time. You still couldn't believe this was happening. Anything he wanted from you was his to take. Anything to make him feel better. 

One of your hands rested against his neck while the other ran through his white locks, refusing to let him go, wanting him to touch you further. Nobody else was in the office, it was just the two of you. You were so starved of affection from the one you desired the most, that you would take any moment you could get.

Gojo seemed to realize at the same time, and he couldn’t control himself as he picked you up and brought you over to rest against your desk. With one hand, he swiped the belongings off and onto the floor, gently guiding you until you were on your back, legs wrapping tightly around his waist. 

Hungrily, he kissed you again; his own body was on fire as you giggled at his erratic, desperate movements as if he couldn't get enough. It was as if he wanted to worship every part of you now that you’d given him permission.  

"Y/N," he whispered against your mouth, his voice rough with need. "I want you. More than anything. I love you too."

"T-take me..." you whimpered, staring deep into his eyes as your lab coat fell loosely around your shoulders. To see him so desperate for you, the yearning of his tone and the affection in his glacier-blue eyes was all it took for your own restraint to fade away.

An almost primal hum of approval vibrated in his throat. "Right here?" he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "On the desk?" His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, his body pressing yours against the cold wood of the desk.

Nodding furiously at how hot this would be, you nodded to the door. "I don't want to wait any longer," you whispered seductively, reaching out to brush your delicate hands against the growing tent in Gojo's pants. "And I don't think you want to either."

Gojo let out a shaky breath at your coyness. His control was fraying quickly, and he knew this was a battle he was going to lose.

Nodding, he reached for the light switch, plunging the office into semi-darkness. He then moved to the door, locking it with a decisive click. When he turned back to you, his eyes were dark with desire.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmured, stalking back towards you. 

You spread your legs back apart, hooking them around his waist once he reached your awaiting embrace. Grasping his face, you pulled him back on top of you. "You made me wait too long for this," you teased, though still strained with a yearning he only noticed through subtle hints throughout the months, almost a year, that you’d known each other. It had been in your eyes, through quick glances, but never in your words.

Just the sound of your voice and the longing within it made him shudder. 

He pressed his bulge against your core, his hands sliding up under your shirt. "I wanted you this whole time," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you." His lips moved to the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point.

Sighing blissfully, your hands found their way back into his hair, holding him against you as if he would escape, as if this was only a dream. 

"What took you so long?" you mumbled, slightly dazed, then gasped as Gojo's fingers hooked the band of your bra. You shrugged off your lab coat, following his lead as he lifted your undershirt and bra over your head and tossing it behind him quickly before his hands reached for your breasts. The cold air swirled around your nipples and you bit down on your lip. It was shocking to finally be naked in front of the man you’d craved since the moment you met. "S-Should have made me yours a long time ago," you whispered, gazing up at him with a sudden shyness.

“Maybe I was too stupid and scared to realize before,” he practically groaned, immediately latching his mouth onto the swell of your breast, his other hand pawing gently at the other. With your nipple still pressed against his pretty pink lips, Gojo’s eyes gazed into your own. “How can I make it up to you?”

Your chuckle morphed into a moan as his tongue swirled around your chest, a devilish smirk upon his face, your reactions stimulating him further. 

“T-this is working….” you gasped, one hand steadying yourself against the desk while the other reached for his pants, beginning to tug them down. 

“I think you should be my girlfriend,” Gojo said somewhat nonchalantly as he broke away, curling his hands around your pants and shimming them down your legs. “That would make everything better-” he bent down between your spread legs and pressed his lips against your covered cunt, inhaling deeply. 

“Don’t you think?” he asked with glossy eyes and a heavy, lustful stare. “Not sure if I wanna share you.” 

“You can ask a bit more nicely…” you teased bashfully as he pulled your panties to the side. 

“Please, Y/N…. please please be my girlfriend, I promise it's worth it. I’ll give you the world, I’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever have before.” 

Though it was dim, you could see the smile on his face and sincerity in his eyes. It felt right, as it always had. 

“You promise?” Your whisper was desperate, not just for his body but also his heart. You didn’t just want him to give you the world; you wanted to share yours with him. 

His thumb ran over your protruding, bottom lip. “I promise, Y/N. I’m so in love with you, please let me show you.” 

“I love you too, Satoru.” 

And that’s when his tongue finally lapped against your slit, a groan of satisfaction vibrating against your core. How desperate he was, how sloppy, but it worked. It worked too well, and you were already coming undone from how gentle he was with your clit, the smooth circles edging you closer and closer, opening you up and preparing you for the utmost pleasure. How sexy you were, splayed across your own desk for him, just like the way you were in his dreams, when he would spend all night longing for your calming presence, fantasizing until he worked himself into an orgasm. 

You moaned and whimpered for him, because of him, and he felt his cock about to burst just from the sight of you, from tasting you.

And after your first orgasm, Gojo leaned forward and captured your lips with his, stifling your moans so only he could hear. His name upon your lips, begging for more, begging for all of him. 

Heavenly, you were, and it was all for him—something Gojo would have never predicted. Yes, he was skilled, and yes, he was the strongest, but you were the only person to ever make him feel alive. When he said he loved you, he meant it. 

And you allowed him to finally nestle his thick cock where it was desperate to go. 

“Satoru! Ahhh….” You threw your head back at the sensation, back arching within the same movement, unprepared for how thick and commanding he would be. You closed your eyes for a moment, only feeling, only touching, only relishing in him. Your mind was filled with his rapture, his passion, his love.

“S-so big,” you whimpered, gripping the edge of the desk in bewilderment, eyes squeezing shut from the intense pressure that filled and stretched you completely. "Fuck!" Was all you managed to sound between erratic moans, only wanting to feel him, latching onto his biceps for support, bodies pressing against the other in sync from the moment of consummation. Gojo sank into you until it was painful, until you were full of his twitching cock.

You were dripping, making it easy for him to thrust as slowly as he could, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for your command to take it even further.

“M-more…” you begged, not needing to repeat your demand before Gojo ravished you. Exhilarated by your moans, he gradually began to thrust harder, obsessed with how your body trembled, pleading for more, praying for all of him.

"Fuck Y/N, you're taking me so well." Gojo complimented in a strained voice. He was vocal, and you loved it, yet you couldn't find the time to reply between your cries of ecstasy, becoming increasingly crazed. You could almost sob at how vivifying it felt.

All this time, he wanted to be this close to you, and now that he was, he needed to immerse himself in your cries and whimpers, smell you, taste you, and be enveloped by you.

"Is this what you wanted from me this whole time?" he teased, and his voice was so electrifying that even though he was still thrusting while trapping you down, your back began to arch against the desk, flush against him.

Shivers jolted through your entire body as you nodded furiously. "Yes, Satoru, so bad-ah!"

The pounding came next, so deep inside you, feeling every inch of your walls, feeling every inch of your body. Gojo moaned loudly, caging you between his arms, angled perfectly and deeply. You couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes as he thrust into you over and over again. It was so passionate, and you were a mess. Your moans mixed in with his, and it was all-consuming, it was life-changing, it was love.

It was what you imagined and so much more.

"Feels so good!" you whimpered, feeling your abdomen flood with pressure again, tightening, burning.

Gojo felt you clench around him, your body shaking. Only a few minutes had passed, and he wanted to last longer, but he couldn’t. You were too pretty, you felt too good. “Fuck baby-” he moaned. “Gonna cum-” 

He pounded into you a few more times until you cried out, gushing around him so sweetly that it was hard to pull out, he didn't want to, but he did. 

With your chest rising and falling sharply, your legs shaking and twitching, Gojo released himself with a loud, strained moan. 

"Fuck! Fuck, I love you…” he exasperated, covering your abdomen with his seed.  It was euphoric, the best he’d ever had. He leaned forward over you, grasping onto the edge of your desk, his strength and the power of his orgasm caused him to snap the molding off, completely denting and splintering the corner of your desk.

“Satoru!” you gasped, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

“Shit….” He grit his teeth in embarrassment, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck before bending down and searching for the box of tissues he saw earlier. “I’ll buy you a new one I swear-” 

And then, you started laughing. “It was that good huh?” 

“The best,” he confirmed, cleaning you up the best he could so you could slide your clothes back on. His legs were still trembling, though, and shit, he needed more.

“I love you too.” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Good enough to make you come back home with me?” 

“I would say perfect,” you smirked as he looped his arm around your waist. "Now I just wonder how much money Shoko is going to make on Monday..."

"What ever do you mean?" he asked with a goofy, lopsided grin, as if he wasn't close friends with her and unaware of the situation.

"She bet that we would get together..."

"Aww," he chuckled, looping your purse over his shoulder. "I'll double it since she believed in me," he said before whisking you away to his apartment, where the two of you immediately started round two.

[daistea]

Alright so to answer your question, the reader is around their age but maybe slightly older than his brother, and would always reject Mithrun's advances because they think it's inappropriate

You said headcanons in the original request, I hope it’s okay that I added some writing as well! 

The name I give his brother is Arendil, totally stolen from another series with elves and kind of a cliche name, but it’s stuck with me and personally it would feel weird calling him anything else because that’s what I’m used to. 

This is a little more angsty than I expected it to be, tbh :/ Sorry if you don't like angst, I kinda just can't help but pick apart pre-dungeon Mithrun like this.

2700 words

No tw

Pre-Dungeon Mithrun x gn Reader 

●・○・●・○・●

Mithrun was probably a very good boy growing up. He tried so hard, he wanted everybody to like him, and he was a hardcore people pleaser. 

However, once he finds out that he’s the one born out of infidelity, the resentment starts to sink in. I like to think this happens when he’s in his early teens, when he actually takes a look at his family and starts to realize that he’s not truly the favorite. 

His parents treat him like he’s the favorite, and in a way they do prefer him over his brother, but in the end they’re always going to choose his brother because he’s the rightful heir and the oldest, and I think Elven culture would prioritize that more than personality. 

That probably becomes clear to Mithrun early on, just through little things. His sense of worth starts to crumble and he desperately grasps at any opportunity to be the one people prefer, which eventually turns him into the fake-nice, outwardly charming, judgmental, distrustful, bitter boy we know. 

Onto you. As a caretaker and important aspect of Mithrun’s life, he would crave your approval. I don’t think he’d be outwardly mean to servants and helpers, because despite their lower stations he would want them all to like him and think well of him. Since you’re especially close to him and Arendil, he would crave your attention even more. 

As you both get older, though, he starts noticing more about you…

I headcanon that Mithrun was pretty flirty at this point in life. He won’t open up or be vulnerable for anybody, but he will try to charm his way into your heart just to fulfill his own desire to be wanted.

Except… You don’t seem to want him. 

He first notices your rejection of his advances a year or two before he’s sent to join the Canaries.

You felt Mithrun’s eyes on your form. They were steady, intense, and held implications that you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge. You tried your best to ignore the feeling, but the hairs on the back of your neck still stood to attention, and your heart still clenched. 

Resisting the urge to comment on the situation grew more difficult the longer time passed. “Mithrun,” you sighed, “can I help you with something?”

He raised his brows and smiled pleasantly. His head was tilted, his fingers pressed into his cheekbone as he leaned against the table beside his chair. “Yes, actually, you can.”

You wanted to groan. Having basically grown up with Mithrun and his brother, you had the pass to be a little snarky with the boys. Yet the look in his eyes told you that now wasn’t the time. He would grab onto your sarcasm and use it like a rope to pull you forward, into him, into the trap he set. Mithrun’s games had only gotten more subtle with age. 

“I can’t imagine with what,” you said, keeping your voice level and disinterested, “the laundry is done, the manor is clean, and you’ve already eaten.”

Mithrun remained pleasantly unphased, “Do you really think that’s all I would need you for?”

“I don’t. However, there’s no other service I’m willing to offer.”

That was enough to break his demeanor, to shatter the glass he hid behind. His smile faltered for half a second and his shoulders tensed. “We’re friends, please don’t talk as if a caretaker is all you are.”

You knew that. Yet, at the moment, you were just a caretaker. You refused to be more to him— not out of dislike or a lack of attraction to the youngest Kerensil brother, but more because you were professional. It would be inappropriate to let yourself feel anything beyond what was platonic. 

He watched as you shifted uncomfortably. His brows furrowed, and you finally met his unyielding gaze. “We are friends, you’re right,” you said. 

Mithrun finally looked away. Relief flooded your chest as he chose to instead stare at the wall in thought. “I’ve known you all my life. You’ve never treated me lesser because of my biological father, or because I’m younger, or because I’m not the heir. You’ve always seen me and Arendil… equally.” Mithrun said the word ‘equally’ as if it was a bad thing. He only let his scowl last for half a second before he schooled his expression and continued, “You know I appreciate you, right?”

For once, he seemed genuine. You felt yourself melt a little. “I know.”

“You know, I…”

A pause for dramatic effect, of course, letting the anticipation rise so you would be appropriately charmed by his next words. You put up a hand to stop him, “I know you're just trying to get me to like you more than Arendil."

Mithrun’s eyes widened, “That’s not it.”

That was definitely it. 

“I know you. I know how you are,” you said as you turned around to continue folding laundry, an excuse to keep your nervous hands busy. 

Another pause followed your words. Then, “...You know me?”

You nodded. 

Mithrun allowed himself to frown. It was flattering, in a way, that he would let his true emotions show in front of you. 

He looked at you differently, then. There was no more charm in his stare, no more sparks of attraction. As you met his eyes, they widened slightly. His smile shook and his brows furrowed to create a little crease on his forehead. 

You realized it, then, that Mithrun was unnerved. 

Of course he was unnerved, he’d just realized you could see right through him. 

“Sorry,” you couldn’t help but apologize, though you knew you’d done nothing wrong, “I probably went too far with that comment.”

A beat of silence passed. Your hands lingered on the shirt you were folding, while Mithrun’s hands tightened as he crossed his arms over his chest, closing you off. 

Still, he seemed to prepare himself for the sliver of vulnerability that he was willing to offer. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re the only one who actually knows me.”

You had to resist the urge to say ‘well, who’s fault is that?’ 

Instead, you nodded, “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Truly?”

“Truly,” you echoed. 

Mithrun leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath. His chest rose and fell and he closed his eyes. A silver curl fell into his face as he tilted his head into his hand. He was letting the words sink in, the implication take root. 

All you could do was wonder what might come of this.

Mithrun falls in love slowly. He does not enjoy it. 

He goes through four of the seven stages of grief. 

Shock and denial: ‘I don’t see them in that way, their smile is just pretty and my heart only skips when they look at me because we’re friends.’

Pain and guilt: ‘I shouldn’t be feeling this way about them, they're my caretaker...’

Anger and bargaining: ‘Maybe if they weren’t so considerate and wonderful then I wouldn’t be feeling this way. How annoying. Perhaps I can convince them to choose me in the end, or at least get their attention on me.’ 

Depression: ‘They will never love me the way I love them…’

This elf is suffering. Nobody knows that, though, because he’s an expert at hiding it. 

But in the end, Mithrun shrugs it all off and decides that he wants you. 

When he sees you giving his brother attention, Mithrun feels the deep urge to rip out his brother’s throat. Then he chides himself for being so violent, the blood would make stains on the floor and you’d be angry with him…

Still, you treat them both equally. It drives him up a wall. You obviously don’t prefer his brother over him in any way, but that’s not good enough for Mithrun. He wants all of you. He wants every ounce of your love and care, with absolutely nothing left for Arendil to take, like he does with everything else. (Mithrun has very little self-awareness of how warped his view is at this point.)

Part of his desire for you stems from the need to possess, his insecurity, his desire to be loved, to be the favorite. However, beneath all of that, there’s more. Mithrun also appreciates and admires you as a person. You’re one of the few people that he trusts and can be himself around. You encourage him to be a better person— he doesn’t take that encouragement, but it’s still a nice quality of yours. 

And you make him feel important. How could he not fall in love with you?

Yet, he doesn’t quite comprehend the complexities of genuine love.

 “I think you should know that I’m—”

You clamped your hand over his mouth. It was like a door shutting in his face, barring him from treading down a dangerous path. His eyes widened and he leaned back to get away from you, but you kept your hand where it was. 

The grass beneath your knees was soft. The shade from the tree you and Mithrun sat under was pleasant. And the topic of conversation was horrifying. 

“Don’t,” you told him, “I know what you’re going to say and…”

And what? The words ‘it’s inappropriate’ sat on your tongue, but was that truly the only reason you stopped him? It was a good excuse, certainly, but the tangled knot of your relationship with Mithrun wasn’t ready to be unraveled quite yet. 

When he gave you a look that provided a slight bit of reassurance, you let him go. You sat back, folding your hands on your knees and meeting his silver gaze. His head was tilted down a little as he stared at you. His brain was working overtime, most likely churning out a myriad of thoughts like those factory lines in Dwarven cities. There was anger, betrayal, hurt, resentment, fear. You accepted each flash of emotion like a prisoner accepts the crack of a whip— which was begrudgingly, but with no choice in the matter. 

“I love you,” Mithrun whispered, despite it all. 

“I know,” was the only response you could give him. 

Yet, he had his shovel ready, willing to dig up this grave. “Why?”

“Why am I not returning your feelings?” You asked, though you already knew that was what he was asking. With a sigh, you absently twirled a blade of grass around your index finger, then continued, “Because I care about you, I really do. And I don’t want to ruin us.”

His expression hardened, “How would this ruin us?”

You looked up to meet his eyes once more, “You only want me because you want to be loved, and I’m the best candidate for that. You don’t want me for me, you want me for you.”

“How could you possibly know that?” He seethed. 

“Because I know you,” you murmured, “I know you far too well.”

Mithrun is determined to understand what you mean. However, he doesn’t really have anybody to ask for advice on that particular matter. 

He isn’t one to settle unless necessary. But it’s starting to feel necessary, with how often you stop him from confessing, with how you avoid his touch, with how you won’t hold his gaze most of the time. 

Mithrun is going mad. 

He doesn't particularly care about the girl his brother likes, since his mind is on you, but it's offensive to him that his brother thinks he has a chance with such a cute and refined girl.

It does please Mithrun, though, that Arendil is not interested in you. That makes things easier and slightly calms his boiling blood. 

However, the fact that someone actually likes Arendil back drives him a bit mad too. 

You call him out on this, saying that he’s like a toddler who only wants a certain toy when another kid is playing with it. He chooses to ignore that comparison. 

He still very much has feelings for you. He does whatever you ask, though you never ask for anything, really. If you mention that you like a certain item, he’ll get it for you. If you mention that you want to see a certain play, he suddenly has two tickets to it. 

He is doing his best to court you and you know it, his parents know it, everybody knows it. 

You try to sway him away from doing these things. It’s not proper for him to act like that. He agrees, with his desire to keep a good reputation amongst the nobility and his peers. However, that doesn’t stop him from trying to win you over in secret. (Which doesn’t actually help his case much, because you can’t help but think ‘he’s ashamed of having feelings for a servant. wow.’)

At this point in life, Mithrun does genuinely like people and can be truly cheerful and kind. He’s a social butterfly and enjoys chatting. You allow these interactions, spending hours just talking with him. It’s so easy, it’s so comfortable. Those moments are when you’re closest to being pulled into his path; when his gravity threatens to steal you, a passing comet, and hold you hostage in his orbit.

And sometimes you wonder what it would be like to give in. 

Mithrun knows you wonder that, though, because he knows you just as well as you know him. And he uses that to his advantage, of course. 

He shamelessly flirts when you’re alone together. He’ll brush your hair out of your face and let the tips of his fingers gently caress the edges of your ear. And when you shiver despite your best attempts not to, he only smiles. He knows when he's winning.

He would whisper to you a lot. He likes people-watching and has a lot to say. He can be a total Regina George when he wants to. 

But really, he does like people, he just can’t help but be distrusting and judgmental. His entire self is a result of elven society mixed with subtle emotional neglect. 

Somehow, Mithrun has both an inferiority complex and a superiority complex. It just depends on the situation. 

He’s very jealous. And he gets clingy when he’s jealous, especially if you’re paying attention to his brother. He’ll swoop in, put his hand on your back, start flirting with you, etc. I headcanon that his brother is incredibly oblivious, but kind, and just thinks to himself ‘wow I’m so happy my little brother has found love : )’

You’re not together though. You slip away from his touch often. You ignore his flirting. You maintain your dignity and position. 

Except for when his family receives the letter about the Canaries recruitment. And they announce that they’re sending Mithrun. They give this speech about how he’s bringing honor to the House of Kerensil by fighting the evil that exists in this world… Mithrun knows it's a load of crap. His parents are sending him to his death. 

It’s the biggest proof that he’s not their favorite, that he’ll never be their favorite. No matter how much they talk up his charm and looks, he’s still the bastard son. He’s a trinket on their shelf, but if they need to make room they won’t hesitate to store him in a dusty box in the basement. 

And his brother gets to live; sweet and innocent and ignorant, undeserving of all that he gets. Mithrun hates the air he breathes. 

And when he’s about to leave for the Canaries, you finally admit it. You admit that you love him. And…

His bitterness only grows. If he wasn’t sent to the Canaries… If he was the first born, the heir, the one that was wanted…

In the dungeon, he sees how his brother gets the girl. The girl doesn’t matter, it’s what that image represents that angers him. It’s what his world looks like now; he’s a slave to the government sponsored death squad, and his brother is getting all he’s ever wanted. 

And then there’s you. You love him, but can you be together? No. 

With mirror shards on the floor and the soft clop of hooves, Mithrun's life changes entirely.

[monayen]

you said something about Nyon being one of the better head givers ... what about the rest of them ;3 ? maybe rank them PLZZZ - 🦋

Pussy Eatin' Headcannons (lol)

➷ Paring - Multi x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - explicit afab reader, oral (f. recieving) / cunnilingus, biting / marking, fingering

a/n - oh this is everything to me thank you for this ask. also throwing in the ratmen and satoru because i errr uhh CAN DO WHAT I WANT. i actually had a bit of a hard time ranking them specifically as i feel like #6-4 can be interchangeable if you think hard enough. but this is about eatin' pussy so have ur own thoughts frens

(from worst to best)

Tied for last place: Ratmen 3-5

These guys likely wouldn’t even know what to do with a pussy in their face

They’re used to rushed quickies, as they’re always afraid of being caught

Way too fast and sloppy when eating you out, leaves a mess of your own wetness all on their faces

It won’t be all that satisfying, so don’t expect to cum anytime soon. Because of that, they'll probably tap out after a while

They definitely prefer receiving head over giving it—after all, they’ll finish much faster than you. A shame, really

8. Micheal Jr

Like Ratmen 3-5, he lacks the time and experience to properly eat you out. The only reason he ranks higher is his sheer enthusiasm to do so

He wants you to squeeze your thighs around his face and tug his hair

Still messy and too quick, but with the right training and time, he might actually be decent at it. But that won't ever happen

7. Nyen

Rarely gives you oral which automatically puts him at a low spot

Which might be for the best, considering he ends up using too much teeth most of the time. Like he has literally bitten your clit before :(

His hands will also dig painfully into your hips and sides when he grasps onto you, which could make it hard to focus on the already sorta uncomfortable head

Definitely prefers fucking your throat and he’s clear about that

6. Randal

The neediest head you’ll ever receive. Laps you up like a dog and leaves you a sweaty, sticky mess

Loves come swallowing and is determined to lick up every last drop of wetness that leaks out of you

The 69 position is a must for him. Fucking your face while his tongue curls inside of you? The best (aside from actually fucking you)

"Head for head?” is something that unironically leaves his mouth way too often

Genuinely cannot get enough of it. Tires you out and still will stretch out his tongue for another round

Enough that it can actually be exhausting to deal with his constant need for your pussy to be in his face

Also bites, duh

5. Sebastian

Reluctant at first, wouldn't have ever propositioned if you didn't

Not because he thought it was gross or weird, just nervous to perform poorly and make a fool of himself

His inexperience makes him a bit awkward and clumsy, but his earnest desire to please you makes up for his lack of skill

Actually not bad at all when he gets into it though. Let his nerves settle and he’ll eat it like he's starving (which he is)

Likes for you to sit on his face and grind against him. Listen to his shaky whimpers against your flesh as he struggles to breathe properly. Don’t worry, he likes it!

4. Robert

Doesn't have an exact preference for giving or receiving, so a nice plus!

Again, he just has the similar problem the rest of the ratmen have: lack of time / opportunity

Though inexperienced, he’s much neater and more patient than his ratmen counterparts—not that it’s saying much, but it’s still an improvement

Has a tendency to nibble and gnaw at your skin, can get a bit too enthusiastic about it sometimes (ouch!)

Give him multiple tries to learn where the clit is, how to combo his tongue and fingers, and how to find a proper rhythm and I think he’ll do quite well :)

3. Satoru

Similar to Randal in how he loves to eat you out. Practically lives for it

He wants to try every single position possible (which is more than you think) and learn all the things that make your thighs shake

Never stops talking, even with his mouth full—mumbles against you, breathless words garbling out as he showers you with praise. He just can’t help it, you taste too good to stay quiet!

Again, can end up being a bit too much to handle if you're sensitive

A lot more accommodating than Randal though, if you need a break, he'll let you. It can be tiring to be folded with your legs in the air as he sucks on your overstimulated clit. You sweet thing ^^

2. Luther

Very delicate. Almost far too careful, treating you like a five course meal

Every part of you is so precious to him so he makes sure his long fingers and sharp teeth won't ever hurt you

His tongue likes to move in slow, deliberate strokes, thumb rhythmically rubbing against your clit as firm hands grip along your inner thigh

His ability to focus on a specific task means he’ll be down there for a while, so just keep your legs steady on his shoulders, pet ♡

1. Nyon

Gives the best head.

Doesn't complain, doesn't wait for you to initiate, isn't too fast or slow, knows all the right spots and patterns

He picks up on what you like quickly. Incredibly attentive to your tastes, loves to see you melt and moan when he eats you out just right

Secretly prides himself on making you come just from his mouth. Why shouldn't he? He tries very hard for you, Родная<3

Gets so much satisfaction from giving. Fully devoted to making you feel good until you’re completely spent

He doesn’t tend to ask for anything in return, content enough with just settling his face between your thighs. Ignore that wet spot on his crotch… you just get him so excited when you tug at his hair!