#this is one of my favorite builds of all time and i miss it so much. unfortunately the sims fried my graphics card that one time

[mayasaurusss]

hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻

My favorite piltie

A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.

I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!

Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.

2,8 K/4 pages

When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.

The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.

"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.

You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.

You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.

She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.

"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.

"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...

"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".

Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.

"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".

A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.

You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.

But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.

It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".

Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".

And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.

"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.

Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".

"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".

She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".

The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".

"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.

"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.

She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.

She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".

"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.

You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"

[millieisawriter]

Workin' girl

arthur morgan x reader

summary: the one where arthur pulls a john — falling in love with a working girl. it was never supposed to happen, yet it did, and now arthur is left with two choices. either he, again, walks away from a woman that loves him, or tries to fight for her.

wc: 2k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

a/n: i see this happening in blackwater in case i decide to write a 2nd part, but when i started writing i imagined saint denis, didn't see any town/city names mentioned as i was proof-reading, lmk if you see something i missed <3

Life has never treated you kindly so eventually, as soon as you could leave your family home, you turned to the oldest profession in the world. Even if that kind of life was better, it still wasn't ideal, but it was the best you could do. Eventually, you started to like it because even with its issues and dark sides it wasn't that terrible. Some would even dare saying it was 'easy money', which you actually knew wasn't true.

Luckily for you, you ended up in one of the more expensive brothels. Maybe it was the 'splendor' of the place, the luxorious interior, that made you feel somewhat safe. Safer than you would feel in some cheap saloon where the patrons consisted of drifters with a questionable past.

You had your regular patrons, ones that you got along with well — one of the reasons why they were your regulars. These were the men that could stay a bit longer after the service itself was done without making it awkward. Ones that you could have a conversation with, ones that saw you as another human being, not just an item to relieve their frustration.

It was a normal evening, the building was neither empty nor full. You didn't have that much on your hands, you and a fellow working girl were entertaining a group of men. They sat by a table, a drink in one hand, a cigar in the other, and two of these men had a companion in their lap — you and your friend. Ending the evening in the bedroom wasn't certain, for now you were just trying to make them spend as much money as possible on the drinks.

Then, Arthur walked in. One of your regulars, one you were particularly fond of. The chemistry between the two of you was so strong sometimes you wanted to tell him he didn't have to pay.

His eyes immediately found you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous seeing you in the man's lap. But you, as if on command, turned to look at Arthur and as you noticed your favorite patron, you excused yourself from the table.

"Mister Callahan," you beamed, approaching the man, "so good to see you again."

He tipped his hat to you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Evenin' darlin', thought I'd stop by again. You been keepin' busy?"

The way he always called you darling, every time, made you feel so warm and bubbly. Of course, he wasn't the first man to do that, but when it came from him, it felt almost sincere.

"Busy enough," you replied, glancing over your shoulder at the table of men you just left, "but I'll always make time for you, mister."

"Well, reckon I'll take you up on that. How bout we find a quiet spot?"

"Your wish is my command." Giggling, you took Arthur by the hand to lead him upstairs where your room was. Even if he already knew the way well enough.

Your room was just like any other room in that brothel — furnished with the most luxorious-looking furniture, tastefully decorated with expensive ornaments, every little detail taken care of.

As the door to your room clicked shut behind you, the world outside seemed to fade miles away. In that moment right there it were just the two of us, bathed in the dim light by the fireplace's glow.

Arthur's hat found its usual place on the small table by the door and he turned to face you, "I can never stay away for too long." Shortly, his hands landed on your waist, resting on the corset of your dress.

"Then maybe you should visit more often..." You suggested, your own hands finding their way to the man's shoulders.

"I'm afraid it ain't a good idea, darlin'. I always look forward to seein' you. But sayin' goodbye..."

"I get what you mean," you chuckled, "so what's it gonna be today? Just the regular service, or you want something extra? It'll be on the house."

Every time Arthur visited you, it was both blissfull and painful for him. You were so good at what you were doing it felt like a religious experience, but the attachment he held for you left a hole in his heart each time he had to say goodbye.

He had always wished he could just ask you to leave this life, and join the gang, but which woman would agree for this? Your current life, your current job, as oppressing as it was, couldn't be worse than living on the run. In Arthur's eyes at least.

In the brothel you had your own room, a wardrobe with many dresses. You had a somehow stable income, it didn't seem as if money were any issue to you. All this, compared to what you could have in the camp, was much worse. And you didn't even know his real last name, there was no reason for you to leave this life you had for a criminal.

Why did Arthur even fall for a working girl? The exact same thing happened to John, which Arthur would often make fun of him for. Maybe life just decided to pull a joke on Arthur now. But he just couldn't control himself, from the first time he saw you, you were different. With other women it didn't take long to notice they're just playing a role, but you... from the first time you even smiled at Arthur, he was drawn to how genuine it looked. And now, you had become not just a pretty face to entertain him, but someone he felt at ease with.

This time, as many times before, Arthur didn't hurry to get dressed and leave the room, return back to camp after getting what he wanted. Instead, he stayed under the covers in your bed, smoking a cigarette as you kept going on about something that happened a few days ago.

He didn't mind, he could let you yap his ears off, your voice was such a calming sound. It was almost hard to believe you weren't just a hallucination he made up. How could such an ethereal being just lay there, next to him, head propped propped on your palm as you lay on your stomach, talking about whatever nonsense? How could this happen to a man like Arthur Morgan?

"...so then," you paused to take the cigarette from Arthur, take one puff and hand it right back, "you'd think a man like him would have some sense, right? Well, no, he was so damn thick in the head, she just told the guard to throw him out!"

Arthur chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Bet he didn't see that comin'. I'm glad I ain't made it onto your list of thick-headed fools yet."

"Yet!" You playfully reminded him. "You seem to have more sense than others, although I can't say I'm some weak little girl. I don't even need a guard, but the madam insists it's for safety."

A thought lingered in the back of Arthur's mind. It was weird, in a sense, to know there's a guard right outside your door whenever you had a man up there. Even right then.

"I don't doubt you could handle yourself, darlin'," Arthur smirked, taking one last drag from his cigarette, "but it don't hurt havin' someone lookin' out for you."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Guess you're right, mister."

Arthur stubbed out the ciragette into the ashtray that stood on the bedside table, knowing what it meant. His time was up, he extended the time of his visit as long as he could. Now that his usual cigarette was finished, it was the time for him to go.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. You watched as he reached for his clothes that had been thrown onto the floor, and for the first time a single tear started to burn the corner of your eye.

With his jeans already on, and his shirt for now unbuttoned, he reached to the pocket, retrieving the usual payment. You wiped the tear away as it escaped your eye. It was always the same routine, but it didn't make it any easier to watch him go.

"Here it is." He said almost robotically, placing the money next to the ashtray, throwing in a little tip.

You looked at the money with sadness in your gaze, then your eyes shifted to look at the man. "You know, you shouldn't have to pay, because you don't make it feel like work."

There they were, the words Arthur was so afraid to hear. Him having a more romantic kind of attachment to you was one thing. However, knowing that you reciprocated the feeling, made it more difficult.

"Good," he nodded, "cause you don't make me feel like the bastard I am," as he buttoned up his shirt.

You sat up on the bed, pulling the sheets harder around you, since you were still naked. "Arthur..." You sighed, the rest of the sentence dying in your throat.

The fact that for the first time you had used his actual name instead of calling him mister as always, made it only more difficult.

"No, darlin', don't."

"You know you don't have to leave, right?"

Oh, he had to leave. If he overstayed his welcome too much, the guard at your door would become highly suspicious. And that would only cause issues for you.

"I have to, don't wanna make it harder." Arthur replied.

"Harder for who? I know a man's nature well enough, and I can tell there's something more in the— the way you fuck me, Arthur."

He thought maybe playing dumb would help him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you were to ask me to... to abandon this life for you... I would."

Arthur gulped. It was just what he wished for, but what he couldn't allow to happen. "I've got nothin' to give you. I live on the run, it ain't somethin' you wanna be a part of, trust me."

"You think I'd rather keep fucking strangers to survive, than travel the world with a man I lo—"

"You don't." Arthur interrupted you. "You don't know what you're talkin' bout." Love was a word of huge weight, there was no way it was what you felt for him.

You insisted. "I know what I feel, and I know what you feel, I see it in your eyes, I feel it when you're in my bed, Arthur. I wanna leave this life for you."

"It ain't gonna be no escape, though, just another kind of trap. You deserve better than fuckin' strangers to get by, but you also deserve better than runnin' and not knowin' which day will be your last."

"I don't want better!" At that point you didn't care if the guard outside will hear. "I want you, Arthur!"

"I want you too, darlin'," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly, "but... you're safer here. I can't sentence you to a life of an eternal wanderin'."

His words had a final tone, but as well as you could read his eyes, you could tell he regrets saying what he had just said. You could have had a roof over your head, and locks in your door, but it wasn't safety. It was survival.

You stepped closer, reaching out to grab Arthur's hand. You knew he didn't want to leave, you were sure he wants you just like you wanted him. "Arthur..."

His heart ached when he saw the way your beautiful eyes looked at him, but still he decided to kiss you. It only made it worse, making another cut in Arthur's already damaged heart.

"I gotta go." He stated, freeing his hand from yours.

"No." You refused as if you had any say in that matter. You could demand he takes you with him now, wherever he's headed, but what would it do?

"I can't make promises," he continued, putting his boots and jacket on, then his hat, "but I'll figure somethin' out."

You stayed silent, watching him leave the room, not knowing if he's going to keep his word. All you had now was the money, that you didn't even want from him, and the promise that could have been empty.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5])

It's episode 4 If I Can't Reach You / Let My Song Teach You, time for two of my favorite things: glam rock and homosexuals. which are basically the same thing if you think about it.

she's like damn, billy, that was ruthless. honestly this is going to make her care about billy even more, not only he's powerful, not only he reminds her of nicky. now he's a murderer too?? perfect son is perfect. I love how she's studying sharon's body with her detective Agnes face, her mind is going a million miles a minute

her third-wall-break winks destroy me. and that poor hairdo. all gone expect for the giant turd on top.

alice being truly and genuinely sorry about sharon. lilia and jen being gossiping hags

agatha honey you're so dainty and feminine, look at you. and that's an interesting and not at all painful tree shape you picked. (I would have never noticed any of this without brightening the scene, it's outrageous. everyone involved in this show is amazing except the lighting department. shame on you lighting department)

whatever alice does openly and sincerely, agatha does secretly or as a joke. parallels, parallels

jen is like, can you believe this bitch

without being asked, alice goes to help digging the grave

that is the idiot I fell in love with and I'm way past regretting my choices at this point!! I know how rio feels now

"coven two" is one of those lines that make you laugh on first view and shred your heart in a million tiny pieces at every following rewatch. this show HAS to be watched at least twice, don't ever trust reviews or complaints by ppl who didn't, because they missed at least half of what makes it great.

a clown running from the tragic truth that her son wrote the Ballad, making sad clown noises all over the Road

when alice is called to referee as the Resident Ballad Expert and agatha looks at her expectantly hands in pockets, somehow extremely obnoxious, extremely gay and extremely sad at the same time

alice is SO above bickering. jen is being a baby because she's mad at agatha, lilia is being a baby cause she's grumpy and a contrarian, billy is sixteen, agatha is, well, agatha. alice is the only adult in the building

just one, huh? that's fine. that's fine. who needs a heart anyway.

the common gypsophila or baby's breath symbolizes sincerity, purity, innocence. does it symbolizes sharon? or is billy leaving it on her grave a metaphor for his naivety and good intentions gone wrong?

billy's romantic ideals of what it means to be in a coven have just been shattered. he set out, consciously or not, to teach something to these witches and of course it didn't work. he is the one who needs guidance, he is the one who's making a mess of things. he's just a kid.

agatha going !! when billy says he wishes he could go home. agatha covertly pointing out that he has a replacement body and she would really like to know how. she's observing him so closely, trying to puzzle out the mystery. exactly like she did with wanda inside the Hex. not revealing her cards just yet, testing and manipulating him. when that strategy blew up in her face so spectacularly the first time! she's so smart and so reckless it makes her practically an idiot

case in point: she's making up stupid rules trying to manipulate billy into shaping the Road the way she wants. that's right, agatha. let's summon another poor victim you can siphon, wonder who's gonna show up! (and she KNEW sharon was laying dead ten feet away and SOMEONE was bound to be in the neighborhood. dumbass.)

aww he's so proud of himself for having brought the spellbook. he's being helpful! he's made his four moms happy!

check, debatable, check

debatable and debatable

I'm gonna give that one a BIG check

yes I know advil spells "vidal", thank you tumblr for letting me know that one. also same, alice.

'esse viridis non es facile' IT'S NOT EASY BEING GREEN?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! oh I knew my high school latin was bound to come in handy at least once in my life

(by the way the set + costumes combo is giving me such hocus pocus vibes, but you could never tell because the SCENE IS SO FUCKING DARK) (NO I WON'T SHUT UP ABOUT IT)

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH

I mean girls, you chose to follow the head clown, you have to travel in the clown car. that's on you.

WHY IS THE PRINT SO SMALL???? I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

admit it we all wished it was sharon for a moment

oh?? is that mayhaps someone you know, agatha???

and that's a wrap, see you guys tomorrow!

no, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm doing another one tonight. I need to shove all the rio scenes in my eyeballs NOW

go to episode 4 part 2

[nausicaamusiclover20]

I had this fantasy all day and I couldn't help but write it down

Paring: !ProfessorxStudent!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Explicit Content, Mature Themes,Sexual Content, mature language, Age Gap (15-year difference) Power Imbalance, Adult Themes

Playing with fire

The university had become my second home, and I loved every minute of it. The quiet spaces for studying, the hustle of students on the move, and the occasional moments of clarity when everything just clicked. It was all thrilling—except for one thing: Professor James Hetfield,the Professor, who despite the 15-year difference, I was attracted to.

He was a constant presence. Not just in the classroom, but in my thoughts. Every class, every interaction with him felt charged. He never showed favoritism, not even toward the brilliant students like me, but I couldn’t help the way his cold blue eyes always seemed to find me, to watch me. Every lecture, every question he posed, there was something about the way he looked at me—intense, almost as if he could see through the mask I wore.

The lectures were always intense, filled with complex material that many of the students struggled to understand. But for me, it was all too easy. I was always ahead of the curve, always absorbing the material faster than most. Yet, the more I proved myself, the more I felt his gaze upon me, even if he never admitted it. And somehow, it made everything even more exciting.

When the day of the final exam arrived, the weight of it felt suffocating. It wasn’t just the usual pressure of exams—it was the pressure of having to live up to the quiet challenge I had set for myself. There was something about impressing Professor Hetfield that made every question feel like a test of my worth, something that wasn’t just about getting the answers right but about making him acknowledge me in a way he had never acknowledged anyone else.

The room was filled with students, the air thick with the sounds of papers shuffling and anxious whispers. But I felt calm. Focused. As I looked around the room, I saw them all sweating, struggling over the hardest questions. But my mind was clear—methodical. I answered each question with ease, my pen flying across the page as if the answers were written in my blood. It was exhilarating to feel so confident, so ahead of the game.

It didn’t take long for me to finish. I was the first one done, though I didn’t want to leave yet. The tension between Professor Hetfield and I was like a live wire, and I wasn’t ready to break that connection just yet.

I stood, glancing briefly around the room. The other students were still scribbling away, oblivious to the fact that I was already finished. Without hesitation, I walked up to the front of the room and placed my paper gently on his desk.

Professor Hetfield was seated, marking papers with his usual cool, detached demeanor. His blue eyes flickered up to meet mine for a split second before returning to the paper in front of him. I took a seat in the front row, my hands resting on my lap, trying to keep my composure. As I sat, I felt the anticipation building in my chest. Did I make a mistake? I thought to myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I had doubted myself, but in that moment, uncertainty crept in.

What if I had missed something? What if he saw something wrong in my answers, something I had overlooked? His sharp eyes could spot even the smallest mistake, and that thought gnawed at me. I watched as he methodically went through the other papers, his eyes scanning each answer with cold precision. But when he reached my paper, he paused.

My stomach clenched.

His gaze lingered on my exam, studying it with the same cold attention he always gave everything. I couldn’t read him. Did I mess up? Was there something he had spotted in my work that I hadn’t seen? His pen stopped moving for a moment, then continued with a quick, decisive motion. I felt the silence stretching between us, my pulse quickening.

Professor Hetfield finally placed the pen down, his gaze rising to meet mine. I sat up straighter, trying to read him, but his face was unreadable.

“You finished already?” His voice was the usual low, gravelly tone, but there was something different about it today—something softer, almost impressive. “You didn’t take long.”

I swallowed, trying to maintain a cool facade. “No, I didn’t,” I replied, not trusting my voice to sound steady. He must have seen something wrong, I thought. It’s too quiet.

He looked at me for a moment longer, his eyes piercing through the calm surface of my thoughts. Was he really going to say anything?

I started to second-guess myself, wondering if he was silently critiquing every little thing in my paper. The questions were challenging, after all. But no, I told myself. I nailed it.

“Impressive,” he finally said, his voice clipped. But there was something else in it—a faint admiration buried beneath his usual coolness. “You’ve done well.”

I couldn’t help the small breath that escaped my lips. Was that... a compliment?

His blue eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than usual, a quiet intensity simmering beneath the surface. “Perfect,” he added, almost as an afterthought. His gaze softened, but just barely. “Good work, Miss Y/N.”

I felt a strange warmth spread through me. I had expected more formality, more distance, but there was something about the way he said those words that felt different, more personal. I tried to keep my composure, but my heart was beating harder now.

As the class began to file out, I remained seated for a moment, my fingers lightly brushing over the edges of my papers as I adjusted them, feeling a slight tremor in my hands. I wasn’t sure if I was still processing his words or the intensity of the moment. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave, or if I wanted him to say something more—anything, really.

But he didn’t. His attention moved back to the papers on his desk, the cold, professional mask returning. But I knew what had just passed between us. The tension still hung in the air, thick and undeniable. I could almost taste it. I shifted in my seat, feeling the weight of the silence pressing against me.

The room had emptied, leaving just the two of us in this quiet space. My mind raced, trying to make sense of everything. Was he still aware of me? Even as his gaze never fully met mine again, there was something about the way he’d looked at me that made me feel as if we were still connected, even in that silence.

As I stood, I moved to adjust my backpack over my shoulder, trying to regain some normalcy. My fingers fumbled slightly as I pulled it on, my thoughts still tangled. I could feel his eyes on me once more, even though he wasn’t directly looking. It was as if he was aware of my every movement.

Just as I reached the door, I heard his voice—low, commanding, sending a jolt through me.

“You did a good job, Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice a smooth draw. “Always impeccable.”

The words struck me like a spark in the quiet room, and my breath caught. I froze for a moment, feeling the weight of his praise and the underlying intensity behind it. My cheeks flushed a deep crimson, warmth flooding my face as I quickly turned my head, trying to mask the sudden rush of heat.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice softer than usual, betraying the sudden rush of emotions swirling inside me.

Without another word, I stepped out into the hall, my pulse pounding in my ears. The game had changed. And as much as I tried to tell myself it was just another day, I knew deep down that something had shifted between us.

I had to admit, the thought had been nagging at me for days. Was I just another student to him? Did he really see me only as that? Or was there something more behind the way he kept glancing at me in class, his eyes lingering a fraction longer than they should have? It was maddening to think about, and I couldn’t stop the curiosity from eating away at me.

The game was fun—no doubt about it—but I needed answers.

So I decided to test it again. This time, I was going to make sure the Professor couldn’t ignore me, and if he did, then that would prove everything I needed to know.

The idea had been swirling in my head for days now, gnawing at me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between him  and me. He was always so composed, always so in control, but when our eyes met, there was something there. Something I couldn’t explain. 

As I settled into my seat, I tried to act casual, pulling out my notebook and pretending to be absorbed in my notes, but my heart was pounding. I could feel his presence at the front of the room, but I kept my eyes trained on the page, waiting for the inevitable.

The room began to fill up as other students entered, taking their seats. He stood at the front, greeting a few students, his voice low and steady as always. But my mind was elsewhere—on him. I couldn’t help but glance up occasionally, but I didn’t want to make it too obvious.

Class began, and he fell into his usual rhythm. His voice was calm, steady, and clear, filling the room with his authoritative presence. I let my mind wander, knowing the moment I had been waiting for would come soon enough.

I noticed his eyes sweeping over the room as he began his lecture, but they didn’t land on me right away. Instead, they passed over my usual seat, scanning the rows of students. For a moment, I wondered if he’d even noticed the change, but I stayed still, pretending to pay attention to the lecture.

Minutes passed, and still, his gaze didn’t linger on me. I almost started to second-guess myself. Maybe he hadn’t noticed. Maybe it wasn’t as obvious as I thought.

But then—

I caught a subtle shift in his movements. His eyes flicked back to the room, scanning again. They moved from one student to the next, and then—It was like a switch had been flipped. His gaze landed on me.

It wasn’t immediate. At first, I thought I imagined it, but then his eyes stayed fixed on me, no longer scanning the room in a casual manner. For a moment, I could see the slight hesitation in his expression, like he was piecing something together. His eyes narrowed slightly as if searching for the right words, trying to figure out why I wasn’t where I usually sat. I felt a thrill of excitement surge through me. He had noticed. It took him a while, but he had noticed.

I didn’t move, pretending to be absorbed in my notes, my heart racing in my chest. My breath caught, and I couldn’t help but glance up again. This time, our eyes met—his deep, piercing blue eyes locking onto mine.

I saw something in them that hadn’t been there before—a flicker of recognition, of something more than just the usual professor-pupil dynamic. It was brief, but it was enough. He quickly broke the gaze, his expression stiffening as if he were trying to regain his usual composure.

But I knew. I knew he saw me now. 

My mind raced, but I kept my expression neutral. I didn’t want to give away that I knew exactly what had just happened. The rest of the lecture passed in a blur, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment—the way his gaze had lingered on me, the way his eyes had found me in the back of the room.

 Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. The students began filing out, and I stood slowly, packing my things. I kept my movements deliberate, as though I had all the time in the world, but my pulse was racing. I glanced around the room to see if anyone else noticed, but most students were too busy gathering their things and heading toward the door.

I walked out with the others, trying to keep my face neutral, but a smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. As I made my way down the hall, the satisfaction of what had just happened settled over me.  Professor Hetfield had noticed me—really noticed me. The way his gaze had locked onto mine, the brief hesitation in his usual calm demeanor—it was all the confirmation I needed.

I smirked to myself as I walked down the hallway, knowing that the game had changed. He had watched me, and now he knew. I had made my point. 

As the students filed out, I made my way over to Professor Hammett, who was talking to a couple of people by the door. He was always easy to talk to, and today, I had the perfect excuse to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, Professor Hammett!” I said, casually walking up.

“Y/N!” he greeted, his usual easy grin spreading across his face. “What’s up? You’re looking way too cheerful for someone who just survived a lecture with Hetfield.”

I laughed, adjusting my bag. “Oh, you know, I’m just doing great in class. But I was thinking about that old horror flick I watched last night—The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I love how gritty and real it feels.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of the movie. “Ah, classic! That whole atmosphere, the suspense… It’s one of those films that gets under your skin. How about The Shining? Now that one’s pure psychological horror.”

I smiled, getting into the conversation. “For sure. It’s all about that tension, right? You don’t need to see the monster to feel the terror. It’s all in the build-up.”

He leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know what? We should have a movie marathon. Old-school stuff. What do you think?”

“I’d be down for that,” I replied, enjoying the easy banter. But as we were talking, I caught the glint of familiar cold blue eyes across the hall—Professor Hetfield. He was standing with a few students, but his gaze was locked on me. I quickly turned back to Professor Hammett, but the tension in the air was undeniable.

As I continued the conversation with him, I noticed the professor step closer, his usual reserved demeanor barely concealing the sharp focus in his eyes. He greeted Kirk briefly, then turned his attention to me.

“Afternoon,  Miss Y/N,” he said, his voice low and almost a little too casual. But there was something there—something in the way his eyes lingered on me just a little too long.

“Good afternoon, Professor Hetfield,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light, but inside, my heart was racing. I couldn’t help but feel the shift in the air between us. It was like the silent tension from the horror movies we’d just discussed—unspoken, but thick.

Kirk smiled and stepped back slightly. “I’ll leave you two to chat. Catch you later, Y/N.”

“See you, Professor” I said, my smile still in place, but I could feel the subtle power shift now that it was just Professor Hetfield and me. As Kirk walked off, he moved a little closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I see you’ve been talking to Kirk,” he said, his tone still polite, but there was an edge to it now. The subtle jealousy was unmistakable. I could practically feel the heat radiating off him as he gave a small nod in Kirk’s direction.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “Just talking about old horror movies, the classics.” I gave him a small, teasing smile. “What’s your take on them, Professor? Or are you too serious for something like that?”

He stared at me for a moment, then gave a tight smile. “I think I’m more interested in your take on them, Miss Y/N. You seem to have a particular passion for these films. Maybe you can give me some recommendations.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, I’ve got plenty. You’re missing out on some of the best stuff. I’ll make you a list,” I said, my voice light but purposeful. The more I pushed him, the more I saw the barely-contained frustration in his eyes. Before I could say anything more, Professor Hetfield quickly glanced away, as if pulling himself back from the moment. He cleared his throat. “Good job in class today. Your answers were...  always impeccable.” His voice dropped slightly, as though he was forcing the words out.

I gave him a sly smile, my cheeks burning slightly from the attention. “Thanks, Professor. I’ll be sure to give you more to think about next time.”

As I turned to leave, I couldn’t help but feel the smirk forming on my lips. I’d pushed just the right buttons today, and I could see the jealousy simmering beneath his usually cold exterior.

As I walked out of the hallway, I could feel his eyes still on me, even though he didn’t say a word. It was like a scene from one of those horror movies we’d joked about—where the tension builds and you’re not sure when the next jump scare will come, but you know it’s coming.

I had him now. Professor Hetfield was interested, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

It had been days since I’d started playing my little games with Professor Hetfield. Each class had felt like a silent war, a dance of glances, subtle challenges, and unspoken words. I could feel his eyes on me more and more, could see the tension building every time I answered a question or made a move in his class. It was almost like a game of cat and mouse, and I was enjoying every second of it.

Today was no different. I was the last to leave the lecture hall, as usual. I liked to take my time, let everyone else rush out. There was something intoxicating about the way Professor Hetfield always seemed to watch me leave, his eyes following me as I gathered my things. And today, I was determined to make him feel something more.

I slung my bag over my shoulder slowly, savoring the quiet of the empty classroom. I had done it again—made him want more, made him chase me without him even realizing it. I thought I’d done enough to leave the class without another glance back, but today felt different.

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I heard his voice. Low, controlled, but unmistakably commanding.

“Miss Y/N.”

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I turned slowly to face him. He was standing by his desk, his gaze fixed on me. There was a new intensity in his eyes—a flicker of something deeper, something darker that hadn’t been there before.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it now, a hint of something more.

I gave him a playful smile, leaning back slightly against the door. “Just thought I’d take my time, Professor. You know, savor the moment.”

His lips twitched at the corner, a small smirk playing on his face as he walked slowly toward me. “Savor the moment? Interesting choice of words.”

I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why? Does that make you uncomfortable, Professor?” I could see the flicker of challenge in his eyes, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming.

“No,” he said quietly, his voice lowering, “but it makes me curious.”

The air between us thickened. Every step he took felt like it brought him closer to something dangerous—something that neither of us had fully acknowledged until now. I could feel the electricity crackling in the room, like we were standing on the edge of something we couldn’t control.

I took a step back, my heart racing. “I should go,” I said softly, trying to maintain control, even as the desire building between us felt undeniable.

But as I reached for the door, he moved quickly, his hand slamming against it, stopping me from leaving.

I froze, caught off guard by the force of his movement. My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at him, his blue eyes locking with mine. He was so close now, the heat of his body radiating against mine.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

My heart pounded in my chest. The space between us was electric, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His hand stayed on the door, his other hand slowly lifting to brush a lock of hair behind my ear. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I could barely breathe under the weight of his gaze.

“You like playing with me, don’t you?” His voice was almost a growl now, the words wrapped in dark intent. “You like making me chase you, testing me, seeing how far I’ll go.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breath, but I couldn’t deny the heat that rushed through me. This was the moment—the moment. “Maybe,” I whispered, my lips almost brushing against his as I spoke. “Maybe I do.”

His smirk deepened, and in that instant, he closed the distance between us. His lips crashed against mine, fierce and hungry, as if he couldn’t hold back anymore. The kiss was everything I had imagined—passionate, urgent, full of unspoken desire. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer, the heat of his body making me melt against him.

I responded in kind, my hands threading through his hair, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepened, and I could feel his desire growing, matching my own. The world outside the room ceased to exist. All that mattered was the tension between us—the need that had been building for days, now finally unleashed.

His hands moved to the small of my back, pushing me against the door as he kissed me deeper. I could feel his breath against my neck, his lips trailing down to the sensitive spot just below my ear. I gasped as his hand slid down, dangerously close to where I wanted him, but just as quickly, he pulled away, his eyes dark with lust.

“You’ve been playing with fire, Miss Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “And now… it’s my turn.” I think,” he said, his voice soft but filled with purpose, “that I should remind you who’s in charge here.”

I looked up at him, my chest rising and falling with every breath. My heart was racing, but I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “I’ve been waiting for this,” I whispered.

His gaze darkened, and without another word, he pulled me toward him again, this time more forcefully, as his lips descended on mine once more. The kiss was all heat and urgency, the taste of him intoxicating as his hands roamed over my body, taking control in a way that made me feel both exhilarated and completely powerless.

I responded, parting my lips slightly, inviting him in. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against mine with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the connection between us. My body seemed to melt against him, every inch of me craving the touch I had been teasing him with for so long.

His hands found their way to my waist, pulling me closer, and for a brief moment, I thought he might push me further. But he didn’t. Instead, he gently guided me toward his desk, the action so smooth, so deliberate, I couldn’t help but follow.

He stopped just before the edge of the desk, his eyes locking onto mine. “Sit,” he said, his voice soft but commanding.

I obeyed without hesitation, sitting on the edge of the desk, my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for what would come next. The anticipation was almost too much to bear.

He stepped back, taking in the sight of me sitting there, the tension thick in the air. “You’ve been teasing me,” he said again, his voice softer this time, but no less intense. “But you want more, don’t ya?”

I nodded, unable to find the words. My body felt like it was on fire, every nerve alive with need.

“You’re so needy for me, Miss Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire. “And I think you know exactly how far you’re willing to go.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, but before I could respond, he was back in front of me, his lips capturing mine once again. The kiss was hungry now, desperate, like we were both starved for this connection. There was no turning back. He first unbuttoned my shirt a bit, playing with them a bit, but surprisingly he ripped my shirt leaving me with only my bra. I smirked at his action, and with confidence, I started removing my bra, slowly looking at him, with a smirk. My fingers hesitated for just a second as I reached for the straps of my bra, but I knew he was watching, and somehow, that made me move slower, more deliberately.

As I pulled the fabric down my shoulders, I felt his eyes trace the curve of my skin. I could see the shift in his posture—how his breath seemed to catch, how his chest rose and fell a little faster. His eyes never left me, and I could feel the weight of his stare like a touch, lingering on my exposed skin. When the bra finally slipped down, I couldn’t help but notice how his gaze followed every inch, lingering on my breasts with such intensity that it made me feel completely exposed.

His jaw tightened, and I saw his hand flex at his side, as if he was fighting the urge to move. He didn’t look away. In fact, it was almost like he was drinking me in, like he couldn’t get enough of what he was seeing. There was hunger in his eyes—raw, powerful—and yet, there was something else too, something almost reverent, like he was seeing me in a way no one else ever had.

His breath was shallow, quick, and I noticed how his body shifted, how he leaned in just slightly, drawn to me without even realizing it. I could tell he wanted to reach out, to close the distance between us, but he stayed still, rooted in place, just watching. His eyes flicked back to mine for a moment, and the heat between us seemed to grow, thick and heavy, leaving no room for anything but this moment.

I let the bra drop fully, and still, his gaze never wavered. I felt a flush spread across my skin, not from shyness, but from the raw intensity of how he was looking at me. He was hungry for me, but it wasn’t just physical. It felt deeper, like he was searching for something in me, something more than just the surface.

At that moment, I realized I wasn’t just undressing for him. I was giving him all of me, and he was taking it in, slowly, carefully, like he was afraid if he blinked, it would all disappear.

“You really love teasing, don’t you, darling?” His voice was low, almost a growl, like he was savoring the words, letting them linger between us. His gaze never left mine, intense and predatory, but there was something playful in the way he spoke, as if he enjoyed watching me revel in the power of the moment.

 met his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. His words hung in the air, heavy with that unmistakable edge of desire. “Yes,” I said softly, my voice breathless but confident. “I love it.” I let the words linger between us, daring him to respond, daring him to make the next move.

His eyes darkened, and the moment stretched taut between us, the space narrowing. Before I could even register the shift in his posture, his hand was on me—his touch firm, almost possessive as he reached for my breast, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin. I gasped, my body instinctively tilting toward him, but he guided me with ease, his touch a mixture of control and dominance.

“You’ve had your little games,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intent. “Now it’s my turn to have fun.” His thumb stroked the curve of my breast, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ve teased me enough, darling. But now…” He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his grip tightening slightly. “Now, it’s my turn to see just how much you can handle.”

His hand didn’t stop, didn’t falter. The intensity of his gaze pinned me in place, even as my breath hitched and my knees felt weak. Without a word, he guided me back until I felt the cool edge of the desk against me. His touch was deliberate, firm but not rushed, as though he wanted to savor every reaction he could draw from me.

“Lie back,” he murmured, his voice deep and commanding, the kind of tone that sent a shiver through me and left no room for hesitation. I obeyed, lowering myself onto the desk, the smooth surface pressing against my back as he loomed over me.

His hands moved down, exploring every inch of me, his fingertips brushing over my exposed skin with an unhurried precision that made me feel like I was unraveling under his touch. When he reached the hem of my skirt, his eyes flicked up to meet mine, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said, his tone teasing but heavy with desire. He slid the fabric higher, baring my thighs inch by inch, watching as goosebumps rose on my skin. His fingers lingered just at the edge of my panties, tracing the line where the fabric met my skin, a maddeningly light touch that made my pulse race.

“You like to tease, but look at you now,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. His thumb brushed over me through the thin fabric, his movements slow, deliberate. I couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped my lips, and his smirk deepened.

“Already so wet,” he said softly, almost to himself, his fingers pressing just enough to make me squirm. “Tell me, darling, was this all part of your little game? Or is this just how much you want me?”

The way he looked at me, the way his hands moved, made my mind spin. I couldn’t find the words to respond, couldn’t do anything but feel as he kept teasing me, his touch igniting every nerve in my body. He was in complete control now, and I could only hold onto the edge of the desk, letting myself get lost in the way he looked at me like I was his to claim.

His fingers toyed with the edge of my panties, his touch maddeningly light as though he was savoring how much I squirmed under him. I managed a smirk, though my breath was already unsteady.

“You’re good at this,” I murmured, the tease in my voice thin but still there. “But what about you, Professor?” My words dripped with mock innocence, daring him. “You should’ve seen the way you were looking at me earlier.”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening for just a moment as if I’d struck a nerve. The smirk that spread across his lips after was slow, deliberate, dangerous.

“You have no idea,” he said, the words making me shiver. “How many times I’ve dreamed of this—of having you like this, spread out, completely mine to touch, to taste…” His hand slid lower, his fingers grazing the soft fabric that clung to me. “To fuck you senseless,” he finished, his tone rough with restraint, his breath hot against my skin.

“Don’t you have rules about this?” I asked, my voice low and teasing, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “Making out with your student?”

He paused for a fraction of a second, his eyes locking onto mine. The intensity in his gaze made my stomach flip, and then he leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, his voice rough and full of heat.

“I’d break every rule for you, darling,” he said, his breath hot against my skin. “Every single one.”

His hands moved with purpose then, slipping beneath the waistband of my panties, hooking the fabric, and pulling it down slowly. The deliberate way he did it—like he wanted me to feel every second of it—made my pulse race.

“Lift,” he said, his tone low and commanding, and I obeyed without a second thought, letting him slide them down and away. The cool air against my bare skin made me shiver, but his warm hands were already there, settling on my thighs, pushing them apart with a quiet authority that sent heat rushing through me.

“Open up for me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, his eyes dark with intent. The way he looked at me, like I was something he’d waited too long to touch, made me tremble. 

He leaned in, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his breath warm, every touch deliberate and unhurried. I gripped the edge of the desk, barely able to breathe as he moved closer, the tension in the air thick enough to drown in.

“You teased me long enough,” he murmured against my skin, his voice a low, gravelly promise. “Now, let me take care of you the way I’ve dreamed of.”

His hands tightened on my thighs, spreading them wider as he leaned in, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. The weight of his gaze alone made me feel exposed, vulnerable—but in a way that only made me crave more. His touch was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment, every reaction I gave him.

I tried to steady my breath, but it was impossible when every second of his tongue left me more breathless. His lips brushed over my skin, soft and teasing, but I couldn’t stop the way my body responded—how I arched toward him instinctively, needing more.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, with a hint of command. “Let me make you feel good.”

The tension in my body built with every deliberate stroke of his tongue on my clit,  every soft press of his lips. I could feel my pulse racing, the heat spreading through me, getting more intense with every move he made. The way he took his time, exploring, licking, making sure I felt every inch of his attention, was driving me crazy. I couldn’t help the quiet moans that escaped my lips, each one only fueling his need to tease me further.

I could feel the pressure building, growing tighter and tighter inside me, until it was almost unbearable. His movements were steady, perfect, and it was clear he was enjoying the way I was coming undone beneath his touch. My body trembled with anticipation, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Professor… professor… I’m c-coming,” I gasped, my voice shaky as the words tumbled out before I could even stop them.

The moment I spoke, he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against me as he glanced up at me, his expression filled with a wicked, knowing smile.

“Call me James, babe,” he murmured, his voice rough and possessive. There was a playful edge in his tone, but underneath it was an unmistakable authority that sent another wave of heat rushing through me.

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down—he kept moving with that same steady rhythm, drawing me closer to the edge again. The way he moved, the way he touched me, left me no choice but to surrender to the pleasure.

“James...” I gasped, the sound of his name falling from my lips like a plea, a release. It pushed me over the edge, and I couldn’t help but let go, the pleasure crashing through me in waves as I fell apart beneath his touch.

I could hardly catch my breath as the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed away, my chest heaving with each shallow inhale. Slowly, I sat up, trying to regain some sense of control, my body still trembling slightly from the release he’d given me.

But he wasn’t done. I felt his hand gently, yet firmly, guide me back, pushing me to lay across the desk.

“Did you think I was done, Y/n?” His voice was low, confident, full of quiet authority as he loomed above me, his eyes dark with intent. “I told you... now it’s my turn to play.”

His hands moved with purpose, his fingers undoing his shirt. I watched as he pulled it off, revealing his toned chest, each muscle defined and impossibly perfect in the soft light. The sight of him, so composed yet hungry for me, stirred something deep inside.

He unzipped his trousers, the sound of the zipper sharp in the otherwise quiet room. As he stepped closer, his gaze never left mine, steady and filled with something that made my heart race even faster.

“I know you want it, babe,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with unspoken promise. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this... to make you scream my name while I fuck your little pussy. I can feel it... the way you’ve been craving me, just like I’ve been craving you.”

I could feel the tension building again between us, the heat in the room growing almost unbearable. His hands moved firmly to my shoulders, guiding me back until I was lying flat across the desk, my heart racing with both anticipation and uncertainty. The shift in position made everything feel more intimate, more real, and I could feel my body instinctively surrendering to him.

His touch was possessive now, his hands gentle but unyielding, pressing me firmly against the desk. My breath hitched as he loomed over me, his presence a weight I couldn’t escape. Every movement he made was deliberate, as though he was savoring each second, each shift of power.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an unmistakable edge of command. His tone was both soothing and thrilling, the way he said my name sending a rush of heat through my body. The way he used it—like he was taking control—made my pulse quicken.

It felt as though every inch of my body was attuned to him, and I couldn’t help but let go of the resistance, letting myself sink into the moment, into the connection we shared.

His hands slid gently under my ass, lifting me as he positioned himself between my legs, his presence commanding. I could feel the weight of his touch as he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly over the inside of my thighs. The kiss was slow, deliberate, each movement sending a pulse of warmth through my body.

“You’re mine now, Y/N,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin, sending shivers through me. “I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

He leaned in, starting moving slowly but sending shivers down my spine. Each thrust  was deliberate, slow—almost too slow for the need I felt building within me. My body wanted more, needed more, but he was taking his time, letting every moment stretch out, making me ache with wanting.

I could feel him shift slightly, his hands gently gripping my hips, pulling me closer, but still, he didn’t move any faster. The anticipation was maddening, and I couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that escaped my lips.

“Please,” I breathed, barely able to control myself. “Faster, please.”

His eyes locked onto mine as he paused, the intensity in his gaze making my heart race. There was a moment where I could feel his control slipping, but he only smiled slightly, the hint of a challenge in his eyes.

“You’re such a desperate girl, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost like a growl. There was a teasing edge to his words, but they only added to the heat building inside me. His tone, though commanding, held something more—a knowing that made me shiver in response.

The pace had quickened, and every movement he made sent waves of heat through me. His hands were gripping my hips, holding me in place as he thrust harder, faster. My breath was coming in ragged gasps, my chest rising and falling with each moment. I could feel every inch of him, the way his body moved with control and purpose, making every nerve in my body come alive.

I could feel his gaze on me, intense and dark with desire, as he continued to move with a rhythm that was both steady and relentless. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he whispered, his hands sliding up to my ribs, his fingers curling slightly as he held me tighter, his thumb brushing over my skin.

“Yes,” I gasped, the word slipping out before I could stop it. I was already lost in the sensation, my mind spinning with the intensity of everything—his touch, his voice, the way he made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Without missing a beat, he increased the pace again, and I couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation overwhelming. His movements were smooth, confident, his body pressing me down into the desk as I gripped the edges, my fingers digging into the cool surface. Every thrust sent shockwaves through me, the intensity building until I could feel my body starting to tremble with the pressure.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through me. His words were a promise, something deeper, something real. “You feel so good, Y/N.”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t form a coherent thought. I was lost in the feeling of him, the way his body moved with mine, the way everything seemed to align as if we were both caught in the same moment, the same rhythm. The connection was undeniable, each touch, each thrust, drawing me closer to the edge.

My breaths were shallow now, the pressure building more and more. I could feel myself starting to tremble, my legs tightening around him, desperate for release. “James,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, but he heard it, responding without hesitation.

“What did you say, darling? I didn’t hear you” He said, looking at me with a smirk on his face. “Jame-” I tried to say but only a moan came. “I don't hear you babe” and he thrusted harder now and I felt dizzy for a second. “I told you I want you to scream my name, but I don’t listen nothing” “James, fuck me harder!” I cried, I don’t even know how my voice came. He looked at me with a smirk.

His hands moved down to my thighs, gripping them firmly, and he shifted, adjusting his position just enough to make the sensation even more intense. My body arched, a soft gasp escaping me as the new angle took over, the pressure building in all the right ways.

It was almost too much, but I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t pull away. I wanted this, needed this, and as the rhythm of his movements quickened again, I could feel my own body responding, chasing that overwhelming release.

" James... I'm close," I breathed, my voice shaky, barely a whisper. Every part of me was on fire, the heat inside me almost unbearable, but I couldn't stop it. I was caught between control and the overwhelming need to give in to what he was offering.

"Cum for me, Y/N, come all over my cock such a good girl you are" he whispered, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. The sound of his words sent a shiver down my spine, like a signal that it was okay to give in, to let the pressure that had been building inside me finally break free.

 I finally let go. The sensation hit me all at once, a wave of heat and release that took over, making my entire body tremble. I couldn’t stop the soft, breathless moans that slipped from me, each one an echo of the intensity coursing through me.

"I need just a bit more," he whispered, his voice strained. His hands gripped my hips tighter as he pulled me closer, urging me to meet his rhythm.

The pace quickened, the sounds of his breathing growing louder. His movements became more erratic, his grip on me tightening, his face a mix of focus and something deeper.

"Y/N..." he muttered, his breath catching. His body shuddered against mine, the tension finally snapping as he released a soft exhale, the rapid rise and fall of his chest matching the frantic rhythm of the moment.

For a few moments, we both stayed still, breathing heavily, connected in the quiet aftermath.

He gently guided me to sit, but I remained on the edge of the desk, my legs draped around his waist, as he stood just in front of me. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, his chest pressing against mine as we both caught our breath. I could feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek. We both smiled, a moment of quiet intimacy between us.

"Wow," I murmured, my voice still breathless. "That was intense."

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening slightly as if reassuring me. "I’m glad you liked it," he whispered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. A playful glint danced in his eyes, but there was also something deeper, an intensity that lingered.

I looked up at him, my fingers tracing lightly over his shirt, my lips teasing the words I could feel bubbling up inside. "What if I wanted to play again?" I said, my voice soft but daring, the words laced with challenge.

He smirked, holding me a little tighter as if pulling me further into him. "If you play with me again, there will be consequences," he said, his tone playful yet firm.

I met his gaze, leaning in just slightly, my lips brushing near his ear. "Then I’ll gladly play again," I whispered, my voice a breath against his skin.

He chuckled softly, but then his expression shifted. He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, a serious edge creeping into his voice. "I forgot to mention something," he said. His hand moved to the back of my neck, his touch gentle but firm. "If I hear you talking the way you did earlier, with Professor Hammett, I’ll make you pay for it."

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I looked up at him, my lips curling into a teasing smile. "Are you jealous, Professor?" I asked, my voice light, but there was a part of me that wanted to know just how he’d react.

His grip on me tightened, just enough to send a shiver through me, but his smile didn’t waver. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice rough but with a hint of warmth. "And maybe, just maybe, I’ll make you regret making me feel that way."

A playful laugh escaped me, but there was a softness in my chest, a warmth I couldn’t quite explain. Without another word, he leaned down, pressing his lips gently to mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was slow at first, a tender kiss that deepened as we both surrendered to the quiet pull between us. When we finally broke away, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths coming in unison.

"I’ve wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice thick with something more than just desire.

I smiled softly, running my fingers along the edge of his shirt, a quiet thrill coursing through me. "I think we both have a lot more to explore, don’t we?"

He chuckled, pulling me closer once more, his arms holding me as if to keep me from ever slipping away. "Definitely."

[hogwartsstudentconfidential]

Dear Students,

Miss me? It's been awhile hasn't it. I've been building up the gossip as well as the announcements, thanks to all of the messages I've received from you all. Suck it Quibbler, bet nobody dms you.

Anywho let's get into our announcements for the week as well as congratulate Gryffindor on their win in quidditch this past weekend, as well as a big good luck to Ravenclaw when they go against Slytherin next week.

Of course in good Hogwarts fashion, Gryffindor will be hosting a celebratory party in the common room this weekend, all are invited so make sure to dress up and let the drama unfold ;).

On another note I have been alerted about a surprise exam professor Sprout is planning on assigning her students so make sure to study, but only after the party of course.

As everyone knows winter season is approaching quickly which means Madame Pomfrey will be packed with sick students. The woman is already stressed enough with you reckless gits so please wash your hands and cover your mouths this year.

Now onto everybody's favorite part of this newspaper, the gossip:

Onto relationships, Congratulations to Pandora Rosier and Lucius Malfoy on their new relationship, the two are very cute together. However, has anyone else noticed the amount of flirting Lucius Malfoy does with other girls? If I were Pandora I’d keep an eye on my man.

Now the amount of messages I've received about Emmeline and Mary being, and I quite “SO gay for each other” is honestly insane. I mean, it's so obvious to everyone but them they're in love. Did you see the way they were whispering and giggling to each other at the firework show? Mary couldn't keep her eyes off the girl.

Now onto James Potter. The star quidditch player and prankster is well known around Hogwarts of course as well as his beautiful girlfriend Hestia. However a little Birdy has told me the loving boyfriend might not be so loyal. A lot of people have been suspecting the boy is in love with another. He disappeared the night of the fireworks to go get “snacks” by himself, refusing company and the only other person missing besides himself was none other than Regulus Black.

I have even received an interesting direct message for Mr Potter I will send out after this of course.

I've also been alerted of a possible tension growing between Marlene and Hestia, my supplier lacked on what type of tension so you take your pick. Do you think it's romantic or are the two girls about to give Hogwarts the best fight of the century? Let me know what you think.

Now back to Pandora, it seems as though she's made an enemy? The girl was recently questioned about a kiss between her and Xenophilus Lovegood. The girl immediately denied the rumor, her own boyfriend standing up for her, but he wasn't the only one. Xenophilus Lovegood also stood up for the girl, I suppose he is her friend but could there be something more? Lucius himself has even spoken of concern for where the girl's heart lies. Could a love triangle be brewing?

Onto some more exciting news, James Potter is handing out invitations for his mother's Christmas ball. This wonderful event is sure to be nothing but magical so if you receive an invite consider yourself lucky.

Oh and Remus Lupin's middle name is John.

Now before I sign out I’d like to say a little something. The Quibbler may be fun for little facts about creatures but it's hardly anything if the spelling is incorrect. Xenophilus Lovegood, it's best if you check your spelling and check it twice.

Thank you for reading this week's copy of Hogwarts Confidential and I will see you all next time. 💋

@emmelineandhervans @wormy-loves-ch33se @james-the-amazing-potter @marls-mckinn0n @andromedashoax @little-king-official @severusprince-snape @the-queen-bellatrix @thehotteststarr @lifeofthe-barty @mary-mcdeal @looneymoonyy @lilyevansoffical @xeno-graphical @pandoras-nox @oxxen--free @cas-not-the-band @flowers-of-narcissus @alicethekindone @malfoy-lu @mystical-magical-me @hjonesworld

[ruvviks]

OC HOMES IN THE SIMS: james & rikki (cyberpunk 2077)

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Applying to an apartment with little income and terrible credit score, in hopes that they'll be desperate enough to take me

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

i think i finally realized why ive been feeling so damn depressed lately again

sorry for writing this here. im really hurting actually. im not good. i feel a bit helpless too. idk who to talk to bc i dont want to burden anyons and i donf feel like anything could console me right now

Like. fuck me man. thanks for saving me but. why the hell are you not here. i dont want to do this without you. i hate only being able to remember you. i was supposed to grow old with you, not without you.

And. honestly. even with all this bullshit i say here, all the endless times i spend trying to write down my feelings, abt you, about all the pain ive felt my life, it doesnt get better. not at all. and no words, no poetry takes it away and i truly feel like nobody will ever truly understand how suffocated i felt all my life.

and i want to change thanks to you but. i dont know. nothing's satisfying enough.

no matter what, i truly only feel great when im in that daydream like world you created.

and these past days ive been thinking a lot that. i really wouldnt mind dying right now. not at all. because at least i know what happiness feels like. and i want to stay in that state. probably, even in this life your music will bring me happiness, but i want to be trapped in it.

im tired of being so unseen, and even when im seen, im hurting. but i dont know whats hurting. i think im just really tired thats all.

and. ye. i feel brave tbh. i still havent posted my video to instagram, bc im not brave for that. i dont know. and i feel like a hypocrite bc everything is true that i wrote there but at the same time these are my thoughts currently

in a long while i looked up suicide methods again. i feel so hopeful, but im not really sure if really for the future. jm sorry this is probably alarming. i will probably not kill myself but. idk. im not sure actually. i dknt know what to say. i wasnt cut out for this wordly shit.i feel unlovable but even if im loved, i donf want to be. i dont want anything. just let me stsy in this quiet place snd just. disappear. i wouldnt want my family to hurt if i die but i wont know about it anyways. idk man. i feel strongly i could die calmly this time and thats nice. bc 6 years ago i was terrified, and hurt. but now im content and kind of ready idk man. its not a terrible feeling, its a "this is it, it was nice while it lasted" ig.

there are no clouds in my head actually. i truly dont feel like im thinking irrationally, i feel like this would just be like. the end goal i was looking for. to feel true love once. it was nice.

no goodbye yet bc idk how id kms even if i do. But ill tell u guys if i found something.

[boygirlctommy]

barely caught the last few minutes of tommys stream, but it doesnt matter bcus i still cried my eyes out :,) i love you dsmp and most of all i love you dsmp fandom <3

[peapod20001]

I actually do have very complex thoughts about many different things, it’s just a bit challenging to connect the inner voice to the outer voice sometimes </3

[astrxealis]

dropping by a bit just a bit before midnights and i head to sleep because HELLL am i so glad with my fire units actually. i need to do work on proper teams and grids and shit but ?? wilnas percival michael medusa athena anila nemone etc i am Winning here

[tumbler-dot-com-user]

I MISS MY COPY OF JOURNAL 3 SO BAD AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[greetingsfromuranus]

Hmmm.... maybe I can read homestuck ONE MORE time....

[oatmealaddiction]

Okay but the weirdest thing about the whole "Brotherhood is better you should skip 03" discourse that's become commonplace now, it sort of forgets the world Brotherhood came out in and why you should watch the original Fullmetal Alchemist. When Brotherhood came out, the original Fullmetal Alchemist was one of the most beloved and most watched animes of all time. Brotherhood assumes you the audience have already seen it because of course you have, everyone has seen it, so it skips important information and speeds the story up because it doesn't want to bore you with things you already know. Have you ever wondered "hey why does the first episode of Brotherhood kind of suck, and why am I being introduced to like 50 new characters, and why are they acting like I know what the hell an alchemist is?" It's because Brotherhood thinks you've seen 03.

The first 7 or so episodes of Brotherhood constitute dozens of chapters in the manga, and the first 25 or so episodes of the original Fullmetal Alchemist. The Nina Tucker episode in Brotherhood, in FMA 03 takes up nearly three episodes. Yoki gets a backstory in 03 and it's genuinely one of the best episodes and taken directly from the manga and Brotherhood glosses over it because: duh, you've already seen it. And so if you skip the original you miss out on dozens of really great character building episodes like Ed and Al meeting Hughes for the first time and getting to spend a whole episode helping him free a train from terrorists, or Ed and Roy having a duel that expands on the relationship they have, or episodes where the brothers just help out random people in towns before the major story gets going.

The original also paces itself quite a bit better than Brotherhood and is more in line with the mangas storytelling. In the manga we don't find out about The Gate until nearly two dozen chapters in, and the same goes for the original anime. Like, that's a twist reveal in those stories, and it's weird that the most watched series is the one where they tell you all about The Gate in the first two episodes because they assume you've already seen the original show.

What's more, people don't know that Hiromu Arakawa helped write for the anime while she was still in the middle of writing the manga, and as a result was inspired to write scenes in Brotherhood that the anime did first. That scene of Edward getting impaled by a falling beam? Directly inspired by a similar scene in the original anime. There's a lot of little instances of that and they're great when you can recognize parallels and things in Brotherhood that are direct references to the original anime, but people don't notice any of that anymore. Because the original anime is just an automatic skip these days, and it's a bummer because people don't realize what a giant it was back before Brotherhood was released. They treat it as *bad,* not realizing it was one of the most beloved anime of its time and the problems people take issue with have a lot more to do with personal taste than any kind of actual flaw in the writing. Brotherhood was never meant to dethrone it, and the original anime was always supposed to be part of the viewing experience which is why those first few episodes of Brotherhood are so fast paced. So like, please stop telling people Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is a skip, or it's bad, or you don't need it because Brotherhood is better. Regardless if you think Brotherhood is better or not, the original wrote Brotherhood's check. It was huge, it was beloved, and Brotherhood is *banking* on the knowledge you've seen all of it and loved it. And trust me when I say there is so much to love about the original series. It's still my favorite branch of the FMA franchise, and it's worth your time, I promise you.

[s4pphoiduser]

sometimes the only place you can still get the snacks you've loved since you were five is the department store that hasn't gotten an upgrade since 2010 and still stocks the same things it always has with only a handful of new additions

[lymtw]

Thinking of an argument with Toji that leaves you mute by choice towards him. He still talks to you and asks you questions, and while you don't turn away from him, you don't respond to him either. He ends up having to figure out whatever he needs on his own because after a minute or so you huff and walk away from the conversation.

"Mama," he calls from the bedroom, rummaging through his clothing drawers. "Have you seen my gym shorts?"

If he was able to get a word out of you, he would know that you washed them for him. Though you were still sizzling with anger towards him, you pulled them out of the dryer and walked them over to the room. He could hear your little footsteps as you approached the room, and when he turned to look at you, he noticed you were holding his shorts in your hand.

Your eyes were vacant towards him. You didn't want them to be because it sucks when you can't look at him with the endless amount of love you have in store for him. It's still there, but it's being masked by a poker face.

You toss the shorts onto the bed and leave. Toji sighs, irked by the fact that it's actually starting to sting now. Your disregard for him because you're ruled by your emotions and he lets things go too easily because he can't hold a grudge towards you, even if he feels you're in the wrong.

Toji never knew how much he depended on your voice until you wouldn't let him hear it. He depends on you to tell him where things are because without you they would be scattered all over the place. He doesn't know your method of organization, but somehow when he needs something and looks to you in order to find it, you pull it out from right under his nose. He depends on you to tell him he's doing a good job, and to tell him you love him, and just reassure him in general. It makes him feel good to know that someone thinks he's good enough, but recently the one person who feeds him affection like it's as important as food and water, has left him to starve. You haven't said a word to him in almost two days, and he feels like he's starting to go crazy. The sound of his own voice is driving him insane. It's gotten so bad that he had to make a mental note of how he's going to get you back that same night.

Toji leaves for the gym and texts you during his time there. He includes some images because it's now an unspoken rule that he always has to send you gym pics.

[ Attachment: 3 Images]

... 😳🤐

Yeah, I know you like those. I'll be home soon.

You take the time to doll yourself up while he's still out. It's for him, but you won't tell him that until you come back from your "night out". Really, you're just gonna go get dinner for both of you from his favorite little restaurant. You just want to see how far he's willing to let this go, because you're caving. You're ready to apologize even when you know he's not upset at all. You're ready to spoil him in order to make up for those severe feelings you held towards him. You're ready to hear about how stubborn and unbelievable you are for this little act you pulled.

You spray on some perfume and walk out of the bathroom, just in time to catch Toji walking through the door.

"Woof, where're you going, ma?" He asks, setting down his gym bag before absorbing everything you were gracing him with. His eyes flit up and down your body, lingering on the very bare skin of the legs that come out from under your skirt. He can smell your perfume from where he stands, its elegant scent masking even the smell of his own potent sweat.

You didn't answer his question, and left him to wonder why you're all dressed up at seven o'clock at night. Was it a girl's night or were you openly showing him that you have options? Did he miss a message or a call from you?

You grabbed your wallet and scooted past him. You walked halfway down the corridor of your apartment building before realizing that maybe this was a bit much. You would make him worry over you going on a five minute walk to grab some food? All so you can show him you're mad? You cracked.

🥟🥡🍜.

Toji was staring at his screen, waiting for anything from you. The screen flashes like some sort of miracle and your message is seen by him. He chuckles, feeling a sense of relief wash over him at the sight of your little emoticons.

You came back home as fast as possible, bags of food in hand as you patiently waited for the elevator to bring you up to your floor. You took your time walking through the corridor, this time, not knowing how you would react once you saw Toji or if you would immediately say something to him. You're ready to talk to him, you want to talk to him. You miss him, you love him, and you hate the passiveness you threw yourself into around him as an act of retaliation.

There you were, standing in front of the door, nervous beyond belief for what was behind it. You collected yourself and twisted the doorknob, ready to face anything that came to you.

Toji stood from the couch and walked over to you to take the bags from your hands. The smell of his body wash wafted into your nose. There was an imaginary white flag hanging out of your pocket, and it was about to fall out to signal your surrender to Toji.

He pecks your cheek and watches in real time as color floods into your face. It's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen—you standing there so rigidly afterwards. He gives you a soft smile and resists the urge to coo at you for being so cute. Instead, he heads to the table to put the bags of food down.

You shut the door, and within a split second, Toji was in front of you again. "Ma," he says, sounding a little more desperate than he thought he would. "Say something." You stand there like a statue—unmoving, but unlike a statue, you are easily moveable. Especially, by Toji. "Anything, mama, please." He crouches down at your feet, his warm hands resting on the backs of your knees and his cheek resting on one of your thighs. This position made it look like you were being worshipped by him, and anyone who ever saw him do this would know that it was true, because he worshipped everything about you. From the top of your head, to the ground your feet stood on.

"Don't you miss having my hands on you?" They glide up and down the backs of your thighs. He looks up at your stunned expression. You won't look down at him, so he gets to see the way you swallow the words dying to leave your mouth, and the slight widening of your eyes as he lets his hands roam your lower body. "I know I do. I've been in hell these past couple days." He presses a soft kiss to your knee, then one more on your thigh. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't think you're selfish, baby. Maybe i'm just a greedy asshole," he says, rekindling the subject of what led to your silence towards him. His hand maneuvers around your leg so that his palm is on your thigh, making its way up towards the inner part of it. "But, I know something," his lips trail further up your thigh, softly kissing your skin. "I'm greedy about you. That can't and won't be changed, even when we argue like idiots."

You put your hand on his head as he starts kissing up your inner thighs, making his way even further up beneath your skirt.

"Come on, my sweet girl," he murmurs, his lips meeting the front of your underwear. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me you hate that my filthy paws are on you, right now."

Your legs tremble at the lightness of his touch, and you internally cringe at how sensitive you've always been for him.

"Toji..." you gasp. You feel his warm tongue flatten between your legs, a slow upwards drag of the muscle makes your thighs quiver before him. You whimper at the damp warmth his saliva leaves on your panties. "Fuck..." you moan, breathily. "Don't stop. Stay there, please."

The first word you reintroduced yourself with being a moaned out rendition of his name was heaven reaching down to pat him on the back for knowing exactly what to do to get you to talk again.

"Open wider for me, baby. Let me see," Toji says, your skirt still veiled over his head. You take a step back so that your back is against the door and widen your stance a little more. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder and you shudder when his tongue returns to slide through your clothed folds. He doesn't even need to produce that much saliva to drench the fabric of your underwear because you've done that for him already with your leaking arousal.

You shut your eyes and rest your head against the door as Toji continues his act of filth between your thighs. You can hear him panting below you, your taste pleasantly coating his tongue every time he sucks on the garment that clings to you.

You cry out his name with sharp breaths following, your fingers tangling into his locks, gripping and tugging as his lips catch onto your cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you grit out, whimpering at the contrast between his mouth and his hands. His hands offer a gentle massage to your thighs, softly kneading the plush between his fingers. His mouth moves purposefully because he knows exactly what it takes to make you fall apart with it. He coats his tongue with your essence every time he laps at the wet patch on your underwear, sticky webs of arousal connecting him to you.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your cunt throbbing with every brush of his tongue. "I'm gonna cum... Fuck, i'm gonna cum..." you whine.

Toji pushes your underwear to the side, and glides his tongue through your generously slicked folds once and you're instantly arching your back off the door, squirming in his hold and moaning carelessly as he sloppily makes out with your cunt. He desperately chases the sound of your pleasure-ridden voice, wanting to hear the way it raises in pitch when he strokes you just right. He doesn't want it to stop, it's been too long. Two days way too long. You tug at his hair with one hand, dragging the nails of your other hand down the door. You breathe heavily as Toji manipulates your pleasure until your thighs are trembling.

Toji pulls away and lifts your skirt off his head. He lowers your leg back down and stands up from his crouched position. He faces you with glossy lips that shine with all the juices he collected from you, some of it drooling down his chin to give him an even more messy appearance. He presses his lips to yours, making slow movements to allow you to realize what is happening while your eyes are closed. You can taste yourself on his lips as you catch the rhythm.

There's a loud smack in the last kiss before he releases you, a feral look in his green eyes as he dotes on your blissed out appearance. You look too pure for someone who's just experienced something so sinful. "Hey, look at me," he coos, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Look at me," he repeats, staring at you as you try to catch your breath with closed eyes.

You hum, rolling your eyes open to lazily stare back at him. Your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at him, but you liked how vigilant he was being. It made you crack a grin, a small gesture that had Toji's heart thudding a little quicker, now.

"I wanna fuck you so bad, mama." His eyes trail yours as they look away from his gaze. "If this is your reaction to my mouth, I don't even know what to expect for when I'm inside you."

You look down to see what's been poking your thigh for the past minute or so, and it's the monster in his pants, outlined for your eyes to quickly spot and everything.

"Come on," you say, reaching your hand out to him. He takes it and allows you to lead him to the bedroom.

Toji shuts the door and locks it to give the situation a deeper level of intimacy. There's no one there but the two of you and yet you feel even more secluded by the gesture.

He wasn't aggressive in the way he bared you for his eyes. He pulled you close to him by the waist, your body against his as he peeled your layers of clothes off.

"Stay," he says, when you take a step back. He takes that step towards you again, placing his hands on your hips, and snaking them around to your back to locate the zipper for your skirt. He exhales through his nose, lidded eyes watching the longing expression on your face closely as he pulls down the zipper and allows the article to fall on the floor. His fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he fully slides his hands beneath it, and raises it up your torso higher and higher. You put your arms up and allow him to slip it off your head.

He makes haste of getting his own clothes off, a sly smirk decorating his face when he sees you admiring him from where you sit on the end of the bed as you take off your bra and underwear. You're forced further up the bed by Toji as he inches closer and closer to you. You reach a dead end and welcome the suffocating warmth of his body as he cages you onto the bed.

"Don't do that to me again, mama," he murmurs, before leaning down to peck your lips. "Don't let me talk to myself for that long when you have such a pretty voice to respond with."

You laugh, pulling a small grin from him. "I didn't think you'd care, to be honest. I thought you'd tell me i'm being childish or ridiculous."

"Nah, princess. I thought I was gonna die."

You giggle, pulling him close again. "You're exaggerating."

"You wouldn't let me touch you. Not even when we went to bed, so it was like we were friends instead of lovers sleeping together. Especially with how far on your side you slept."

"Oh, baby," you coo, pressing multiple quick apologetic kisses to his lips. He chuckles at the affection, and his eyes close instinctively as your kisses become more widespread on his face. He missed this more than anything. "What can I do for your forgiveness, my love?"

"Just let me fuck you, ma. That's all. Give me my privilege to all of this, again." His hand slowly trails from your chest to your stomach, a touch you longed for dearly during those two days that you verbally ignored him.

"It's yours," you whisper to him. You peer up at him with your constellation eyes, silently begging him to realize how much you need him. "I'm yours, so show me the use you have for the privilege over my body, baby."

He leans down to kiss you, softly. He's desperate for you, but his lips don't falter their delicate synchrony because of it. He guides the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing up and down the slickness a couple times before slowly sinking into you. Your ability to tangle with Toji's lips slowly deteriorates, and your focus strays to the stretching happening lower down your body, so Toji picks up the slack and feeds you his kisses.

"Come on," he groans out. Not even he is immune to the rebirth of sex with you. You're warm and inviting, and you embrace the pain and comfort he offers every time he craves you or you crave him. This time is no exception. "Kiss me back, sweetheart. Give them all to me," he mutters, before attempting to connect his lips to yours again. You dig your heels into the mattress and your toes curl as you feel his girth continue to submerge inside you.

Toji cups your chin and uses his fingers to squish your cheeks together into a makeshift pout for him to kiss. He can hear your hummed little whimpers in response to him sheathing himself further into you. He was being gentle, because hurting you is a crime in his world.

"Fuck, I missed this, mama," he says, goosebumps rising on his torso as he drags himself out of you halfway and pushes himself back in again. "So warm..." he says over the sound of your pleasured moan. He sighs, a grunt following as he starts a careful rocking rhythm into you. "I could stay inside you forever."

"I could keep you here forever," you rephrase, gazing up at him with those eyes he unequivocally loves. They've reverted back to the default loving expression you hold for him, the vacancy of your previous gaze now filled with love, excitement, lust, and overall enchantment. It's a beautiful thing to see your hurricanes subside.

He leans down to kiss you again, distributing the kisses on your face and leading them towards your neck. You could feel his abs dragging up and down your stomach with every roll of his hips against yours.

"Mmm... Toji," you moan, bringing your hands to his back. One of them moves up to the nape of his neck, threading through the dampened locks of his hair, the other traces his spine to distract you from how badly you want to dig your nails into him.

"I know," he coos, kissing the spot beneath your ear. "I know, doll. It's always this good with you."

You gasp at the feeling of his cock prodding the more sensitive area within you. "Right there, right there... Oh..." you moan out, inevitably digging your nails into his shoulder blades while Toji directs his kisses back up your neck and towards your face again so he can see the honest expression on it. You're lost in pleasure, vibrating as another orgasm rushes through you.

"Fuck, mama.. let me-" he groans, outwardly losing it at the overflow of your juices. "Let me see those pretty eyes," he pants, gripping your waist a little more harshly as he feels his cock on the brink of expelling into you. "Need you to watch me," he says, taking in the way your lips part to release your sounds of utter satisfaction. Your eyes flutter open to center on his greedy eyes. You mirror his lustful, lidded gaze, the look enough to make him spill inside you, making your cunt even sloppier. "You're gorgeous, ma," he says, mindlessly, as he fucks into you with a little more fervor. "Fucking stunning," he mutters through pants, to which you respond with a sly smirk. The gesture lured a groan out of him and made his cock twitch as he finished releasing into you.

You giggle when he stills his hips. Your combined attempts to regulate your breathing fills the silence that follows. "What're you laughing at?" He asks, massaging your hip with his thumb.

"You tell me that all the time like you're obsessed with me or something."

"And if I am?" he says with a voice so deep you have to blink to see that it's still your gentle giant of a man. "Is it too much for you? Can you handle it? Am I suffocating you, baby?" he purrs, cupping your cheeks while leaning in close to emphasize his points. All it does is allow you to closely admire how handsome he is and really think about what's happening in this moment. This green-eyed, raven-haired man, with the prettiest pointed nose and the most attractive scarred lips, is bedding you, and doing it so well.

"Never. Come closer and bite," you murmur.

He takes your lips in his again, a little more aggressive than before. You asked him to bite, and that's exactly what he's doing. The make out has him rocking both of you a little faster, working you towards yet another orgasm. You nip at his bottom lip and run your tongue over it when hisses. You hum out a little giggle, and moan into his mouth when he jolts into you.

"God, i'll bust again if you keep doing that. I'm serious, mama" he groans, swiping his tongue over his stinging bottom lip. You think he's being dramatic so when he leans down to kiss you again, you bite his bottom lip and suck on it. You gasp, releasing his lip and stare at him with wide eyes as his excessive warmth spurts into your cunt, filling it to the brim and beyond, to the point of leakage.

"F-Fuck... you're terrible," he groans, shuddering with tense abdominal muscles as he lures the entirety of his orgasm out. "Cum," he says, panting as he picks up the pace of his rutting to get you to follow his orgasm. "I can feel you clenching around me like hell. I know you want to," he says, reaching a hand between you and him to stimulate your clit.

Your already labored breathing picks up and your heart is pounding in your ears aggressively as you roll your hips back against his. You whimper as you feel your peak get closer and closer, a cried out and breathy "fuck!" leaving you when it arrives, followed by high pitched moans that make Toji's heart race. You arched your back off the mattress as you reached the zenith of your orgasm with the help of Toji's finger rapidly rubbing your clit while he maintained his satisfying pace inside you.

You whimper, slapping a hand onto Toji's wrist to stop his movements on you. He smirks at the sight of your trembling thighs, your heaving chest, and the sound of your dazed hums. You always were such a delicate thing. So fragile that even with just enough of his attention, he could break you.

"Tired yet?" He asks, admiring your relaxed facial features. You nod with your eyes closed, your lips parted to release little puffs of air. "Thought you'd be. I'll go grab some towels for us to shower." He pulls out of you, taking a moment to admire your collaborative masterpiece.

"Baby..." you whine, sitting up when you feel his weight lift off the bed. "I can't get up." You dramatically let yourself fall back on the bed and stick your tongue out to portray your exhaustion.

"Get up, you faker. That's all you have to do and i'll take care of the rest."

"Too tired to wash myself right now..." you say, waking up for a second before closing your eyes again. Toji can see the sly grin on your face and the little shake of your stomach as you stifle your giggles.

"Guess you're too tired to eat, too, huh? You know i've got a huge appetite, and I could eat all that food you brought by myself."

"You wouldn't," you say, abruptly sitting up on the bed and squinting at him. "There's enough to feed three people in those bags."

"I've got the stomach of three people in one, so you better catch up before you're left with my seconds."

You sigh, too tired to move, but you get up anyway and trail behind Toji. "Baby, can you pleeease clean me up? I'm beat."

He puts his hands on your shoulders as he now walks behind you. "Sure, but don't complain when I take longer on certain areas."