#usually it's TAD let's be honest

[patroclusdefencesquad]

if you see me walking down the street headphones in eyes slightly glazed over don't worry about it i've just entered the vivid fantasy world conjured up by good fucking music

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe loves to put his fingers in sensitive!reader’s mouth & her favorite place in the world is his lap...

cw: mean older!rafe being a tease & making her choke on his fingers, heavily suggestive, size kink, use of daddy

wc: 1.6k

in love w this man so more of him on the way xx

this is an additional part to this & u can read more here

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Rafe has had a bad day.   

She notices it immediately by the way he greets her with only a brief peck on her cheek; carelessly throwing his jacket on the couch before slumping down against the cushions and letting out a washed-out exhale.  

For the entirety of the week, gloomy clouds have painted over the dusty, colorless horizon and wet water puddles have saturated the socks of passing pedestrians and dog walkers alike. However, Rafe is not someone who particularly minds rainy days, which is why she assumes that the reason for his disgruntled mood has something to do with business, as it more often than not does.   

He scratches at the buzzed hair still slightly damp from the rain while she simply stands there and blinks; unsure whether he wishes to be alone or not.   

“What are you doing? C’mere,” he suddenly orders in a somewhat of a stern tone and she has no choice but to pad over to his sprawled-out legs, lowering to sit on top of him and letting him paw at her waist as his beefy arms pull her closer. And she can't really complain when the heat of his body seeps into her flesh in such a comforting way; makes her insides feel all fluffy and featherlight.  

In the same way that Rafe seems to enjoy her needing him to take care of her when everything feels like too much, she loves being there for him; likes to feel useful, needed.

“Do you wanna...talk about it?” The muted melody of her vocal cords reaches his ears as vivid raindrops pitter patter against the glass of the windows and he groans in exhaustion at how perfect she is for him.   

“Not really,” he dismisses her with a shake of his head. “How was your day, hm?”  

“It was uh, okay. I don’t know, the usual. Had some boring lectures, almost fell asleep…questioned every decision I’ve ever made,” she huffs out and settles her palms on his strong biceps. 

“Mm,” he’s only half listening; beginning to mindlessly twirl a strand of her hair around his index finger.   

And she takes that as her cue to continue blabbering out complete nonsense as she begins to grow slightly restless being this close to him. Truth be told, she’s pathetically been missing him the whole day; the only thing granting her the motivation to go about her routines being the thought of seeing him at the end of it all. And now that he’s here, he seems frustrated; mind entirely elsewhere and she doesn’t know what to do except ramble on and on about her dull day.   

Then, completely out of the blue, he’s grabbing her jaw into his massive hand and hushing her.  

“Shut up for one second, yeah?” He mutters out before he’s tucking a thumb past her lips; a surprised squeak leaving the back of her throat at the sudden intrusion because he was the one who asked for her to talk in the first place.   

However, she can’t exactly say that it’s unexpected. He often gets a tad bit meaner whenever he’s had a dreary workday and takes it out on her in some form or another. And regardless of how unhealthy all of it might seem, there’s a crooked part of her brain that yearns for it; wants him to come to her whenever he’s upset. If she’s utterly honest, the thought of him searching for solace in anyone else makes nausea creep up her bones.  

For some reason, the firm pad of his thumb making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth placates her; turns her brain into a needy, dingy muddle in a way that only Rafe is capable of.  

“Shit, just needed something to suck on, huh?” He pushes down on her tongue, making her swallow around the digit with a whimper.   

“So fucking pathetic sometimes, you know? Just take anything Daddy gives you,” a low-pitched chuckle thunders from his chest, seemingly amused by the ease in which she gives into him.   

However, there’s also something gooey, syrupy beginning to whirl in the pit of her tummy. It reminds her of the countless times she was perched on the park swing as a little girl during the balmy summers of her childhood; thinking she could reach the fluffy clouds with the tips of her sneakers if only she could fly a little higher.   

“Feels nice to have something in your mouth, doesn’t it?” He ogles at her, mesmerized with intrigue twinkling in the Carolina blue that has always made her think of the sky.   

She lets out a faint moan when he drags the digit out and then back in, making her gag around it; her hips involuntarily rutting against the growing bulge straining against the zipper of his pants, desperate for some sort of friction if even through the soft material of her sweatpants.   

“Didn’t give you permission to move, did I?” He feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows that gets her to reluctantly halt her shifting.   

“Daddy, need your...” Her words are cushioned against the obstacle he’s planted between her teeth. 

“Can’t really hear you, Kitten,” he mocks before he’s pulling the thumb out of her mouth altogether.   

However, the next thing she knows, he’s stuffing in his index and middle finger both at the same time. They reach far deeper; a muffled sound of gagging following his actions as he seems to discover a perverted sense of satisfaction from her struggle.  

"What did you say?" His lips twist into a cruel smirk when she whimpers pitifully and tries to draw away from him in order to catch her breath but his other hand only grips her jaw tighter, keeping her exactly where he wants as she’s forced to breathe through her nose.   

“I think you can take it for a bit longer, yeah?” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he simply stares, seemingly absorbed into the obscene scene before him.   

And she should feel embarrassed, demeaned even. And she does! However, the humiliation of letting him do whatever he wants as if she’s nothing but a cheap toy for his entertainment blurs over the lines when her cunt throbs in response to his degrading attention. She flutters uselessly around nothing; powerlessly begging for some sort of alleviation with a whine that merely earns her a tut of his tongue.   

Therefore, the only thing she can do is sit there like an obedient animal because he’s already scolded her once. She hasn’t turned entirely dumb just yet; knows firsthand how ‘Daddy doesn’t like to repeat himself’ and that the next time she misbehaves will result in a punishment her poor cunt probably wouldn’t be able to handle in this helpless state of hers.  

“Don't think you could take Daddy’s cock even halfway in this pretty mouth,” he mindlessly croons, thumb smoothing over the skin of her throat as she swallows the spit beginning to dribble down her chin.   

The thought manages to pique her curiosity because his cock has been at the forefront of her mind for a couple of weeks now, due to him constantly teasing her with the notion of letting her suck him off properly. He keeps murmuring about training her throat and fucking it raw but never actually doing it; merely allowing for her to drool and mouth over the tip because apparently, she's 'not ready yet'.   

She’s beginning to turn into something desperate because whenever she tries to take more of him into her mouth, he stops her with a click of his tongue and big hands lifting her head off him. “Don’t be greedy now, Kitten,” he’d scold her but she's certain she’s going to die if she doesn’t get to feel his cock nudge at the back of her throat soon.   

“Ray…” she tries to fruitlessly speak but he’s not exactly making it easy as he keeps stroking against her tongue. However, she doesn’t need to say anything. He knows what she wants. 

“I mean, can barely fit into this tight cunt, don’t know why you keep whining about wanting me in this mouth so bad. Don’t think you’d even enjoy it that much. It’s a lot, you know?” There’s something almost patronizing in the way he’s speaking to her as if he’s not the one who brought the idea up in the first place.  

It’s like he’s trying to talk her out of it yet his fingertips keep prodding past her gag reflex every few minutes, almost as if testing the waters before plunging in and it’s making her head spin.   

She whines and tries to defend herself but the digits fussing with the inside of her slobbery mouth don’t allow for her to form anything audible as she begins to grow troubled.  

“What was that?” The line of his mouth curls when he pokes deeper once more, causing her to moan with watery eyes pleading him for anything at this point.   

“Such a dirty girl. Bet you’d like choking on my cock, huh?” He grunts and she hums in response; nodding fervently before he’s finally withdrawing his hand and smearing the spit-stained fingers against her pouty lips.  

They’re both panting heavily as he gently swipes at her under-eyes in order to catch the teardrops ready to trickle down before petting at the apples of her cheeks with a tenderness reserved only for her. 

“Shit, always know how to make me feel better, don’t ya?” He rumbles fondly against her mouth; following his saccharine words with a messy kiss soon after. Maybe he'll finally allow her to have what she so badly craves… 

[her-favorite]

SELFISH; B. EILISH

BILLIE EILISH X F!READER

warnings: SMUT, dom!billie/sub!reader, strap on, degrading, squirting, choking, overstimulation

wc: 2,362

a/n: REQUESTED! the request was made probably a year ago so if you see this, anon, i’m so sorry 😭 but it’s here!!

SYNOPSIS: Billie never liked when anyone got too close to her girl… so when she sees your friend flirting with you, she’s livid..

-

You hadn’t even realized how close you two were. But Billie noticed right away.

Conversing with your friend, Rachel, you chuckle as she tells you a story, your smiling widening. You’ve only known her for a few weeks, but you both had coincidentally saw each other at the bar you and Billie had visited.

You had went up the bar to grab a drink or two for you and your girlfriend, but Rachel’s voice had called out to you, quickly grabbing your attention. Only a few minutes had passed, but your girlfriend was practically seething.

Billie sat at your table, watching with a clenched jaw and tight fists. Blue, piercing eyes noticed your every movement, while also analyzing the other woman, trying to figure out the girl’s motive. Billie could tell the way the woman was flirting with you; her posture was relaxed, her eyes were half-lidded and that sultry smile playing on her lips. But you didn’t even notice. Billie could tell you chalked it up to a friendly interaction. And, usually, she wouldn’t be so jealous.. but she just couldn’t stand the way that girl was practically all over you.

The music blared loud throughout the club, drunk strangers mingling with others while occasionally tipping over their drinks and dirtying the already gross floor. You had to shout to Rachel - though, if you were honest, you wished to return back to your girlfriend.

Before you could try and deter the conversation, you felt somebody walk behind you. Turning your head as you feel the warmth radiate off of them, you’re met with Billie. Your lips curl up in a smile as you see her, realizing she’s here to save you from the never ending interaction you’re having with Rachel. That thought lasted only a few seconds before noticing the way her jaw clenched and the glare in her blue eyes.

“Uh, hey.” Rachel mumbles, silently irritated with the way the other woman saddled herself beside you.

“We’re leaving.” Billie spoke with authority, her eyes watching you. She noticed the two drinks in your hand, the ice slowly melting as time passed by. Her dominant tone spoke to you, revealing her anger. You were in for it tonight..

“Hey, you can’t just take her from me!” Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed as she crossed her arms over her chest. Though, her confidence dwindled slightly as she saw the menacing look in Billie’s eyes.

“Yes, I can. My girl’s coming with me.” She states, leaving no room for discussion. Pulling the drinks out of your hands, she places them back on the bar before grasping your wrist and darting out of the club. You let her drag you as you know better than to argue. When she got in a mood like this, nothing could change her mind.

Throwing the door to her car open, she manhandles you inside as you huff out a breath of air once you get tossed on the passenger seat. As Billie shuts the door, she rounds her car and gets into her side, putting it in drive and quickly making her way down the abandoned street without uttering a word. Your window was rolled down a tad as the fresh air blew through the space, ruffling your hair as the car vibrates from the bass of the music playing through Billie’s radio. You let the wind cool your skin, as you know you’re gonna be sweating in the next couple of minutes once she takes you how she wants.

Pulling into her driveway, she parks as she shuts her car off, glancing over at you. “Want you on my bed, naked.” Billie demands, her eyes showing her dominance. You felt a shiver pass down your back at her words, your thighs clenching before you open your side door and rushing towards her front door. Throwing it open, you barely greet Shark as you dart to her room. Stripping yourself of your outfit, you toss it on her floor, slipping your panties down your thighs. You could already feel how wet you were as it collects. Situating yourself on her soft mattress, your thighs shut tightly together, begging for some sort of friction. A fleeting thought of touching yourself appeared before quickly dissipating. If you did that, your punishment would only be worse.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you hear the door squeak. Your head immediately shifts to the sound, watching your girlfriend make her way inside. She ignores you as she tosses off her jacket, throwing it on the back of a chair. Her baggy jeans hang at her waist as she takes her plump bottom lip between her teeth before looking over at you. Her eyes alone make you clench around nothing, that look in them sending chills down your spine. Her blue irises looking over your naked, needy form, her own arousal intensifying.

“Bein’ such a good girl, listenin’ to me.” Billie praises as she walks over to her bed, standing by the foot of it. You swallow harshly at her words and the way she carries herself. “Now, why couldn’t you have been like this earlier, huh?” She mocks, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. She wasn’t looking for an answer from you, it was obvious. But you had to try.

“No, Billie, please! I thought she was just—” You start to try and explain, but she clicks her tongue, cutting you off.

“I didn’t tell you to speak, did I?” Billie glares. You shake your head, shrinking in on yourself. Your hands lay in your lap, fidgeting as they plead to reach out for her. But you knew better. “Didn’t think so.” She adds. She pushes one knee up on the bed as her hand moves to your bare chest, pushing you back onto the mattress fully. “Lay down f’me.” She mumbles as your back hits the soft covers.

Her soft palms glide up your thighs as goosebumps follow in her wake. Whimpering out her name, Billie smirks. She presses her short nails down into your skin as they guide themselves up, the subtle pain making you gasp.

“Fucking whore, letting another girl talk to you like that.” Billie tsks disapprovingly, slapping your thigh. The pain sinks in as you whimper, looking up at her. She leans down as her soft, pink lips meet your neck, pressing simple kisses against your skin. As she descends farther down, her kisses get wetter and sloppier, occasional bites and licks startling you. She fervently leaves marks on your neck, down to your breasts as she claims you, showing everyone else that you were hers, and only hers.

Her hand reaches up, traveling along your skin before forcefully gripping your breast as her mouth occupies the other. The pressure makes you moan as your face scrunches slightly.

Her lips soothe your other nipple, wrapping her warmth mouth around it as she sucks on it. The sensation makes your back arch softly, pushing into her mouth. Her hand squeezes you harshly again, inaudibly telling you to behave. With that, her teeth nip at the sensitive area, eliciting another noise from your lips. She chuckles lowly against your skin, looking up at you. “Such a needy girl.” She mumbles, moving herself down your body.

“Please, Billie!” You exhale, breathless. Your body was aching for her, begging and pleading for more. You lean up on your elbows as you look down at her as she resides between your spread thighs. Billie was always beautiful, but the way she looks between your thighs, devouring you, was a sight like no other.

“Quiet.” She states, glaring up at you. Your pleas die in your throat as you immediately shut up. Your eyes never falter as they watch her, swallowing dryly.

A moan was ripped from your throat as she suddenly lurches forward and licks a line up your slit, gathering your wetness on her warm tongue. Instinctively, your thighs tighten around her head, caging her in. “You wanted her to fuck you, huh? Wanted her to touch you like this?” Billie mocks as her hand moves in front of her face and between your thighs, collecting your arousal. Before you could respond, she plunges two of her fingers inside you, leaving you gasping as your eyes shut tightly.

“No! No, I don’t!” You cry out, your breath stuttering as you look down at her. She doesn’t let you get used to the feeling as she immediately moves her fingers, the skilled digits already brushing by the spot inside you that drives you crazy.

“Mhm.. she can’t make you feel the way I do, mama.” She rasps, her sultry voice only making you moan louder. Billie’s fingers hit that spot, resulting in your back arching off the bed as her lips join, enveloping your clit in her pretty mouth. “‘M’all you need.. ‘cause you’re mine.” She all but growls, before sucking harshly as the messy sounds of her fingers echo through her room. That was what it took to make that band inside your stomach break as your thighs shake and cage her in, cries leaving your lips as you release all over her fingers.

Helping you ride it out, Billie’s eyes take in the way your face scrunches in pleasure before your body goes limp. A whine leaves your lips as she doesn’t stop her movements.

“Bils, it hurts! ‘M’too sensitive.” You slur out, eyebrows furrowing as your lips are yet to close. Looking down at her, you notice that look in her eyes, telling you this wasn’t the end. Another whimper parts from your mouth as you feel her fingers curl inside you, her perfect tongue swirling around your clit again.

“You’re gonna take it like a good girl.” Billie states, not letting you respond. “You wanna be my good girl, don’t you, baby?” She adds, her lips curling up as you immediately nod.

“Yes! Wanna be your good girl, Billie.” You cry out, her fingers already dragging another powerful orgasm out of you. The feeling felt different as you tried to warn her, but before you could, the dam broke as the liquid gushed out, dousing her chin and shirt. She eagerly lapped at it, moaning quietly into the mess of your release. You whine immediately as her fingers stay inside you, trying to pull away.

Thankfully, Billie carefully pulls them out. “Made such a mess, ma. Dirty fuckin’ girl.” She clicks her tongue. Throwing her shirt over her head, she tosses it on the floor beside her bed. There was a wet spot on the comforter underneath you, but you were too tired to notice it. Your chest heaved as you cracked open your eyes, instantly looking her body over as she kneels on the bed in just her baggy jeans. If you were honest, you noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra when you both had left earlier, chalking it up to her teasing you. You were totally right.

She crawls over you, kneeling between your still quivering legs. Grabbing your hand, she pulls it to her crotch as you gasp. “Fuck, Bils.” You exhale, feeling the strap-on that you hadn’t even realized she had clasped to her. The smirk on her lips made you weak as your hand rubbed at the bulge.

Billie moves your hand as she undoes her belt, the clanking sounding through her room. The noise sends a chill down your spine, your arousal already collecting again.

As she unzips her jeans, she tugs them down and tosses them. The sight of her bare body makes you whimper as your eyes take in her beautiful form, before landing on the strap. As your hand reaches for her, she grabs your hand before you could touch her. “Such a naughty girl tonight; not listenin’ to me.” Billie shakes her head, putting your hand back on the bed beside you. A whine leaves your lips needing her now. At your impatience, her hand glides up, slinking around your neck. “‘M’gonna fuck you so good you’re not even gonna remember who you were talkin’ to tonight.” She hisses as she moves her hips forward, the tip of the dildo tracing along your slit before circling your clit.

A choked cry leaves your lips as Billie pushes in, filling you up. “Fuckin’ take it, slut.” She degrades, giving you just a second to adjust before moving her hips back until the tip only resided in you before thrusting forward harshly. Your body jolts at the action, your eyes shutting tightly as a loud moan leaves you. You could feel her palm squeeze your neck as she develops a rhythm inside you, taut muscles in her arms bulging as she holds herself on top of you, the sight only bringing you closer to the edge.

“You can give me another, mamas. Know you can.” She grunts out, her hips smacking as your body moves with every one of her thrusts, your breasts following the harsh treatment. Tears form in your eyes as you’re brought closer and closer to the pinnacle of pleasure, overflowing down the sides of your face as she makes your chest heave.

“Please! Please let me cum, Billie!” You cry, a sob leaving your lips. You look up at her as she moves inside you, her breasts touching yours from how close you two were. You try to plead more, but nothing else comes out besides whines and incoherent words. A low chuckle reaches your ears as you feel your face heat up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You think you deserve it?” Billie taunts, her hips never relenting their torture. You nod immediately, wanting - needing it. “Yeah? Then cum.” She demands. As if on cue, your body convulses as you scream out, your hands instinctively reaching out for her as your nails dig into her back, showcasing your pleasure. As your release over the silicone, your thighs shake slightly as you come down from your high.

You whimper softly as she pulls out, your body spent and exhausted. Your hairline has built sweat as time went by, your entire being limp and tired.

“Wake up, baby. We’re not even close to being done.”

[yandereend]

Yandere Househusband

How he met his spouse

TW: usual yandere stuff, male yandere, obsessive behavior, yandere wants children

Please keep in mind that English is not my native language thanks💛

P. 1 please let me know if you want more

P.2💛

Doesn’t everyone just hope to one day find the perfect partner and settle down with them, start a family and live happily ever after. Thats exactly what our little Tyler always wanted.

Tyler came from a nice home, he was an only child but his parents had a lot of love for him, and even more for each other. He always admired his parents relationship, his father being the strong breadwinner and his mother being the docile housewife. It was the perfect relationship in Tylers eyes and there was nothing he wanted more than to have that too.

In school Tyler couldn’t care less about his grades, it’s not like he was incapable of learning, quite the opposite but he didn’t see a reason to spend his time learning about math or physics if he wanted to be a househusband anyways. Thats right my dear readers Tyler was just waiting to find the right spouse to settle down with.

So for that reason alone he always made an effort to appear put together and pretty in school, he was lucky to have enough confidence to not let others opinions about his appearance affect him. So he was always helpful, nice and friendly to everyone. But even with his best efforts he couldn’t find the one. Thanks to his obsessive nature he often over thought his love life and if he will end up alone. (Your in 10th grade chill dude)

All that until the greatest day of his life were he met you. You were the new student and he immediately volunteered to show you around, became your partner in assignments and your new best friend.

To be honest you were smitten by Tyler, nobody gave you that much attention before and it wasn’t long before the schools pretty boy was your boyfriend. Tyler was thrilled that everyone in the school knew that you were his and he yours. And oh dear how Tyler admired you, you were so attractive, strong, smart and capable. He was so excited to finally settle down (dudes only 17), after graduation.

And Tyler always wanted to impress you, he would join his mother while cooking making sure to pack your lunch, clean your room while he visited you and even did your laundry. Wait didn’t you have more underwear?

And in exchange he just wanted to be pampered back. He would give you his bag if it was heavy, would depend on you for homework and always expected you to stand up to the jocks when they made fun of his more feminine clothes.

And oh did I mention that Tyler was a little bit manipulative, just a tad bit but I mean why would you need friends, you can go shopping with Tyler. Your family goes on vacation? Ditch them and go with Tylers family instead, they have the money don’t worry. You should also consider his parents, they were so supportive of him and you, his dad even showed you the family business if you wanna inherit it.

So when your graduation day finally came you and Tyler hosted a party together, and after you had a few drinks Tyler dropped on his knee and asked the big question, to which you in your tipsy state happily agreed.

So don’t be surprised when 2 months later Tylers parents bought you two a house (yes they’re that rich), your Tylers dads new intern and your lovely fiancé plans the most romantic wedding ever. And hey, there’s no escaping now darling.

Thanks for reading please let me know if you enjoyed it 💛

[suntoru]

─ ✰ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

— synopsis: 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔, the popular guy in your class, chooses to sit next to you, of all people. you've fallen head over heels, what happens next?

�� warnings: highschool au! angst, fluff in the beginning, will not be writing a part 2, swearing, gaslighting, betrayal, just a bet troupe, gojo being a dick or everybody generally, 3.4k words!

— a/n: not my proudest work to be honest :( also tried another formatting lmk if u liked it! comments and reblogs r very much appreciated i will love u forever

"yo. can i sit here?" gojo satoru grins, effortlessly sliding into the empty seat next to you and making himself at home.

...huh? isn't that the popular guy who's usually surrounded by his friends? he's constantly the subject of admiration among the girls in your class, eliciting swoons and whispers of infatuation wherever he goes. confusion creeps in as you wonder why he didn't choose the empty seat next to suguru. there's no conceivable reason for someone like gojo, popular and charismatic, to opt for the seat beside you. you feel a sense of self-consciousness settling in.

nevertheless, you nod softly, though you're well aware the question was more of a rhetorical one. he's fashionably late, by twenty minutes, to be precise, unabashedly ignoring the scolding glares from your teacher about punctuality. instead, he buries himself in the deep blue plastic seat, sticking his tongue out when the teacher turns his back, letting out a huffy pout from the lecture.

nervously, you glance up from your notebook, cautiously stealing a peek at your new desk buddy. he's pretty─ real pretty, snowy white lashes adorning his pretty cerulean spheres, dainty fingers idly spinning a pencil out of sheer boredom. and as if kissed by the blush of a gentle sunrise, his lips possess a natural rosy hue, smooth and plump, belong to him like a delicate work of art. you wonder just how many kisses they've stolen. caught in a moment of admiration, you find yourself staring a tad longer than socially acceptable.

his eyes flicker, locking onto yours, and the realization hits you—oh, he caught you staring. shit. immediately, you break eye contact as you cough awkwardly. you swiftly attempt to play it off, pretending as if you were engrossed in examining the intricate texture of your silver-grey desk instead. your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you hope he hasn't interpreted your lingering gaze as anything more than idle curiosity.

...should you say something? try to deny you were very clearly eye fucking him? he probably thinks you're a freak now. perhaps he sat next to you out of pity, and now he regrets it. out of sheer embarrassment, the words die in your mouth before they could ever leave, keeping your gaze glued to the floor as you refuse to acknowledge that his presence ever existed.

however, it appears that gojo won't let you suffer the embarrassment in peace. when your stern teacher turns away, he subtly slides a ripped edge of his blue-lined paper towards you, bearing a simple 'hi :)'. he's attempting a conversation, a surprising but welcome distraction from the awkwardness of being caught staring. an opportunity to salvage a bit of your dignity. now, the challenge lies in crafting a response that strikes the right balance.

would 'hey' sound too dry? but 'heyyyy' makes it seem like you're a little too interested. you opt for a casual 'heyy' with your black pen, scribbling the reply with extra caution to avoid prying eyes. as soon as the teacher is out of view, you subtly slip the note back to gojo. his lips curl into a slight smile upon reading your response.

two minutes pass by before you get a response. 'do you get this lesson? i'm soo lost..' accompanied by a small doodle of a crying suguru. you can't help but stifle a giggle; the drawing is poorly done, yet undeniably cute. the teacher swiftly turns around at the sound, prompting both of you to scramble and make it look like you're diligently focused on the lesson. the suspicious gaze lingers for a moment before the teacher returns to the whiteboard.

'maybe it's cause you missed like, half of the lesson.' you write back. he rolls his eyes playfully upon reading your retort, swiftly countering with a pout. "it's not my fault this class is so boring.'

'who said philosophy was supposed to be fun?' you reply. in response, gojo eagerly accepts the note, maintaining the subtle exchange of eye contact. 'hey, be nice to mr. aristotle, he's a great guy :(' he sends back. and thirty minutes seem to pass in the blink of an eye.

the bell chimes, signaling the end of the philosophy session and the need to transition to your next course. reluctantly, you stow your textbook in your bag, feeling a twinge of sadness at the realization that this amusing interaction might have been a one-time occurrence.

it's been a while since you've genuinely laughed. so when his ocean blue eyes latch onto yours with a genuine sense of hope, you quickly fold when he asks you if you're interested in sitting with him again tomorrow.

in those thirty short minutes, you learn three things about gojo satoru. firstly, you realize you've sorely misjudged him. he's not just another nepo-baby cheating his way through school; he's actually quite smart, smarter than he lets on. he's especially good in biochemistry, and he promises to help you study next time.

secondly, you discover that he loves sweets, just as you do. you both agree that kikufuku mochi is better than strawberry dango, and he even tells you about his favorite shop. maybe you can go together sometime.

and thirdly, he doesn't tell you this outright, but you learn that gojo is insecure. what strikes you the most is the glimpse of uncertainty you catch beneath his confident exterior. it's not about his looks or intelligence, but it's actually about his relationship with suguru. he's afraid to lose him, a fear that seems to drive him more than anything else. he overcompensates for his self-doubt. but you find that his flaws make him all the more pretty.

it's peculiar, the speed at which gojo somehow effortlessly integrates into your daily life. how he's feeling is how you're feeling, which is usually reflected on his friendship with suguru. if they had a fight, he'd be sad, and if everything was alright, he was too. but either way was okay with you, you just want to be there for him. what was once a dreaded fourth period now stands as the radiant highlight of your entire day.

despite the limited instances of verbal communication —perhaps a mere once or twice— the inexplicable truth remains: you've fallen head over heels for him. the simple act of passing notes with satoru becomes more than a routine; it evolves into the sole force that awakens you in the morning, the singular thought that propels you forward and keeps you going throughout the day.

and just maybe, the hopeless romantic within you fervently clings to the belief that his sentiments go beyond mere friendship. his actions seem to carry an extra layer of care, an attentiveness that extends beyond your platonic friendship. he notices the little things that escape the notice of others. it wasn't lost on him when you shed tears the other night due to the weight of stress; he went out of his way to procure your favorite candy bar, a sweet gesture aimed at brightening your spirits.

he took notice of your new haircut, expressing in a note that it frames your face nicely. he had comforted you when a classmate aimed a subtle insult your way, he wrote that the words of someone whose foundation didn't match their face shouldn't hold much weight. he even made an effort to be punctual for class, all to engage in the shared exchange of silly notes with you. and honestly, even if he didn't like you back, you'd be fine.

because your heart swells with gratefulness at the fact that he chose to sit with you. he wanted to be your friend even when nobody else did. you trusted and loved him with your whole heart, because that's what you believed he deserved.

so imagine your surprise when you overhear his conversation with suguru that day.

"just a day more, then you win the bet." geto groans, tossing his head back in exasperation. the two of them linger in the now-empty classroom, the echoes of other students long gone.

"yep, twenty four hours, then you owe me three hundred dollars." satoru sings, playfully nudging his best friend's shoulder. he's all sunshine and smiles, swinging his feet from the desk he's currently sitting on.

"and it wasn't even that hard. i just had to get 'em to fall for me." suguru rolls his eyes. "dude, if i was you, i would've tapped out the first week. how'd you manage to do it?" he huffs, clearly annoyed at the impending financial loss.

satoru mischievously grins. "just used my charm." he fluffs his hair with a smug expression on his face. "can't believe it worked so fast, though. they must be real desperate for someone's attention. all it took was for you to fuckin' pretend like you cared." suguru grouches, being a sore loser. you don't hear the rest, the notebook you had lost long forgotten.

a lump forms in your throat, a sensation of dread creeping up on you. you desperately want to believe he's not talking about you, but you can't shake the realization that to him, you were nothing more than a pawn in a bet— a tool used for his amusement. you're overwhelmed by a sense of stupidity, a painful realization sinking in, drowning every rational thought.

he never cared. you could fall dead at this moment and he wouldn't even spare you a glance. you should've known. why would he? you feel stupid for allowing him entry into your life, stupid for naively believing in his sincerity, and stupid for daring to love a heartless jerk who played with the fragile strings of your heart.

they're right. you are pathetic. you just blindly fell for the first person who gave, or rather, pretended to give a shit. a relentless ache throbs in your chest as you stubbornly refuse to succumb to tears over a boy— a resolution crumbling like fragile glass. despite your stubborn determination, an uncontrollable torrent of hot tears streams down your face, distorting the world into a watery blur.

the desperate yearning for someone to choose you, to envelop you in unconditional and pure love, had fueled your hopes. and for a fleeting moment, you believed you'd found it, only to witness your heart being ruthlessly trampled blue. clutching onto the tattered shreds of your dignity, half-broken and bleeding, you muster the strength to leave swiftly before they catch a glimpse of you.

the bitter taste of betrayal lingers in the air, each teardrop is a testament to the shattering of dreams, the dead hope that once soared. the yearning for a love that stands unwavering proves to be a mirage, leaving you grappling with the shards of a love that was never truly yours.

that day, you learn one more thing about gojo satoru. he's just like everybody else.

cerulean eyes, like pools of shimmering azure, flicker with concern as they scan the empty seat beside him. minutes stretch into eternity on the clock, each tick of the second hand amplifying the weight of his worry. nine twenty morphs into nine fifty pretty quickly, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. at this rate, you'll only get in twenty minutes of 'talking.'

you're always punctual—eight fifty-five on the dot. but today, the clock ticks on, and there's no sign of you anywhere. his brows furrow with concern, a nervous flutter dancing in his stomach. did something happen to you? the mere possibility sends a pang of anxiety through him, and he fidgets restlessly in his seat, unable to focus on the lesson before him.

yet, when his gaze shifts to meet suguru's, he swiftly masks his apprehension with an air of nonchalance, as if feigning indifference to your absence. but inwardly, his heart races as he anxiously awaits your arrival. when you finally walk in, he's already scribbling furiously on a piece of paper, filled with questions about what could have delayed you today. yet, as he extends his hand to pass you the note, his eager smile fades into confusion and disappointment.

you walk right past seat thirteen, your usual spot, without so much as a glance in his direction. instead, you approach a random girl and ask if you could sit with her. his heart sinks, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks as a torrent of thoughts flood his mind. is something wrong? are you upset with him? he replays every interaction in his mind, searching for any misstep. but he can't find one. he's been careful to maintain the perfect facade when you're around. perhaps you simply forgot, he reasons with himself, attempting to quell the rising tide of hurt and confusion.

yes, that must be it.

...just a simple oversight.

"hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!! just wait a moment!!" gojo's voice cuts through the chatter of students eager to leave as soon as the bell rings. he grabs your wrist, his touch gentle yet firm, halting your attempt to blend into the rush. his heart races in his chest, the sudden surge of adrenaline making his palms clammy.

"um... you didn't sit with me today." he mumbles, the words coming out in a rush, his voice tinged with uncertainty. his fingers toy with the ring around his finger, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggles to find the right words to continue the conversation. he doesn't like the way you're looking at him. there's a flicker of irritation in your gaze, a departure from the usual warmth and affection that he's grown accustomed to. normally, when his eyes meet yours, your cheeks tint pink, your pupils dilate, and you give him the cutest starry-eyed look. but not today.

"yeah," you mutter casually, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. there's a certain coldness in your eyes that sends a shiver down his spine. you're about to leave again, but he moves to block the door, a frown creasing his forehead.

"did i do something wrong? i don't understand why you're suddenly acting so bitchy," he huffs, irritation lacing his voice. the words tumble out before he can stop them, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "no," you reply simply, your tone devoid of any emotion, as if you genuinely don't care. it stings his ego, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"you can 'use your charm' to make a new friend. since it's so easy for you, right?" you mutter, your voice trembling with suppressed anger. you promised yourself you'd hold it together, but the wound is still raw, etched deep into your mind as a flush of resentment rises within his eyes widen in shock, a pang of guilt stabbing at his heart. you heard that? no, no, no... he hadn't meant for you to be there. he had been so careful, or so he thought.

"i didn't mean it, i just-" he stutters, desperately searching for an excuse, but he knows it's futile. there's no chance you'd believe him now, would you? his heart sinks. he doesn't want you to hate him. "i was easy, right?" you laugh bitterly, each word dripping with sarcasm and pain.

"i hope that three hundred dollars was worth it. not that you even needed it, though. you think toying with people is fun? you're a dick, satoru, go to fucking hell." you hiss, your words laced with venom, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "let me explain-" he protests, desperation evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. but you're too angry to even consider it.

"explain? explain what?'" you explode, your voice rising with each syllable, oblivious to the judgmental glances of passersby. you scoff, tears threatening to spill over.

"i didn't mean it," he cuts you off, his own voice strained with emotion. "you're my friend, i just—" his voice cracks. "friends don't manipulate other people's feelings." you interrupt, your voice laced with venom as you spit out each word. you're aware you look like a mess, mascara staining your cheeks. "friends don't trick and hurt you on purpose!" you yell, tongue dripping with malice. "and here's the thing. you may be the greatest, satoru, but you will never, be enough. not for suguru, not for anybody."

you almost regret saying it. targetting his biggest insecurity. but then again, he deserves it. "how could you say that?" his voice is broken, quiet, as he mumbles it out as a whisper. the eyes that you once found so stunning suddenly look just like everybody else's. they well with tears, but are quickly blinked away. "you don't get to cry, satoru," you scoff, unzipping your bag and opening the front pouch.

you toss all the letters you've written in class, all the sticky notes, every single ripped paper, every little doodle, flipping your bag over and emptying it on the floor. every single heart fluttering moment you experienced seems so dead now. "you don't get to act like you cared. it's only fair, after all." you manage to muster, fighting to keep your voice stable. tears drip down your chin as your bottom lip trembles.

every step feels like a battle, a relentless tug-of-war between what your heart wants and what your mind knows is right. leaving him behind is like tearing off a piece of your own soul, but you convince yourself it's for the better— for your own sanity, for your own self-respect. each stride forward is heavy with the weight of goodbye, each breath drawn in a struggle against the ache in your chest. and as you finally turn away, a part of you dies inside, a piece of your spirit crumbling in the wake of shattered trust and broken dreams. you can feel his eyes on your retreating figure, the silent witness to your silent agony.

this time he doesn't try to stop you. and when you leave, gojo finally allows himself to cry.

today, gojo finds himself seated next to suguru, reclaiming his former spot from before the bet. yet, everything feels different now. the idiotic jokes his friends make just aren't as funny anymore. their presence is irritating to him. he laughs, but the sound lacks the same genuine joy it once held with you. he smiles, but it's a mere shadow of the radiant expression he wore in your presence. his heart may feel a fleeting sense of happiness, but there will always be a hole where you once were.

his so-called 'buddies' don't even notice that he's at his lowest point, and he can't help but think about the way you would've noticed immediately.

how you would've sent him a cute note with his favourite candy attached, because you kept them in your bag just for him, for these kinds of days. he feels so numb. he's always been so confident, yet he can't even muster up the courage to pass by your desk.

and he can't help but wonder what might have been if he had chosen differently that day, if his intentions had been pure from the start. would you two have gotten somewhere? he supposes that now, he'll never know the answer. his eyes cloud over at that thought, slouching back down into his seat.

he never had the chance to tell you how sorry he was, how he would take it all back in an instant if he could. he didn't mean to hurt you. he was stupid and careless. and yet, he tries to convince himself that he'll be okay. that he'll be able to get over you one day. one day, when he's married and has two kids, he'll look back at this and laugh. so then why does his heart feel so heavy? you're not suguru, it's true. but suguru never made him feel this way. and he's confused with his own feelings.

he doesn't know what love is.

he's only sixteen.

perhaps he'll never know. but for him, love was sneaking kikifuku mochi into class for you to share. it was sending you cat memes at three am in the morning, only for you to groggily respond with your own. it was doodling you in his notebook in his spare time. it was how what you were feeling was how he was feeling too.

you were right, it seems.

gojo satoru, the greatest, yet not enough to make you stay.

© KAEFFEINEE 2024. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[rizzkisworld]

♡°Morning Kisses♡° - Nishimura Riki

pairing: fem!reader x bf!riki | wc: 1k | genre: fluff!!!

note: birthday fic for my lovely friend @yuniniverse !!!! (suprise for the other birthday girl later!!)

It was early in the morning, the soft glow of the sun beginning to creep through the curtains, casting a gentle light across the room. As you slowly awakened, the comforting rhythm of your boyfriend's soft breaths filled the air beside you.

His hair was tousled and messy, falling over his eyes, yet he still appeared breathtakingly beautiful in the muted morning light. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, captivated by the way his lips slightly parted as he slept, a peaceful expression resting on his face.

Turning your attention away from the sleeping figure beside you, you knew you needed to get up to prepare for classes. The thought of school weighed heavily on your mind because let’s be honest, it was a literal pain as usual. The endless assignments and early mornings felt overwhelming.

Yet, as you glanced back at your boyfriend, you remembered the way he always supported you, offering those sweet words that always made the tough days a little more manageable. It's something about his presence that always helped you through the tough times.

Anyways, the hardest part about getting ready was always the fact that Riki had a tight grip on you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. Every morning, you’d find yourselves tangled in the sheets, wrapped in each other’s warmth, and it was hard to resist the comfort of his embrace.

His arms felt safe, and the way he held you securely made it nearly impossible to break free without a hint of reluctance. You loved his cuddles, but right now, his grip was keeping you from moving in the slightest.

Slowly, you tried to gently remove Riki’s arms from around your waist, careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber. But as soon as you shifted, he instinctively pulled your body impossibly closer, as if he sensed your intention.

His warm breath tickled your exposed neck, sending delightful shivers racing down your spine, igniting a mix of warmth and frustration. “Baby.” you mumbled, caught in the soft haze of sleep and affection, unsure if you were trying to wake him up or simply savoring the sweetness of saying his name.

At this point, you knew the only way to get him to let go was to wake him up. “Riki.” You raised your voice just a tad, infusing it with a tone that was stern enough to hopefully wake him from his dreams.

Nothing happens. You call his name a few more times, hoping he wakes up. Finally, on the eighth call, he's awake, his eyes blinking slowly open. “Good morning, baby… what’s wrong?” he murmurs, his voice a delicious mix of sleepiness and depth that sends a flutter through you.

“I need to get ready for school. Can you let me go?” You turn your head just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. He takes a moment to process your words before he responds.

“I don’t know… can I?” he teases, a playful smirk forming on his lips as he notices your annoyed expression. A soft chuckle escapes him, adding to your annoyance. “Will you let me go?” You correct your grammar with a roll of your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“You know I can’t do that,” he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Then, as if to seal his playful defiance, Riki leans in, placing a tender kiss on your neck and trailing soft, lingering kisses up to your cheek. Each gentle press of his lips sends a wave of warmth through you, making it even harder to leave his embrace.

Each kiss was intimate, making you crave more and more of his lips on your skin. “Hm? Cat got your tongue?” Riki whispers playfully in your ear, his breath sending delightful shivers down your spine when he notices the silence that follows his teasing. You gather yourself, remembering what's important right now.

“I really need to get ready, though,” you say, pouting, knowing the effect that has on him. You know he can’t resist your cuteness, how every little gesture draws him in further. His eyes sparkle with affection as he takes in your beauty and you relish the way his gaze softens, knowing that you hold his heart in the palm of your hand.

“Okay, but under one condition,” Riki says, a playful spark lighting up his eyes. He caresses your cheek with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter, his fingers warm against your skin, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. With a gentle yet firm motion, he turns your entire body to face him, his gaze holding yours with intensity that sends your pulse racing.

He cradles your chin softly, ensuring you can’t look away, his touch both reassuring and intimate. “I need my morning kisses,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth, filled with a playful urgency. Before you can even process his words, he leans in, closing the distance between you, and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is soft and tender, yet it carries a hint of longing, as if each moment shared is a cherished secret. As he mumbles softly into the kiss, your only focus becomes him. The thought of school fades away as you gladly melt into the kiss.

Your lips collided with his, warmth coursing through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. One of his hands found its way to your face, gently cupping your cheek, while the other stayed around your waist, making sure you had no chance of escaping.

The sensation of his soft pink lips on yours was intoxicating, a perfect blend of sweetness and flirtatiousness that felt as if the world around you had melted away. You were too far gone to care about the morning breath, all you wanted was him.

He broke the kiss, trailing soft, lingering kisses down your jawline and then to your neck, each touch igniting a cascade of warmth inside you. When he looked back into your eyes, a tender smile graced his lips, illuminating the morning with an undeniable glow.

"I love you so much, pretty," he murmured, his voice a gentle caress that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. He leaned in for one last sweet kiss, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that lingered long after he pulled away.

"I love you too," you whispered, your eyes locked with his, feeling as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you in that moment. "Have a great day, my love," he replied, the warmth of his gaze enveloping you, leaving you motivated to go on with your day.

[dyaz-stories]

you know my tongue is a weapon || gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: Shoko suggests a study night, but Gojo's bored and he doesn't want to study. So, instead, he offers to play a game, when all the others have left to get some food: every time he gets an answer right, he gets a kiss.

As you soon find out, Gojo can be very good at studying, as long as he gets something out of it.

word count: 3.8k

genre: college!AU, mostly fluff i think

cw: kissing, making out, semi-public kissing, unresolved sexual tension, reader is insecure and is therefore an unreliable narrator, dry humping ig, fem reader (the word girl is used once)

a/n: first time writing for jujutsu and for gojo! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy yourselves :)

soundtrack

prequel

Exam season is never a fun time to be on campus. Stress fills the air, the hallways, the always full libraries, even the coffee shops where people usually meet to relax between two classes. It’s the only conversation subject between sleep-deprived students, looming over their head threateningly at any time of the day and night. It’s stifling, a weight on their chest that never quite wears off.

As for you, well, you’re doing alright.

Oh, for sure, it’s a lot of work, and you’re not thrilled about it by any stretch of the imagination, but academia is your thing, so you don’t find it nearly as crushing as others do. You’re more terrified of the time period that comes afterwards, while you’re waiting for the results like Judgement day.

In the meantime, you’ve given up on trying to find a spot to study in the library, and you’ve been doing most of it in your small student room. You haven’t stepped outside in days when Shoko texts you to suggest a study night. You suspect that she hasn’t started working and intends to cram, but you take her up on the offer nonetheless.

You show up at her place right on time — you always are — with your notes and some snacks. You wait quietly after knocking, trying to make sense of the chatter you hear on the other side of the door. She had mentioned she would ask a few other people if they wanted to join, which you had assumed would be fine, but faced with the reality of it now you can feel a lump growing in your throat. Academia might be easy for you, but people… aren’t.

When the door opens to reveal Gojo Satoru, piercing blue eyes meeting yours through white locks of hair that he pushes out of his face a second later, you fully consider turning around and leaving.

“You made it,” he says, shooting you a wide grin.

“Hi,” you squeak in reply.

Gojo is a… friend. Ish. Kinda. You think. Well, he’s a friend of Shoko’s, anyway, so the two of you have hung out, socially, before. Up until last summer, you assumed he didn’t even know your name.

“Thank God you’re here,” Shoko says, appearing from behind him to grab your hand. “No one here wants to work. We need to whip these imbeciles into shape or something.”

“I’m working,” Nanami sighs from the table in the living room, where he’s sitting alone.

“I was just waiting for everyone to be here, Shoko,” Geto says, his voice soft and even, as he approaches the table.

You set your bag down, giving Nanami an sympathetic smile, and he pushes his glasses higher on his nose. When he nods at you, you’re pretty sure it’s a silent way of saying ‘thank you for not leaving me alone with them’.

“What are you guys starting with?” you ask, pulling some books out of your bag.

Everyone here has different majors, but with some classes in common. You’re not sure how efficient this enterprise is going to be, if you’re completely honest, but as Gojo lets himself fall on a chair with a dramatic sigh, you suppose it can’t be worse than if he was left to his own devices.

“I’m doing literature, algebra and physics tonight!” Haibara announces, perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. You don’t want to crush his hopes and dreams, but—

“You’re never going to get through all that in one night,” Nanami says with a frown.

“Don’t listen to him”, Gojo intervenes, “you can do anything you set your mind to.”

There are stars in Haibara’s eyes when he looks at him, but you notice the glances Gojo is stealing at Nanami, and the way his smile widens when Nanami grits his teeth in annoyance. You bite your lip so you don’t let out a chuckle.

“Do you want to start with literature with me?” you offer. “Nanami, you’ll have to handle algebra because I’m not taking any algebra classes this semester.”

The corner of Nanami’s lips curves to form a smile.

“It’s good that someone here is taking this seriously.”

“Ugh,” Gojo mutters. “Fine. Hey, Suguru, do you know what tests I have next week?”

Nanami buries his head in his hands with a pained groan, and you laugh again, lump gone from your throat now, as you move your chair to come sit next to Haibara. Gojo’s eyes follow your movement silently. When you lean over the same textbook as Haibara, shoulders brushing against his as you push a lock of hair behind your ear, his expression turns thoughtful. It’s only when Geto drops a book in front of him that he snaps out of it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do shots instead?” he asks, tone sour.

“Man, don’t tempt me,” Shoko whines as she sits down as well. “The shots will have to wait.”

Truly, Gojo thinks, sadder words have never been spoken.

Nanami calls it quits right before 10 pm. He’s tried to leave a few times by then, usually because of one of Gojo’s quips, but Shoko’s managed to keep him around until then. It doesn’t help how delighted Gojo gets by his reactions, and you can’t blame him for abandoning you. You don’t doubt for a second that he would have been much more productive without everyone else around.

“If they pass their exams, we should give ourselves all the credit for that,” he comments at your intention, right before walking out the door. “Good luck with them.”

Then he’s gone, before Gojo can start to protest about why he is not getting any encouragements, even though he’s suffering so much, and everyone is mean, and nothing about this is fun, and—

Haibara, despite his best intentions, falls asleep on the couch less than thirty minutes later. It was just supposed to be quick nap, but by midnight he’s still down, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up. Plus it’s not like you were making a lot of progress with him anyway, so he just might be better off sleeping.

It’s not long after that that Shoko starts to get real antsy. So far, she has kept on track despite Gojo’s attempts at distracting her, but you can tell she is starting to get incredibly bored. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to be Gojo’s case, even if the way his leg bounces underneath his chair tells you he’s itching to do anything other than sit here doing nothing.

“Fuck it,” Shoko says, finally giving up. “I’m going to get something to eat.”

Geto frowns.

“Now? Alone?”

“As if anything would happen to her,” Gojo says, spinning a pen between his fingers. “She’ll be the scariest person out there.”

Geto rolls his eyes.

“I’ll come with you,” he tells Shoko, and she shrugs. “Do you want to come too, Satoru?”

Gojo lets himself fall down on his chair, looking at Geto with his head hanging behind the back of the chair.

“Nah,” he says after a few seconds of intense deliberation. “Can’t abandon the teacher here.”

You feel your face heating up.

“Oh, I mean, I’m sure I’ll be fine. If you want to go, you should—”

“It’s fine,” he handwaves your protests away. “I’ll finally get some work done without Shoko here to constantly distract me with—”

He bursts out laughing when Shoko throws her pen at him.

“We’ll be right back,” she announces, standing up. “You,” she points at Gojo, “play nice. And you,” she gives you a severe look, “don’t hesitate to hit him. I’m not joking.”

She leaves the room, escorted by Geto. Haibara doesn’t even stir when the door slams.

“Alright,” Gojo says, not wasting a second to reach for your chair so he can pull you closer to him, “it’s my turn to get my own personal tutor.” His fingers brush against your leg as he pulls you in, and you know, from how his eyes seem to drink in everything about you, that he doesn’t miss your quiet gasp nor the way your breath quickens. You’ve noticed this before, too. If he likes annoying Nanami, he seems to delight in your reactions at least as much — though he tries to make you laugh or to fluster you rather than piss you off.

“Um,” you say, with the eloquence that characterizes you around him, “what do you need help with?”

He tilts his head to the side as he studies you. You find him breathtaking, you always do, but you think you’ve gotten better at hiding it, so even if it feels like he’s looking right into your soul, you give him an easy smile.

Somehow, he is the one who ends up averting his eyes.

“How about philosophy?”

Right, the two of you share that one class on the history of ideas.

“Sure,” you say, already grabbing a book and thumbing through it. “I’ve taken quite a few notes for that class, actually, I can give them to you if you—”

“That’s boring,” he interrupts you. “We should do something else.”

You put down your book, intrigued, and something twists in your stomach when you see the look he’s giving you. He’s like a cat with a mouse, with exactly the same hunger in his eyes.

“What—” you clear your throat when your voice cracks. “What are you suggesting?”

“Well,” he leans forward, resting his elbow on the table and putting his chin in his palm, “I need an incentive to work, you know?”

You swallow. Sure.

“So how ‘bout I get a kiss for every right answer I give you?”

And you almost choke on air.

“What?” you manage to croak. Blood is rushing to your face, and it feels like your brain is short-circuiting. Your heart’s beating faster, hammering in your chest, and you feel your palms grow sweaty.

“C’mon,” he teases, reaching out to pull on a lock of your hair and twirl it around his finger, and you know, you know, he knows he’s got you right where he wants to, “help me study.”

“Gojo—”

“Satoru,” he all but purrs.

“Satoru,” you say, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he blinks innocently. “Just trying to find a fun way to study.”

You examine him carefully, try to figure out what, exactly, is going on behind these beautiful eyes of his. You’ve had— moments, with him. He fell asleep on your shoulder in the car once. He held your hand through a busy festival, teasing you about not wanting you to get lost, and later helped you get on his shoulders so you’d get a better view of the stage. The one time you agreed to accompany Shoko to the club, you remember his hands on your hips, his breath against your ear, the ghost of his lips to your neck. But nothing actually happened between the two of you. You’d told yourself that it was all a distraction for him, that he didn’t want more.

This isn’t exactly confirmation. You don’t doubt that it’s all in good fun still, and knowing you, and how hard you tend to fall, you should walk away while you have the chance.

But you really, really want to kiss him. Want to know what it would feel like to taste his lips, to have his body pressed against yours, to feel his hands all over you.

You always take the smart decision. This is not the smart decision. But…

“What if you get it wrong?” you ask.

Satoru blinks.

“You can, uh, spray me with a water bottle?”

You let out a brief laugh.

“Isn’t that a dog thing? That feels unethical, Satoru.”

He preens at your use of his name.

“You should take your chance,” he drawls. “Shoko says it’s really cathartic.”

You’re not sure you need catharsis, but you feel a little lighter now. It’s all a joke to him, clearly, and from what you’ve seen in the past couple of hours, he hasn’t seriously studied once. He’s not going to get the answers right. You don’t think he’s even trying to.

“Fine,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, reaching out for a water bottle and positioning your chair so you’re facing him. “Who came up with the notion of civil disobed—"

“Thoreau, 1848, but the essay was republished with that name in 1866.”

You stare. Gojo gives you a lazy smile.

“Now where’s my kiss?”

“Um,” you say. You feel incredibly awkward now. He’s leaning back against his chair, with eyes that have not left you once since he’s suggested that idea. You— have to move, now, don’t you?

Very slowly, very hesitantly, you push yourself to your feet. Satoru doesn’t move at all, and you don’t know if it relieves you or stresses you out even more. The position is quite uncomfortable, too, with you standing and him sitting down. You don’t know that you’ve ever towered over him like that. Gingerly, you put a hand on his shoulder, and then you’re leaning over him, and then you’re kissing him, and then you’re moving away as fast as you can. This was just a peck, really, a press of your lips to his that lasted a second, tops, and that you’re already trying to forget about.

You’re not a teenager anymore, and you know this shouldn’t be getting to you that much, but it’s— it’s Satoru Gojo. You’ve worked very, very hard not to think of him like that, because you didn’t want to let yourself get hurt. And now, you’ve let yourself be dragged into this so easily? Ugh. You wish you could slap yourself.

“Okay,” you say, voice more high-pitched than you’d like, but still understandable, which you’re grateful for. “Next, um, can you explain what philosopher kings are?”

Surely—

“Of course,” Satoru pretty much sing-songs. “Plato thought that cities should be ruled by trained philosophers, because only a philosopher would know and act for the good of a city.” There’s a brief pause, before he adds, “Aristotle thought that was bullshit, though. For the record.”

And then he waits. You narrow your eyes at him.

“When did you study for that?”

“I never study,” he answers lightly.

Instead of standing up this time, you scoot your chair closer to him, and you lean forward. Satoru chuckles, but humors you — even if the temptation of leaning further back to make you come to him, because you’re just adorable when you’re flustered, is great. This time, when you kiss him, though, he presses forward before you can move away, his nose brushing against your cheek as he chases after you. And oh, what a sight you are after that, wide eyed, lips parted, hands tightening on your notes.

“Next?” he asks.

“Right,” you say. You’re— not sure what’s happening here, to be quite honest. Should you stop this? You— don’t think you want to, but you’re also not sure what this charade is all about. “Um. Spinoza thought that free will—”

“—could only be reached through knowledge, and that most people never obtained it.”

Okay.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a physics major?”

He raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely amused.

“Determinism’s a pretty big deal in science, actually, but let’s not change the subject here.”

You bite your lower lip, and his eyes track the movement like he’s starving for you.

You’re feeling hot all over, anticipation burning inside of you, and this time, you can’t pretend that he hasn’t done this on purpose. That he wanted to kiss you. You can’t quite reconcile the way you see yourself with that thought — how could Gojo Satoru want you, of all people? — but you find that it doesn’t matter.

You lean towards him once more, and this time, you let yourself kiss him. Really kiss him. You press your lips to his, soft at first, but when you don’t move away immediately, you feel him pressing against you, one hand coming to cup your cheek. His teeth pull at your bottom lip, and you let out a involuntary gasp. He doesn’t waste the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, and you keep inching closer to him, hands coming to his shoulders for support. You can feel yourself melt into him, and you curse your common sense when it leads you to break away from the kiss.

It doesn’t deter Satoru, though, because as you do, his hand slides under your knee, and next thing you know, he’s pulled you into his lap. His face is deliciously flushed, pink hue under the pale skin. He looks up at you, long fingers tightening around your thighs.

“We should waste less time like that,” he says.

Shoko likes to say he’s insufferable, and you can see why. Everything all seems to come so easy to him, and you’re defenseless against the way your heart races. When his eyes are on you, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. You’re not usually the type to indulge in that idea, but, ah, what’s the harm, as long as you know how to come back to earth later on?

You shake your head as you take him in.

“How are you even doing that?” you ask, mildly peeved.

“Haven’t you heard?” he grins widely. “I’m a genius.”

You roll your eyes at him. You’ve heard about that, of course, about how he maintains stellar grades without breaking a sweat. You just hadn’t seen that in application until now. In class, he’s usually asleep, or taking great joy in bothering the teacher. You’ve never seen him try to get something.

“Well, where’s my question?”

You sigh, putting your arms around his neck. You left your notes on the table, meaning that you might be less prepared than he is, actually.

“Descartes famously said—”

“Cogito ergo sum. C’mon, rational doubt is at the heart of science. I’m starting to think you’re just trying to kiss me.”

You do want to kiss him, but you have the self-control to shrug.

“Well, if you don’t want to—”

His mouth is on yours before you can think of how to end that sentence. He kisses you hungrily, hands gripping your hips as he tries to pulls you closer to him. Your chest presses into his, and you tighten your hold around him, fingers running through his hair. He grunts when you pull on it slightly, tilts his head back a little more to give you better access to his mouth, and when his tongue brushes against yours once more, you can’t help but to rock your hips against his. The friction makes you gasp into his mouth, and one of your hands falls down to his shoulder, fisting his shirt as you try to find better support.

“Fuck,“ you hear him mumble underneath you, right as you feel him grow hard. He pushes up against you. His fingers dig into your skin, one hand slipping under your shirt to run over your skin, leaving a trail of fire behind. It moves higher, brushing against your bra.

Against your better judgement, your hands travel down his body, tracing over his muscles. You feel him twitch under you, and when you roll your hips once more, with much more intent than the first time, he groans.

“Satoru,” you whisper, though even you don’t know if it’s a plea for him to stop or to keep going.

His eyes widen, and you feel him lift you up easily, pushing you onto the table. You lean back slightly, resting your weight on one hand. He’s red all over now, from his ears to his neck. His pupils are wide, his lips swollen, his hair messy. He looks like sin.

You don’t want to think about what you look like.

“C’mon,” he says. “Last question.”

“Haibara’s in the living room,” you point out. Even you know where this is leading.

“He’s dead asleep,” he merely shrugs. He’s mesmerizing, but you note that the glimmer of amusement that always dances in his eyes. This feels— serious.

“Um,” you say, licking your lips and watching how he bites his as his grip on your waist tightens once more — like he’s holding himself back. “Confucius—”

And then, the front door opens.

Gojo clicks his tongue and reluctantly steps back as you jump down from the table, beelining for the bathroom — you know that kiss is written all over your face.

You glare at yourself in the mirror. Your body’s still tingling, and you’re aching with want, now that release has been denied to you, but you know better. You’re supposed to know better. You take a few seconds to comb through your hair with your hands, and when it no longer looks like someone’s, well, kissed you senseless, you cautiously step back outside.

“We got you some fuel,” Shoko announces loudly, before getting shushes by Geto. He points in Haibara’s direction, who’s started snoring slightly.

“Thank you so much,” you say sweetly. “I’ll— Why are you wet?”

Gojo deadpans as he looks at you but, well, there’s water dripping from his hair, down his chin, and onto the shirt your hands were fisted in just a few minutes earlier, so, you think the question is valid.

“He was splashing water on his face when we got here,” Geto supplies helpfully. “Gojo runs hot.”

“And now it’s all over my floor,” Shoko mutters. “Next time, just wait ‘til the bathroom’s free, huh?”

Gojo looks like he has something to say just on the tip of his tongue, but he glances at you and seems to swallow it back.

“If anything, I made it cleaner,” he proclaims, leaning back on his chair. “Shoko, how long has it been since you cleaned in here? We really need to find you a partner who’s willing to do that stuff, otherwise you’ll keep living in fil—”

Shoko’s pencil case lands right in the middle of his face.

“You absolute brat,” she spits out, “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to tell me something like that when you rely exclusively on Geto to—”

The bickering continues, but you tune it out. Under the table, Satoru’s knee brushes against yours. It’s almost hesitant at first, before he leans his leg against yours, when he realizes you’re not moving away. This isn’t the smart choice, either, but, ah, you’re always, always the smart girl. Is it so bad to have a night of fun? Is it so bad that you want to know what it would feel like to have him, even if it’s just once?

He’ll break your heart, the voice of reason says in the back of your mind, but then Satoru looks back at you, checking to see if you’re laughing at how he’s making fun of Shoko and, well.

You think you’ll let him.

Any and all feedback in the form of asks, reblogs, comments, tags is highly encouraged and appreciated~ If you enjoy my work, interactions are what keep me writing and motivated!

I haven't written anything in months and I think it shows but, well, I have to restart somewhere lol, so I hope it was still fun for you and you enjoyed yourselves here for a little while. Thank you for reading <3

prequel

[rotthepoet]

In love with your writing, specially bsf!theo. I’m in such an angst mood. Everyone knows we’re in love with Theo and he’s in love with us besides the two of us. Longing with fwb to lovers? Maybe some more smut if you’re feeling spicy?

IN LOVE WITH YOU, POOKIE!!! If theres one thing I know how to do its YEARN and LONG so lets hope that translates into writing 🙏 it’s been a hot minute since I wrote an actual fic, and i took a few liberties with your rq, so please let me know how you feel about it!

Notes: i typically write for a gn!reader, but I really hope everyone can forgive me for writing in a FEM perspective today. It just makes writing smut a tad bit easier on me(an afab person)

Content warnings: As always, Hogwarts University AU, Characters are all 18+, Draco Malfoy calls Nott a fat ass(degrading eating habits, commenting on working out), Theo’s mom is dead, mutual pining but being too stupid to figure it out, crying during sex but not in a hot way(no safe word used/tech needed), angstyish to comfort, use of drugs(weed), SMUT, oral(fem receiving), kinda proofread? Please let me know if I miss anything major.

Things only got more intense as the… situation went on. Hooking up had become significantly more common, almost a daily occurrence. You found your mind drifting to Theodore more often than not, thinking about how disheveled his hair looked in the morning, or how the first words he mumbled when he saw you today were “Hello, beautiful”.

Your thoughts never strayed too far from Theodore, and to be honest, it felt like he never strayed too far from you.

In the most recent months, it felt like you two had become inseparable. That’s not to say it was a bad thing at all, oh no in fact, it made you quite happy to know he was around. He was your friend after all. The sex-thing, as you opted to call it, was just a benefit you both indulged in time to time.

Of course, neither of you dared to openly admit your scandalous behavior together. It wasn’t anyone’s business, even as Theodore had started seeing less women and spending less nights out partying. It wasn’t anyone’s business when Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulder while walking around Hogsmeade, or when he smiled at you when you weren’t looking. It wasn’t anyone’s business whenever Theo stopped sleeping around completely, and it certainly wasn’t their business when he beat the shit out of one of the Weasley twins for accidentally catching you in the crossfire of a loose prank.

It wasn’t anyone’s business besides the two of yours, and for the most part people had began to ignore it, except for a select group of close friends.

A day didn’t go by where you weren’t pestered by one of Theodore’s friends. They collectively figured that you were more likely to break under pressure than Theo was. It was ruthless.

Draco Malfoy stands at the front of your desk, glaring down at you. “You know you’re just another one of his phases. He does this. Falls helplessly in love with a girl, dedicates his entire time to her, only to remember he isn’t built for that life. It’s about time you save yourself the trouble. I’m only trying to help.”

Not everyone was as terrible as Draco, thankfully.

Mattheo Riddle would approach you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, putting on his most convincing Theodore impression. “Ciao, Bella,” even his most convincing impression wasn’t very good, “My room or yours?”

Sometimes you play along, running your hands over Mattheo’s in a way that makes his skin prick with goosebumps. “I was thinking we could do it on Matt’s bed again.”

That usually get’s you a hard shove away if Theodore hadn’t already spotted the situation.

Lorenzo Berkshire isn’t as insistent, just staring at the two of you, raising a brow whenever he finds you hand in hand. He draws a huge smirk on his face every time he sees you alone.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“You mean your boyfriend? I see the way you look at him, don’t play dumb Enzo.”

He doesn’t like that game as much. Usually scoffs and ignores you.

Then there was Blaise Zabini.

Blaise Zabini.

He knows more than he should. Far more than he should. He watches. He listens. He knows. He perceives.

The first time Blaise found you asleep in Theo’s arms, it was early in the morning. Their little clique never missed breakfast together unless something drastic had happened. So, whenever Theodore didn’t show up for breakfast, Blaise volunteered to check on him. Only Draco questioned it when Blaise grabbed a plate and two muffins(“Those are practically cakes, Nott’s fat ass doesn’t need one to begin with, let alone two! Doesn’t even show up to quidditch practice anymore.”). Draco was ignored.

“You’re going to lose her if you keep acting like this, you know that right?”

Theodore tries to ignore Blaise as best he can, he really does. He traces his fingers over your hair softly, watching you dream.

“Just tell her, Theo. What are you so scared of?”

“Drop it, Blaise.”

“No. You obviously love her, you’re obviously in love with her!”

“Lower your voice-“

“Why are you so scared? Is it your father, Theo? Is it your-”

“I mean it Zabini, drop it.”

The room goes eerily quiet as you shift slightly in Theodores arms. It lasts for only a moment before your breathing returns to the deep, rhythmic patterns.

“Get out.”

Blaise didn’t brother bringing it up after that. He knew what was going to happen, and he was going to let it play out. It wasn’t his business, after all.

Your friends weren’t much different. You stopped hanging out with them as much, not on purpose at all, but it didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe one or two of your friends resented Nott for it, “He’s a playboy, everyone knows that. I don’t like how close he’s getting to you.” Or “You aren’t… sleeping with him right? Please tell me you aren’t.”

Both you and Theodore laughed endlessly about every comment. It was silly. I mean yeah, you two fuck, but you’re just friends. You’re just friends, and friends can totally cuddle each other to sleep, and friends can totally kiss without sex. Its not a big deal! Its not a big deal as Theo almost pukes every time he says, “You’re my friend, I’d tell you if anything changed.” And it’s not a big deal when your chest aches as you say “Same here. It’s not that weird when you think about it.”

It wasn’t a big deal the first time you cried during sex. It wasn’t a big deal when he pulled out immediately and held your face, asking what he can do for you to make it better. It wasn’t a big deal when you sobbed in his arms for hours, chest hurting because you loved him so much and you knew you could never say anything. It wasn’t a big deal when Theodore kissed your mouth shut when you tried to apologize. It was a big deal though. It was a really big deal.

It was a big deal when you wrote your name next to Nott like a child. It was a big deal when you kicked your feet in bed thinking about how he called you pretty. It was a big deal when he kissed your cheek so absentmindedly that it felt natural. It felt right.

It was a big deal, and it hurt so bad.

But you could manage. Look at how strong you are. Look at how composed you are. You knew that one day all of this would come to an end, and you were okay with that! It was something you knew you could one day stomach, so for now, you didn't let yourself worry about it.

What you worried about instead, was how fine the object of your affection looked tonight.

Theodore was dressed to the nines. Black slacks, a loose button-up shirt, and those eyes that undressed you no matter where you were. He was gorgeous, and he knew it. You looked wonderful too, showing just enough skin to keep Theo on his toes.

Slytherin winning the house cup was a moment to be celebrated, the common room decorated and loud music playing from every corner of the room. You and Theodore spent every moment together, laughing whenever someone dared approach either of you for a dance.

Smoke curled out of Theodore's lips as he snuffed out the filter of a joint you had shared. He grinned at you, and you smiled at him, and everything else faded away.

Time slowed down, and Theodore's smile fell.

"I want to be with you, this summer."

And you laughed and smiled, nudging his arm slightly. "Well, all you need to do is invite me to your summer home in Italy, and I promise I'll spend every day with you."

"No. I want to be with you."

And for a moment, it felt like everything was still. Theodore looked so scared, and you looked so scared, and your mind was fighting the high to fully understand and process his words.

"With me?"

"With you."

You bit the inside of your cheek, almost not realizing whenever Theodore groaned and stood up.

"Theo."

"Fuck. I knew this was a bad idea."

"Theodore."

"I'm sorry. I knew we shouldn't have."

"Theodore Nott, look at me right now."

And he did. He looked at you so sadly. It made your heart ache.

"I want to be with you, too."

It felt like a brick that sat on your heart had finally been lifted. You laughed at the smile that spread across his face. You laughed as he pressed sloppy kisses against your lips. You laughed as he picked you up, kissing you stupid as he carried you to your room.

The weed still made your mind and body buzz with a high, and fuck, every touch felt better than ever before.

Your back hit the mattress, and Theo climbed over you. He looked so handsome, and you felt so pretty the way he looked at you. His hands worked at your dress, pulling you into a deep kiss as he found the zipper in the back.

Your hands gracelessly unbuttoned his shirt, whining into the kiss as you struggled. Finally, with a small chuckle, Theo offered to help you. His hands worked smoothly, pulling his shirt off his shoulders.

"You're stunning."

"Take a look at yourself, cara mia."

Theodore pushed you back down, gripping your hips as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. You laugh, resting your hands over his, feeling just how wet you are between your thighs. You lean your head back, sighing softly as Theo drops to his knees.

Nothing else mattered when Theodore's tongue found your clothed pussy. His strong and veiny hands pushed your thighs further apart, and pathetic mewls spilled from your lips as he licked you.

Theodore continued to tease you, a grin plastered to his face at every moan and whine you let slip out. He licks over the lace of your panties, daring to suck on your clit through the soaked fabric. Pleas spill from your lips, and Theo can't bite back his groan as you tug on his curls.

Dead eyes look up at you from between your legs, and Theo pulled away just enough to remove the lace hiding your heat from him. He blows on your wet folds, pulling your thighs to his shoulders.

"I think I could stay like this forever, right here."

You roll your eyes and sit up, pulling Theo up just enough to admire his wet face. "I think I'd miss your face too much," you laugh, leaning in and kissing his lips, shivering as you taste yourself on him.

"I have a few other positions that I wouldn't mind staying in."

You push away his smirking face with a laugh, gasping for air suddenly as his mouth finds your clit. Gasps turn into soft whines as his tongue moves across your pearl, your hips jerking and shifting at each motion. You can feel his smirk as he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

"Theo," You whine out, but he silences you with a long finger prodding at your entrance. He shushes you, planting wet kisses along your thigh. "I know, bella, just take a deep breath. 'Gotta stretch you out all the way."

A needy moan slipped from your lips as a finger slipped inside of you. You could hear how wet you were, and Theo pulled back just enough to watch the digit disappear inside of you. He pressed a second finger in, carefully spreading them inside of you.

"So soft. So pliant."

His whispers made your legs shake as he stretched you out thoroughly. The knot in your stomach grew tighter, and it became almost unbearable as his lips found your clit again. He was slow, savoring the feeling of your legs shaking beside his head, and the feeling of your walls clenching around him.

Ecstasy flooded your mind before you had a moment to think about it. Theo groaned into your cunt, committing the taste to memory. He continued working his fingers in and out of your cunt until you were shaking in overstimulation, only then finally freeing himself from between your legs.

"You have one more in you, right? Can't get enough of you, cara mia. Will never have enough of you."

[applecrispy]

Oct. 2 ; Begging

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Male! Reader x Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games)

HEADS UP!

Second Kinktober prompt, set! Enjoy this drabble

Ended up being a bit sweeter and not too 'begging' as the prompt said, but hey! There's always another chance to re-write this after kinktober!

Also, ignore the fact I haven't posted day one yet ajdhkcjks I'll probably post it later since I'm a tad stuck on it.

And how out of practice I am in writing- but I swear, all my thirsts will (hopefully) get better overtime!

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂

Finnick moans, his hands claw at the kitchen counter top as his boyfriend pounds into him from behind. He aches a bit, but god it's amazing and worth it all.

He had teased (Y/n) earlier today, he was in the mood, and seems like (Y/n) was as well after having Finnick drop to his knees and suck him off from under their dinning table. He wouldn't admit it straight up, but Finnick has been itching for his lover's touch since a few days ago when (Y/n) had returned from his trip to District 13 to check in. The kiss they shared at the station, Finnick liked it a bit too much, maybe he missed (Y/n)'s lips against his, the gentle touch on his sides, how he didn’t push him-

"(Y/n)- baby, fuck!" Finnick chokes out, another moan leaving him.

His chest felt cold from being pressed against their marble counter, but (Y/n) simply continued to piston into him. A hand gently holding his thigh up to the side, granting him a new angle, and Finnick felt his legs shake, and at some point he's pinned to the counter. He can barely keep himself up on the floor, and (Y/n) seems to notice because Finnick yelps briefly as he's flipped over and he's now with his back to the counter, staring up at (Y/n) as he hikes his legs up. Now presented with a canvas, Finnick reaches up and wraps his arms around his boyfriend's back, moaning as he tries to bite the noises back by biting his bottom lip.

His hair is disheveled, messy, and not in the usual styled and seductive manner that his ex-stylists used to fix it into, but rather into something raw and honest. His fingers draw down (Y/n)'s back as he shudders and soon sputters on a noise and breath.

"Another- inside, please-" Finnick begs quietly, he doesn’t care how he aches faintly from the past three orgasms he's already had which have stolen all the air from him, he needs another load inside of him. One more.

(Y/n) smiles slightly, both love and pure unadulterated adoration, and he leans down to groan into Finnick's ear "You want another inside? And here I was thinking of pulling out and finishing all over your thighs instead... why so desperate?" He teases, and Finnick scoffs as much as he can before he breaks into a choppy whimper mixed with a moan "I- Oh right there... There! Nail right there!" He can't help but purr out, and when (Y/n)'s thrusts slow and intentionally miss, Finnick is digging his face involuntarily into (Y/n)'s neck "Please- please please... So good, please, inside. Another, right... right tHE-" his words are cut off and hit a high as he throws his head back, and if it weren't for the gentle hand on the back fo his head that stops the movement by catching his head and curling a hand into his hair, Finnick would've slammed his head open. But he's too lost to properly adore the action, instead he only lets out a heavy, and noisey high pitched moan.

(Y/n) had shifted his thrusts, and was now thoroughly fucking into him, right into his prostate as he had asked, and the tease just chuckles breathily.

"There?"

"Yes... Yes! Please inside, inside." His last few words mold into messy shapes and noises, still coherent in a sense, but debaunched with his ecstasy. He lets out another softer whimper, and Finnick swears this man is the only one who has been able to reduce him to these honest words, begs, and noises. He's a mess, but shit it's so nice.

It doesn't take too much longer, and (Y/n) gives a small tug to Finnick's hair, reeling his mind back to quickly ask for honest confirmation "Inside?" And Finnick can't help how he begs.

"YES! Inside, inside, please- please (Y/n), need it. Please, need to feel it, feel you-" and Finnick is cut off with a yelp and moan as his hips are grabbed and he's pulled down to be plush against (Y/n)'s hips. He shudders as a weak orgasm leaves him, untouched, oversensitive, and the feeling of being filled and pumped with a orgasm once more in him, Finnick lets the fingers he hadn’t noticed that dug down (Y/n)'s back fall lax.

He lets his expression drop, content as he bathes in the after glow, breathing in heavily as he lets out weak little noises. He gently holds onto (Y/n) as his partner seems just as breathless as he is, pulling back to smile down at him as Finnick feels his heart briefly flutter at how he looks at him.

"Seems like you've missed me." And Finnick groans in complaint and jokingly tries to shove (Y/n) away with a little tired grin on his own face "Oh piss off!" He scoffs out a playful laugh despite how breathless it sounds, quickly diving in to kiss (Y/n) once more in something sweeter.

Yeah, he had missed him.

[elenadvrx]

let's be honest.

nanami's tie isn't what we would usually choose to wear with a suit. or with anything at all. that design is just horrendously loud and bold.

but the reason why he willingly wears it everyday to work is of course, because of you. what turned out to be a gag gift becomes something he treasures the most just because it was given by you when your relationship was still buddingly new. it's not often he loves and be loved in return.

"nanamin!" yuuji greeted the sorcerer from afar, seeing him standing around the training field. "what are you doing here? gojo-sensei isn't here today, he had a mission to attend to."

"i'm waiting for someone else." he nonchantly replies, adjusting his tie to loosen it up a little.

"hey, nanamin? i've been wondering why you wear that tie. it's not really that nice-looking." during all those times yuuji went on a mission with nanami, his gaze always zeroed in on his black and yellow printed tie but never got the chance to ask him. curses always did occupied most of his time and attention.

"hmm? oh, you don't need to know that." clearing his throat, he fiddled with his tie a little more before placing his hands in his pants pocket. but if yuuji had looked closely, he would see that his cheeks got a tad bit pinkish. nanami was just too bashful to talk fondly about you to yuuji.

just as yuuji was about to shoot another question, nanami saw you turning around the corner - wide smiles and twinkling eyes, hastily making your way to your husband. "kento!"

it's as if you turned off a switch in him just with your mere presence - tensed shoulders relaxing, his stance a little loose before his eyes soften seeing you greet him so openly with love. a slight smile grazes upon his lips.

"hi, you look beautiful as always, my love." nanami cups your face with his big, warm hands before giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"thanks, darling. you look dashing yourself." you were all smiles and giggles as you look up to him, getting your fill of him as it has days since you've last seen him. he has been away for a solo mission far from home. you've missed him too much.

looking down, you noticed his tie was loose and a little crooked. sighing, you trace the pattern on his tie before straightening it a little.

"i don't get why you're still wearing this tie. it's been years since i've gifted you this as a joke, you didn't really have to wear it. i'm getting you a new one soon."

you've been dating for 6 months when you came across this particular tie while walking through a shopping street and thought it'll be funny to see the reaction of the mostly stoic sorcerer. you never thought he'd accepted it with care and wore it everyday.

"it's fine. it's still not too worn out yet, it'll hang on for awhile more." he caresses your cheek, reminiscing the time when you were so excited to gift it to him, giggling the whole time. sure, it may be a gag gift, but it was still a gift from you. all things given by you were things to be treasured. just like your love that encompasses his whole being.

"nanamin!" the both of you flinched hearing the shout coming from the boy just a short distance from you. has he been here all along?

"you- you and sensei are together? wha-when, ho-what? wait, nevermind that, sensei was the one who bought you that tie?" seeing how flabbergasted yuuji was, you face him and ruffle his hair.

"mhmm! we're married actually. and yeah, i bought the tie to mess with him but i guess he really liked it and wore it ever since." chuckling, you nudge his shoulder with your knuckles. "i didn't know you were here. megumi and nobara was looking for you."

"oh, that's right! we had plans to hang out together before i saw nanamin. see you both!" easily distracted, yuuji dashed towards the main entrance, leaving just you and nanami alone.

familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind before you felt a kiss on your cheek.

"just so you know, i will always wear this tie even if you buy me a new one. it really helps with my cursed technique." your husband is teasing you.

"uhuh, sure. if blood gets on it, you're cleaning it up yourself." you stay contently in his arms, warm afternoon sun softly beaming down on the both of you.

—————//—————

"if blood gets on it, you're cleaning it up yourself."

your words echoed inside your head as you find yourself kneeling on a pool of blood, your husband- what was left of him, blood-soaked khaki pants adorned on a pair of legs, clutching onto the black and yellow printed tie that was found dangling from his pants pocket. it was speckled with blood.

your vision turns blurry from tears constantly trickling down your cheeks, splashing onto the blood below you.

no… the first thing you would do once this is over is to clean his tie as thoroughly as possible. you will not let this incident taint your precious memory of this gift.

but first, you have to finish whoever did this to him.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Bad Weather LADS Drabbles

Word count; 837

Warnings; fluff, reader is scared of bad weather

Notes; hey guys! I thought I'd just post something small and I've never tried my hand at drabbles before, so I hope they're actually decent enough. I'm also not sure how long they're supposed to be or if this is classified as a scenario instead? Either way, I felt bad for not writing anything new in my one-shots this week, so I hope a random little drabble will suffice!

Either way, I was just a bit inspired since I have a tad bit of bad weather coming my way (mostly just thunderstorms and high winds, a storm surge from the hurricane but it's not going to come anywhere close), and I was inspired to write since I don't particularly like bad weather. Big things in the sky scare me, to be honest.

Anyway, yall be safe out there if there's any bad weather near yall and I hope you have a good day/night!! 🩷

Sylus

“Hmm?” Sylus would wake up in the middle of the night with you in his arms, trembling from the sound of rain harshly hitting the windows. Wind whistling and whipping while your head was buried in his chest. 

“Kitten?” He would chuckle. “You're a mighty and proud Hunter, but this is what scares you?” 

A flash of light illuminates the room and your nails bite into the skin of his shoulder. 

Sylus would count out-loud how long it took for the lightning to follow behind the thunder. The low timber of his voice helps you calm down with your ear against his chest. 

His arms would tighten around you every time you jump from fear. 

“Calm down now, sweetie. Do you want me to have Mephisto fly out there and check the damage? Or should I have Luke and Kieran go out there and stop the storm?” 

A small caw is echoed through the room– a sign that Mephisto clearly did not want to go outside. 

You would laugh and shake your head. The thought of the twins trying to physically fight the storm, and Mephisto being blown around in the high winds, calms you down to where you can finally fall back asleep. 

Rafayel

“Hey…the studio isn't going to flood or anything right?” You would be worried, having heard on the news that Linkon would be hit with the storm surge coming off a hurricane. The hurricane wouldn't hit Linkon, however you were more worried about tsunamis– especially when you were at Rafayel's studio on Whitesand Bay. 

“It better not.” Rafayel would grumble as he tried to quickly put away any paintings he really cared about. “But if it does, you'll be safe by my side.” 

“That's…very reassuring..” you would say, not feeling very reassured because what could Rafayel do? He couldn't very well tell the raging waters to just stop…or could he?

As you excitedly turn around to ask Rafayel this, he puts his hand up in front of him. “I know what you're going to ask and my answer is no.” 

“Aw..” You would sigh before you'd nervously look out the window, keeping a close eye on the distant tide and the clouds in the sky. 

“Cutie..–” Rafayel tugs on your arm to pull you away from the window. “Seriously, don't look outside. You'll just stress yourself out, Miss Hunter.” 

He mischievously smiles, “Come on, let's go paint something together to pass the time or…I could distract you.”

Xavier 

“Xavier, does that cloud look weird to you or is it just me?” You would squint up at the sky, staring at the large bundle of clouds. “Mm…it's called a wall cloud.” Xavier would say from your couch, fingers tapping against his phone. 

“It usually means thunderstorms are on the way, and it can cause tornadoes.” The silvery-blonde haired man would shrug as if this wasn't a big deal, but it was. A big deal, that is. 

“Xavier, this is seriou–” 

A sharp noise would slip from your lips when a loud boom shakes the whole apartment and the lights go out shortly after. 

“Xav..” You would dart back inside from your place on the balcony and quickly shut the doors, trying to search for him in the dark. 

“Right here, starlight.” 

You would notice a tiny speck of light before a dozen others lit up the room. It almost felt romantic, if it wasn't for the rain pelting the windows and the distant sound of thunder. 

“Come here, we can hide out from the storm together in our own little world.” 

Zayne

“We gonna die–” you would blurt out the moment you began to hear sirens. Bundled up in a blanket on Zayne's living room floor, eyes locked in on the weather report coming from the TV. 

“I– Snow angel…” Zayne can't help but laugh as he returns to the living room with two mugs in hand. “Be careful, it's hot.” He would say as he sets your mug on the table in front of you. 

“Are you not worried at all!?” Your gaze would turn to him in a panic and Zayne would sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“If we die, I'll die with the person I love. That doesn't sound too bad, all things considered.” He admits. 

“You…What–” 

“I think we'll be just fine, angel. You fight wanderers daily, so I didn't expect you'd be this scared of bad weather.” Zayne leans forward and rests one arm over his propped up knee. 

“You know, even though I've known you since we were children, I'm still constantly learning new things about you…” A smile tugs at his lips as he reminisces on the past for a moment. “I hope we survive this ordeal so I can continue to learn more about you in the future.” 

“Zayne, you're not helping!” You would hit his shoulder and try to cover up your reddening face. But you do appreciate the way he was trying to get your mind off of the weather outside. 

[seredelgi]

Just thinking about how bf!Levi would let you know he’s fed up with a social gathering.

pairing: Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

tw: fingering, teasing, smut, voyeuristic behavior, alcohol consumption, profanity, explicit language, reader gets tipsy at a dinner, levi wants out, modern au, mature content, 18+

You’re sitting at a restaurant table, listening to your friends talking, drinking a tad more than usual. You start getting tipsy early on, your cheeks turning red. And maybe that’s why you laugh a bit too loud at one of Jean’s jokes, suddenly catching Levi’s attention.

The next thing you feel is his hand gently coming to rest on your thigh. Its warmth spreads against your skin like a fire, but you think of an innocent affectionate gesture at first. As soon as you let yourself giggle again tho, he dips his fingers in your flesh, gripping at it like a silent warning.

You quietly catch your breath at that, starting to feel a bit dizzy. You don’t want to draw attention but you feel like your boyfriend needs yours, so you turn around to find his eyes on you, dark with an intent that you struggle to recognize.

You’re sure you’ve seen it already, however, you can’t put a finger on it right at this moment. So you sigh and turn your attention back on the silly conversation going on just across the wooden table you’re sitting at.

You should’ve known it was coming, if you had read his expression correctly, you could’ve easily anticipated it, maybe even counter-acted it in time.

You try to listen carefully to your friends but it’s made impossible by the way Levi’s hand has started rubbing down your inner thigh, and you suddenly flush, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

You try but fail miserably to feign yourself unbothered, ‘cause he knows you too damn well. He knows you’re trembling at the idea that his hand could scout further up, reaching in between your thighs, right where your heat is now already aching for it.

But you can’t very well indulge in such thoughts. You’re in public, and you’d made him promise to behave and try to make it ‘till the end of at least one dinner this week.

It’s crazy how difficult it’s been up until now.

You blame him. He’s so anti-social, you bet he’s probably not even pretending to care about what Jean and Eren are fighting over right about now.

But you have to be honest, it’s not his fault alone. You’re just too weak to resist him. You could very well move his hand away, even now. You could stop it from skimming past the hem of your skirt, looking for your heat, but you find yourself unwilling to.

So you’re forced to hold back a moan, yet again. You’re forced to focus on trying not to look too flustered or in any way bothered by his fingertips starting to feel you out through the smooth material of your panties. You can feel your juices staining the cotton white fabric already, and you gulp nervously when you catch Mikasa’s eyes looking at you.

You’ve got to dart your hand to seize Levi’s wrist, heart pounding in your throat, eyes probably way too big, languid with both your emerging arousal and the thrilling excitement provided by the risk of getting caught.

Levi looks at you, but your eyes are still on Mikasa.

Luckily she quickly turns to look at Eren, as always. 

The breath you exhale then has you dissipating some of the tension gathered up, and you’re not completely conscious of the way you absentmindedly let go of your hold on him.

He’s now free to slip one of his fingers in between the slim space separating your underwear from your naked sensitive flesh. Your hand comes to grip at the edge of your seat, your knuckles turning white as you feel his fingertips trailing up from your entrance to the swelling little nub that’s desperately started aching for his attention. And he knows how to give you just that, with the softest touch, the most exquisite amount of pressure.

He brushes on your clit teasingly, playing with it and letting you squirm a little. You hate as much as he loves how you’re unable to buckle your hips up to meet his touch, unable to move at all. You’re only allowed to wait patiently for him to grant you more.

You just know that he’s gloating at the way your eyes have started fluttering, your chest faltering with the growing intensity of his stimulation on your sweet spot. You bit at your bottom lip to restrain from moaning out loud. But then his middle and ring finger scout down again and you catch your breath in anticipation, so high on it that you barely care anymore who could be watching. Your nipples are perkily peeking through the sheer fabric of the dress you’ve got on, a sight you know he must be enjoying way too much.

It’s when his digits finally push past the soaking wetness of your walls that you can’t resist anymore, finally letting go of a deep breath of satisfaction.

Silence sets among your friends before everyone turns to look at you.

Levi’s stopped. You can’t look at him, but you just know he’s smirking proudly right about now.

You can just hope you don’t look as frenzied as you feel. Breaths short and ragged, you clear your throat and finally feel his fingers slip out, probably already highly confident that you’ll excuse yourself before the situation gets any more awkward. Damn, you hate that he’s won again. But you need him to sate the hunger he’s grown desperate in your lower abdomen, and you want it sated now.

He owes you that.

“ I’m sorry guys, I’m not feeling very well” you manage to mutter, and excuse yourself from the table, leaving everyone confounded and a bit worried, as per usual.

Levi just gives a short nod in their direction and then he’s after you on the way out. 

“ I wonder what that’s about…” Jean considers, scratching at the back of his neck.

“ Yeah, she’s always feeling sick lately” Sasha chimes in, stuffing a chicken thigh in her mouth right after.

“ They’re probably going to blow off some steam in the parking lot” Connie wiggles his eyebrows cheekily and smirks to himself.

“ Gross” Eren lets out, eyes rolling “ Why are you constantly thinking about sex, Connie?”

“ Oh, they’re definitely having sex” Mikasa considers, unfazed.

Everyone turns to look at her, but she shrugs and adds no more.

[watchtowerindistress]

the empath and the eldritch horror (1/5) - ben hargreeves x empath!reader

Summary: Number 8 challenged him. Ben just needed to decide if he liked it or not. Nope, definitely hated it. There was no way in hell he actually liked the little Empath.

Word count: 3.1k

Series masterlist

Warnings: sparrow!ben is a warning in itself, language, violence, mental abuse (y'know Reginald's usual schtick)

Author’s note: I'm merely writing moments in the lives of these characters, since I don't know all the quotes. So the chapters are going to feel like snippets/best moments. I made this series shorter than I expected, but I'm cramming everything together as I wanted. (Set in S3)

I didn't feel like doing a lot of world-building, to be honest. I'm aware this isn't my best work, sorry, my depression makes me tired. I just realized when I wrote that dojo scene that I liked Sparrow!Ben so much because he reminded me of an older version of Damian Wayne. 😅 Please be gentle 🤗 I've never written for this fandom before. You want to be tagged or untagged, let me know. As always, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.

“Where the hell is my brother?”

Your determined voice carried to the departing backs of Ben and Fei. Even walking through those corridors in this strange timeline felt utterly surreal. Not to mention, profoundly strange seeing this older version of Ben. After remembering the pictures of when he was still alive.

So, you could only compare this version with the stories Klaus loved to tell. A funny mess. And most of the time a little shit.

Judging by the sarcastic look Ben threw over his shoulder before he fully turned his body, this version of Ben certainly was willing to stir some trouble.

Ben smirked. Fei copied his arrogant demeanor next to him, silently watching this exchange.

“Relax, we just want to have a little chat, and then we’re done with you two.”

Just hearing him talk so unceremoniously about your lives like that simmered something inside you. Like the two of you didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Like Luther and you were barely a blip on their radar.

Your face contorted with anger. To infuriate him just a tad, with the way he infuriated you with his callous words, your body barely leaned forward.

“We’re not things you can just dispose of once we served our purpose.”

Ben tilted his head. There was something fascinating about rendering someone like him speechless for a moment. You weren’t foolish enough to think you were getting to him. Your fingertips twirled behind your back to get a grasp on Ben’s emotions, only to sense something akin to a daze tingling under the surface. Not trusting your own empathetic powers what you detected was real.

Barely turning his head, Ben spoke to Fei with a certain voice. “I can handle this one.”

Fei smirked to herself before murmuring, “I’m sure you do,” and leaving Ben on his own.

He laced his fingers behind his back while playfully dancing on the back of his feet. Ben pursed his lips. “Something I can help you with?”

“How about being the responsible one by having a real conversation instead of using people for your benefit by literally abducting them, huh?”

Ben nodded repetitively, like he couldn’t care less about anyone’s feelings. “Right.” He narrowed his eyes in thought. “What’s the name of the big guy again?”

You conjured a patient smile. “Luther. You know, your brother from another timeline?”

Ben crossed his arms, revealing a crooked smile. “As everyone keeps telling me. I wouldn’t call it an abduction,” he exhaled tiredly, shrugging slightly.

“Are we allowed to leave?”

Ben pursed his lips. “I think he’s starting to like it here. And, you know, you seem seconds away from falling for our charms. We do have things to offer that your precious Umbrellas can only dream of.”

Mocking laughter erupted from your chest before Ben joined in. “Right. Wow, someone’s really sold on themselves.”

“I mean, calling it an abduction? Sounds kinda judgmental, don’t you think?”

You clenched your jaw. Remembering Luther’s emotions brought you back to the park, like they were your own. “I felt his desperation ahead of me,” you replied, deciding to remind him.

At the mention, Ben pointed at you, remembering. “So, you’re the emotional one, huh? What’s your number again?”

“I’m not just a number, Hargreeves.” You placed your hands on your hips. “Not surprised that you would deem something like empathy barely a power. I’d like to see you handle an anxiety attack when I’m done with you.”

Ben waved his arms at his sides. His aura was literally shimmering with excitement as he smirked widely. “Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You rolled your eyes. It seemed like this version of Ben felt drawn to any sort of mischief, the more the better. “And I thought Klaus was the crazy one,” you muttered under your breath. With a normal voice, you inquired, “Where’s Luther?”

“Probably in the kitchen still miserably failing at charming the pants off Sloane.”

A sigh left you when you mutely walked away towards the direction of Fei’s departure. Truth be told, only to get away from Ben faster.

You had already walked away with brisk steps when Ben’s arrogant sing-song voice made you regret all your life choices. “Other way.”

You instantly turned, while grumbling under your breath, “Fucking smart-ass.” You didn’t need to spare him a glance to feel Ben’s arrogant joy coming off of him in waves when he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms in delight.

“You know where to find me if you want to work on those powers of yours, … Number Eight.” Ben chuckled with mirth.

Self-loathing rippled through you just a tad for not letting your power detect Luther’s aura through the mansion to avoid this embarrassing situation altogether. And you blamed yourself for underestimating him. For thinking Ben wouldn’t have interrogated Luther about you.

“So, this is what you guys are doing in your free time, huh?”

Ben’s eyes remained closed when he performed his tai chi movements in the dojo, not letting himself appear to be ruffled by your presence.

“This tells me everything I need to know about your squadron of Umbrellas. How does it feel wasting your day away, not improving?”

You remained unfazed by his choice of insults. In the end, you were used to Reginald’s mental abuse. Your eyes followed his movements, content with watching his little ritual while leaning with your shoulder against the pillar.

“Depends. What’s it feel like when you’re not being a mascot for a Hargreeves empire?”

Ben scoffed in derision. “You think you can distract me?”

Grateful for his answer, you smiled in pure delight before sitting cross-legged on the middle of the training mat. “Oh, I know I am. Besides, I wanted to take you up on that offer which was made by a helpful Ben.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Don’t ever call me that. You’re delusional for thinking I want to help you.”

You dramatically pressed your hand to your chest. “‘Oh, Y/N, I just can’t live with myself if something happened to you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if that means helping you advance your powers.’”

Forced laughter erupted from Ben’s chest. “Har har, and I thought Sundance was the hilarious one.”

“Klaus.” You reminded him diligently.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Empath.”

You were strangely getting used to this Ben and felt truly like you were having a grand ol' time with him. Even if that meant ruffling his feathers. “You want to know what I think?”

“No,” Ben muttered with a gruff voice.

You continued as if you hadn’t heard him, “Someone’s really pretending that they don’t care about anyone or anything. Or, second theory-”

“I’m on the edge of my seat,” Ben interrupted you wryly.

“Maybe you don’t mind a distraction to take your mind off things.”

This time around, Ben turned to face you before he knelt down. Leaning over you until you could feel his warm breath on your skin. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“I’m the emotional one, remember?” You whispered before you pursed your lips when a thought hit you. “Not to mention, I can feel your curiosity, with a smidge of you itching for a fight.”

Ben snorted. “You’re adorable for thinking you can take me in a fight-”

An angelic smile tugged at your mouth. Your fingers brushed against his bare chest which was revealed underneath the dark robe. Your fingertips tingled before you let your power come to the surface.

The golden shimmer enshrouded Ben’s chest, pulling him backwards. No matter how many times you had done it before, your hands cautiously studied his aura once you heard his heavy breathing.

You still whispered soothingly, “That’s the sensation you get for being close to fainting. That feeling of vertigo tormenting your body and like your head can’t get enough air.”

The caring side of you stroked Ben’s feverish forehead until the dizzying spell lessened and was finally relieved.

You swallowed once you met Ben’s darkened gaze. He stared at you with glittering eyes, like he was truly seeing you for the first time. Ben licked his lips. “I think … I might have some use for you after all.”

“You may not know this, but my power doesn’t work like a medium,” you said, nervously rubbing your thighs to stimulate your senses.

Ben sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. The Sparrow had changed back into a shirt after the impromptu training session. He leaned forward and warned through clenched teeth. “Do you want to be of help, or not? Get this done, and you and your brother can go back to whatever shithole you stay at.”

“Not with this type of energy in the room.” You widened your eyes at Ben’s glowering ones to make your point. Before long you sat down on Marcus’ bed, with a bored Fei leaning against the door jamb.

Ben’s sister twiddled her manicured fingernails. “Is this a waste of time?”

He clenched his jaw, facing her. “No, it’s not. I know what she can do.”

“Aww, Benny-boo, you believe in me. That’s so cute. Who knew you had a heart?”

Fei smirked, tilting her head. “Not me.”

“You guys are hilarious. Are we done with the ‘band together against Ben today’? I’m doing whatever it takes to locate Marcus here and you two are not helping with the situation.”

You pressed your lips together at Ben’s all too serious demeanor. “Just trying to lighten the mood since your tense atmosphere isn’t helping with the task at hand.”

Ben shared a close-lipped smile, caging your body in on the bed. Despite his threatening air, you remained steadfast and didn’t move an inch.

“Do you mind just doing the thing before I lose my mind and let my tentacles do the talking?”

You narrowed your eyes. Ben needed to work on his lacking social skills, if his only resort were threats. “Say please?”

You could breathe easier again when Ben straightened his body and crossed his arms. “Keep dreaming.”

You exhaled heavily. Half the time he was fun to talk to and other times, he wore you out. “Just give me something of his that holds emotional value,” you mentioned, patiently waiting. The awkward silence confused you to no end. Ben and Fei exchanged glances among each other.

“Why is nothing happening?”

Ben turned to Fei. “Get Sloane.”

His sister tilted her head, challenging him. “Oh, I can just summon my crows.”

The muscles on Ben’s arms tensed before his jaw clenched with his next words. “Fei, take a walk.”

Her shoulder shook with mirth when Fei left with relaxed steps.

Ben’s sarcastic voice pulled you back to him. “I’m guessing giving you one of his leather jackets wouldn’t count, right?”

Your elbows supported you when you settled back. “Wouldn’t get the desired effect. So, let me guess, you guys are just numbers and soldiers?”

Ben shrugged, leaning his hip against the cabinet. “Gets the job done.”

“And you’re content with that?”

“It’s the only thing that matters.”

You didn’t believe him for a second. Or at least, you couldn’t imagine someone being satisfied with being so shallow. “Right. Because being associated to a number is all that matters.”

Ben smirked crookedly. “Oh, there’s nothing better.”

“Right, Number Two,” you added, trying to get to him.

“You trying to flirt with me, Eight?”

You rolled your eyes, retorting, “You wish.”

Ben chuckled, pondering to himself. “Who’d have thought? Maybe I prefer calling you Empath more than Eight. It’s pretty close though.”

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks blush at being more intertwined with that status of Empath than a generic number. “You’re weird.”

The mood of his aura changed to something unfamiliar. At least to someone like Ben. He cleared his throat. “So,…”

“So…?” You teasingly copied him, putting the side of your head against your shoulder, watching his reaction.

Ben crossed his arms. “What was he like?”

“Our Ben? Why do you want to know?” To you, it seemed strange for someone like him to inquire about his alternate version.

He eyed something outside the window. “Just curious, I guess,” Ben said, still not looking at you.

“Why don’t you ask Klaus or the others? I only met Ben after he was dead.”

“Wait, what?” That finally got a reaction out of Ben when he rapidly turned his head to stare at you with a peculiar gaze.

You sighed, remembering the circumstances of you meeting your siblings for the first time. “Reginald called me ‘the replacement’.”

Maybe this was ultimately his plan to ostracize you from the others by using that term. At least, you had Diego and Luther at your side. Klaus soon joined that tight-knit little circle once you confided in feeling that sensation of an unfamiliar aura wandering the halls of the manor.

Sometimes it still hurt how everything progressed. Your siblings emanating their grief onto you didn’t bother you. It was their apathy, that they didn’t care about you.

“I was taken in after Ben’s death. I could only feel his aura around after he was dead. I can sense who someone is in a way. Feel what kind of a person they are. Ben was always…” You pondered deeply how to describe someone like him. How to condense someone’s life and traits into the essence of someone.

“Kind, intelligent, mostly mischievous.” You smiled fondly, whispering quietly, “I could never replace him even if I tried.”

You didn’t know what it was about your gaze that made the Sparrow avoid it again. With the shaking of your head, you dispelled your thoughts. The new aura close by tickling your fingertips was a fitting distraction.

You glanced towards the open door. “Hey, Sloane.”

Seconds later, said woman poked her head into the room, smiling with a delighted air. “Neat party trick.”

An expectant Ben raised his eyebrows, interrupting any further carefree moments. “Sloane, Marcus’ favorite stuff he liked to touch?”

You felt inclined to add something else before more inquiries could arise. “In other words, yes. Or something that mattered to him.”

“There should be a book in his nightstand.”

That was the only mention Ben needed before he opened the drawer. Ben shook his head with a scoff, inspecting the worn edition. He showed his sisters the found evidence. “Are you kidding me? The Velveteen Rabbit?”

Sloane waved her open palms soothingly. “Remember we just want Marcus back.”

“What a nerd,” he grumbled, carelessly giving you the book.

“Says you? It’s a timeless classic,” you admonished Ben lightly before reaching for the hardcover edition.

Ben smirked. “I rest my case.” He furrowed his brows when a second thought hit him. “And what did you just say to me?”

You chose to ignore Ben’s little angry outburst when Sloane sat next to you on the bed. “Will it be enough for you to build a psychic connection?”

You closed your eyes, trying to hone in on the source. With your fingertips brushing along the spine of the book, your search for the truth was soon answered with the first memory remnants hitting you. Shivers coursed through your body at the sensation of Marcus’ memories filling your mind like they were your own.

There was an abundance of wishful thinking contained into the book, the craving of a different reality when Marcus’ birth mother granted him this first and last gift.

“It should suffice,” you said assuredly. With a calming sigh, you leaned your head back against the pillows. The book was held tightly in your grip.

“Yeah, sure. Have a nap, why don’t you? Something else you need? Maybe some soothing music, a face mask?”

Your eyes remained closed when you murmured, “Ben Hargreeves.” To get the message across, you made a quiet coyote signal. Hoping it would calm his frayed nerves.

A ripple of Ben’s undignified frustration wafted through the air. His only answer was a harrumphing noise.

You stirred your head, biting your lip in confusion. “I can feel a strong enough remnant, but I should be able to sense his location.”

“What are you saying?” Ben inquired tightly.

You chose your next words carefully. “I’m saying, … I can’t feel Marcus.”

“What does this mean?” Fei’s strained voice shared Ben’s sentiment. “Are you saying he’s dead? Abducted?”

At last, you opened your eyes. The perplexity of this unsolved mystery still plaguing your mind even after. It was more than nerve-wracking. “I’m saying that I should be able to find him, but I can’t. It’s like he just … vanished.”

The air crackled with hostility. Anxiously, you swallowed, staring straightforward. You jumped back when Ben’s wrath reached you.

Holding you down with his tentacles, with one of them slinging around your throat. Tightly but menacingly enough to spell out his primal urges. Ben’s body draped over yours. Fury blazed in his darkened eyes. “Now, Umbrella, I’m done with your little mind games.”

Sloane stood behind Ben’s shoulder, raising her voice. “Ben, let go.”

“Not until I find out what her family has done to him.”

With a hoarse voice, you implored darkly, “Listen to your sister before your Cthulu tentacles get the memo about me too.” As a warning, you gripped the surprisingly smooth appendage around your throat.

You cursed your curious mind for even harboring the thought of wanting to know how the tentacle’s skin would feel like.

Ben’s smile grew tighter, the more his eldritch monster’s hold intensified. “Try me, Eight.”

Summoning empathetic energy from within to converse it as a kinetic shield, you blasted him against the cabinet and leaving small splinters of wood on the carpet.

With a grunting noise, Ben’s tentacles drew back into his body. “Alright,” he murmured reluctantly. Ben dragged his body upwards until he was leaning against the furniture for support. He offered a blood-stained smile in reverence before he wiped off the crimson evidence from his lips. “Little minx.”

A dull thud resounded when you dropped the book on the duvet. You stood up and with a quiet voice you told Ben in no uncertain terms, “Don’t ever threaten me again.”

Remembering the company of Ben’s sisters and the result of your outburst, you awkwardly glanced at them before your feet led you towards the open door.

Wordlessly, Fei turned her body to make room. Her gaze roamed over your body with fondness after your display of power. As soon as you left the room, her dry voice remarked, “I’d consider this a success.”

Tagging: @cherryinsalemverse @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @lelaamela

[youraveragenicaddict]

Xavier Thorpe X  GN!Reader - Tied Up

A/N - I was listening to a Deftones playlist, and my mind went to very unholy places, so I decided to write it (I already posted a version of this, but I didn’t like it so I rewrote it) enjoy (if u want me to finish this then submit an ask lol)

Warnings - it gets heated but no actual smut

THE BOOK IS CALLED ‘’JAY WISEMAN’S EROTIC BONDAGE HANDBOOK’’

DEFTONES S3X PLAYLIST (THE PLAYLIST IS NOT MINE, I FOUND IT AND I LOVED IT OK? DON’T JUDGE ME)

Seeing your boyfriend in chains definitely did something to your brain, but given the circumstances it was in, you didn't want to say anything since it could have been a tad bit traumatic, so you decided on dropping a hint about what you wanted. A big hint.

You had ordered a book. The erotic kind, to be precise. Jay Wiseman's Erotic Bondage handbook to be even more precise. Being an Addams, you already knew the basics to an extent, but decided on reading further into it, so as not to hurt your boyfriend if he decided he was into that.

A week after ordering it, it arrived, and you read it in less than a day. It was pretty interesting, but more importantly, full of tips, how-tos, and safety precautions one had to take.

You couldn't just blatantly give it to him in the middle of the pentagon-shaped courtyard, so you decided to change the covers of the book to those of a poetry book you took from the school library. To be honest, you've never even read the book, but it would have to do.

So on one chilly Friday, when you had bought the ropes and everything you might need, you set out to find Xavier and set your little plan into motion.

While you were walking down the stairs, you ran into your sister, Wednesday, who was probably going to her dorm since it was her writing hour. ''Hey sis, what a lovely afternoon, isn't it?'' You asked her, unusually happy, which made her raise her brow in question. ''Hi, it will be a lovely afternoon when a thunderstorm appears. What has gotten you in such a weird mood? Is it that poetry book you're carrying?'' She said in her usual monotone voice while trying to sneak a peak inside the book. ''Maybe, maybe not, enjoy writing your murder novels, I have shit to do'' You grinned, while walking away, leaving her to question if it was the book or something else, you're not usually THIS cheery.

You found Xavier in the courtyard, painting something on its walls as usual. He didn't notice you standing behind him and jumped a little bit when you wrapped your arms around his torso with a ''hi love'' to accompany your actions. ''Oh hey, what's up?'' he asked, putting one of his hands over yours while continuing his work on the wall. ''What are you painting? Another ''tortured artist'' work?'' You questioned with a small smirk playing on your lips. ''Ha ha, very funny. You're never going to let me live that down, are you?'' He retorted in a mock serious voice, while he was quite obviously grinning as much as you were.

You unwrapped your arms and moved so you were standing next to him before you said in a smug voice, ''I got you something, don't open it in front of people, love. Read it, alright?'' You handed him the book, which he took after cleaning his paint-stained hands with a small towel. ''Poetry? Why can't I open it in front of people? Did you write a murder plan in there or something?'' He joked after taking a look at the book. ''You'll see,'' You stated, and before you left to do your own thing, you gave him a quick kiss on the lips and sent him a wink, walking away. Curious as to what was so important about the book, he opened the first page, in which he found a note in your handwriting, '' When you read this and have decided if you're into it, find me in my dorm :))''. He took off the sticky note and looked at the title, which made him slightly blush since it read ''Jay Wiseman's Erotic Bondage Handbook''. He quickly shut the book and decided that he'll read it after he finished the painting. Xavier was intrigued, to say the least. Of course, you'd be into that, he thought with a slight chuckle.

It was very convenient since you didn't have a roommate and had a queen-sized bed with a metal headboard. You definitely didn't expect to see Xavier standing in your room that evening, dressed in grey sweatpants and one of your Metallica t-shirts.

''Hey, you.'' You said, walking to him and giving him a hello kiss. He instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist. It looked like he was contemplating something, so you raised your brow in a questioning manner. You didn't even get to ask what was bothering him when he responded with a yes.

You had a confused look on your face when he let go of you and went to your bed to find something he had put there earlier. Xavier raised the disguised handbook and then handed it to you. ''Open it,'' He said. He ran a hand through his hair and sat down on your bed, waiting.

You opened the book and found your note inside, but in addition to the original one, you found a ''yes'' scribbled under your text. You smiled, closed the book, and put it on your desk before going to sit beside him. ''Are you sure?'' You asked while moving strands of hair that had fallen into his face behind his ear. ''Yeah, I thought about it, and since you know what you're doing, at least I hope so,'' he chuckled while you grinned at him, '' I'm open to trying it.'' You didn't need any other confirmation. You smashed your lips onto his in a heated kiss, while he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. Testing the water, you lightly bit down on Xavier's lower lip. You could feel he was fighting against the noises that were creeping their way out of his throat. ''Wait, I forgot to lock the door, shit,'' He exaggeratedly whined when you got up, and let his back fall against the soft mattres of your bed. You quickly locked the door, checked that it was really locked, and turned on some music. Xavier recognized the playlist immediately, and he'd be lying if he said that it didn't turn him on. Before going back to him, you rummaged through your closet and pulled out a box in which the ropes you had previously bought were in. Xavier was watching your every move and you could feel his lustful gaze.

You carelessly dropped the ropes on your bed and got yourself comfortable in Xavier's lap. He raised his body to meet yours and kissed you again, this time it was a lot more passionate. Your mouth slowly opened up, enjoying the feeling of his tongue against yours. He didn’t notice it, but you had placed a hand on his neck, slowly moving it upward to grab a fistful of his hair and roughly pull on it. Xavier couldn't contain himself anymore and let out a low moan.

You smiled into the kiss and let your hands wander lower down his body, to the hem of the shirt, your shirt, that he'd been wearing, and helped him out of it. He let out a groan as the cold night air collided with his naked torso. You instructed him to move up against the headboard. Before you did anything, you reminded him of the safe words, green for go, yellow for pause, and red for immediate stopping.

After making sure he was comfortable, and you had scissors on your nightstand, you began to tie up his hands with the soft rope, carefully, not to restrict blood flow. While you were focused on the task at hand, Xavier began placing kisses on your neck. You yanked his hands back to tie them to the headboard, making his back hit the mattress again. He was slightly panting, his eyes full of want and need. You admired the sight before you, it wasn't a thing you see every day, but you already had the picture engraved in your mind. You lowered your head so you could kiss him again, your lips moving in sync. When you lifted your head, he whined at the loss of contact, but you were already moving lower, starting to attack his neck with hickeys that would be visible for a week at least. Xavier moaned softly when you found that one spot that felt the best and continued your work there. You were so caught up in the moment you almost didn't hear the two knocks on your door. You chose to ignore them, hoping the person would go away, but they didn't and continued knocking. ''For fucks sake,'' you whispered, annoyed at whoever was standing outside your dorm. What made you freeze in your place was the new principal's voice.

''Turn that music down. I have received complaints about the noise from other students,'' She tried to shout over the Deftones song playing in the background. You cleared your throat and yelled '' Sorry, I'll turn it down.'' ''You better, and if I hear another complaint about it, I'll make sure you can't play that music at all.'' She hollered, irritated since it wasn't the first time you'd done this.

You made your way to the speaker and turned the music down a little bit, so it wasn't too loud, but loud enough. ''Now, where were we?'' You turned to Xavier, still tied up on your bed, watching you, lips slightly parted, waiting for your next move.

[fraugwinska]

Guys, here we are - my first try at VOX x Reader! ;> Who knew we would be here one day? And it's all thanks to @macabr3-barbi3, for whom this bribe was intended, but we'll graciously share it with you ;> Don't worry though - I am a Deer Girl through and through. Just with a side of TV Slut now (once in a while)

Vox x Reader : Hatefuck prompt - 18+ - Minors DNI!

Pretty Desperate

"Sir, your 6 o'clock is here."

"She can fucking wait, I need another five."

Vox rubbed at his temples, staring down at the monitor in front of him as Papermint quickly retreated from the control room, the clipboard the little shit always carried clutched in front of his chest. He had dreaded this particular meeting the whole day.

Alastor's bitch, the little assistant he had hired not a month before had been nothing but trouble. And if Vox was honest, not only to him, but also to Alastor himself. The Radio Demon had been completely clueless to the goddamn puppy crush the assistant had on him.

It made Vox sick.

Little Miss Nobody wasn't even that hot! Just an average looking demon. A bit short, not really muscular, no wings, no tail, no tits, nothing special, except for a pair of twisted horns and a somewhat nice ass. Following Alastor around like a lost dog, carrying his coat, running errands for him, all the while fluttering her lashes and smiling coyly at him, thinking nobody noticed.

Except Vox did. He fucking noticed, and he wanted to throw up.

He could understand, honestly, why the assistant had the hots for Al. His friend was charming, had a killer body, and his voice was a goddamn treat to listen to, especially when he got all excited and happy about something. His laugh was loud, a tad maniacal, and it always made Vox shiver to his bones.

But the problem was, the feeling wasn't mutual. Alastor wasn't into his assistant. Didn't have the hots for her, and wouldn't want to get between her thighs even if she shoved his microphone in her cunt. Al had never even touched her, or anyone else for that matter. Vox knew that, from first hand experience, and still he hated this bitch. He hated how she thought she had any chance with Alastor. And he hated her because he didn't have a chance with Alastor either.

Not that it was her fault per se, but still. She had some audacity, to even think to have a chance when Vox hadn't even gotten past a fucking friendly pat on the shoulder yet.

"Fuck!"

Papermint flinched, and Vox felt his lips twitch, the little shit had entered again without him noticing.

"Mr. Vox, your-"

"Yeah yeah, I know, send her in. And get me a drink, and make it a strong one."

He nodded, hurrying to get the requested drink before opening the door to let Alastor's assistant inside. She had a stack of folders under her arm, and a nervous look on her face. She had a thing against the Vee's, especially him, and it made him want to strangle her, even though he knew that his overall appearance, the sharp angles of his screened head and the cold look he always gave her was most likely the reason for her nervousness.

"Mr. Vox-"

"No small talk, get to the point. I'm sure Alastor wouldn't have sent you here if it wasn't something urgent."

"O-oh, of course. There was a... situation, I was instructed to deliver these to you, while Mr. Alastor has gone to check it out."

"And he didn't bother calling?"

"It was quite sudden, and he wasn't sure if you would answer your landline."

Vox grunted, Alastor's refusal for any modern technology past fucking landlines and telegrams was getting on his last nerves more and more, but there was nothing he could do about it. If he wanted to live in the stone age, that was his business.

"Hand those over and get out.”

"I'm afraid I was instructed to stay until you've taken care of them."

"As fucking usual."

He knew for a fact that Alastor sent her here only to annoy him. Those papers didn't need checking, Vox would only look over them and stamp a little print on the front saying 'Approved', and they were done. But his friend loved to tease him, and ever since Vox had voiced his dislike against his assistant, Alastor had gotten a certain morbid joy out of pushing him to work together with her.

"Yes, fuck, whatever. Let's get this shit over with. Come in, and shut the door behind you."

At least she kept her mouth shut while he skimmed over the content of said papers, drinking from the tumbler filled with what tasted like Gin. For once she wasn't being annoying, and she didn't stare at him defiantly the way she usually did. She looked defeated in a way, the usual sass in her stance missing as she waited, silently and unmoving next to him, hands folded tightly in front of her. Odd.

"What's the matter, dollface? Alastor finally told you he'll never fuck you?", he smirked, turning a page and scribbling his signature at the bottom of the page.

He heard a quiet, shaking breath, and for the first time since she entered the room, he looked directly at her.

Her eyes were burning red, and Vox hadn't realized she had been crying, but she clearly was. Silent, thick tears escaped her eyes, running slowly down her cheeks, leaving trails where her finger wiped them off hastily.

"Oh, seems like I've hit the bull's eye. Fuck, doll, stop crying, I get that he rejected you, but that's just pathetic."

"Leave me alone. What does it matter to you anyway?", she whispered, more tears running down her face.

"Like I care, you'll run back to Al with your little tears and tell him how much you're pining for him, how desperate you are. Maybe that's a bit of his kink and he'll actually consider it, who knows. You might get a pity-fuck with one of his voodoo-minions at the end, is that what you want?"

He expected her to respond, expected her to either throw something at him or slap his stupid grin off his screen. He certainly hadn't expected what happened. She sobbed and slapped a hand across her own face, silencing the heart-wrenching noise she emitted. But Vox had to watch how her whole expression just crumbled, he watched her face turn red, and how she wiped over her face furiously, swiping away more tears that were still coming.

For a few moments, Vox sat frozen in his chair, unable to process the situation. The paper in his hand was crumpled in his grip. It wasn't a little crush, that was painfully obvious. Fuck, what was her name again? Did she like Alastor for real?

"Alright, shit. You, uh... sit down."

He pushed another chair forward with his foot.

"Wh-why would I..."

"Because you don't really look stable on your fucking legs, and I hate this bullshit already, so come over here, take a fucking seat and pull yourself together."

She made a face, sniffling pitifully before crossing the short distance towards the chair.

"How long?"

She bit her lip, a bitter laugh escaping her as she sat down.

"Ever since I've started working for him."

"Oh wow, that must be so hard on you, sweetheart." Vox voice dripped of sarcasm. He leaned over to her, shoving his half-full glass of gin in her direction with a scrutinizing smile. "Try seven decades, then we can talk."

For the first time her lips turned upwards, not quite a smile, but the scowl wasn't there anymore.

"You're no better off than me."

He scoffed in response, filling the tumbler back up to the brim. She took it carefully, taking a few sips from the translucent liquid. Vox eyed her for a moment, wondering if she would spit it back out. Okay, she wasn't that ugly. Her lips were nice and puffy, pink, a color not that usual in hell, almost human-like.

"Maybe not, but at least I have the decency to not follow him around like a lost dog. That's just sad."

"You're one to judge."

Vox laughed a humorless laugh. "Oh-ho. Have we found our backbone, doll? I actually hate you a little less like this. It gets boring, the whole spiel with the kiss-ups constantly trying to lick Alastor's boots... or anything else."

"He never notices anyway."

"Nope. Doesn't notice shit.", Vox takes the glass from her and empties it in one big gulp.

"And still you hate me."

"Of course I fucking hate you."

"Why? Because you want him for yourself? Because you can't stand it that someone else wants him? That I want him?"

Vox snorted, the sound a bit static-y, and she flinched.

"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart, I don't give a fuck about what you want. He doesn't give half a shit about you. He doesn't want you - End of the story. But if he did, he'd deserve much better than you. You're a whiny little bitch, you follow him like a kicked puppy, and you're a fucking annoyance. Al can do better than that."

Her wet eyes burned with fury. Huh. The bitch had a little bite in her after all, good to know.

"Fuck you, you're no better. You're an arrogant, narcissistic, stuck-up prick, you think everyone loves you and worships the ground you're walking on, you act all high and mighty, you're a bully, a control freak and a manipulative asshole."

He had to admit, she hit a few bullet points herself. But that didn't mean he liked her. He stood up, taking a step towards her. Her face was tinted red, anger clear in her round face. Now that was something he could work with.

"At least I don't cry about it like a pathetic little loser."

She was crying again, angry tears this time, her eyebrows furrowed and a scowl on her lips. Fucking perfect.

"I fucking hate you, too."

"Good."

Vox leaned over her, gripping her chin harshly. She flinched, and a new tear rolled down her cheek, falling on her blouse and wetting the dark fabric. She was trembling, but she wasn't moving away from him. He smirked, his hand wandering up, fingers digging into her cheeks painfully, and then his lips were on hers, hard and rough. She tasted salty from her tears, but there was a certain sweetness, a bittersweet note of her own, and the faint taste of gin. She made a small, protesting noise, but her hand gripped his arm, holding onto him tightly.

He broke the kiss, staring down at her, her lips swollen and reddened, her cheeks flushed and stained with tear marks, her eyes burning with hatred.

"Get on the desk."

He grabbed her and picked her up easily, setting her down on the large table. He grabbed her chin again, and she glared at him, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed, but a deviant smile on her face.

"Fuck you."

He smirked.

"Exactly."

The blouse tore like paper when he ripped it open. Her tits were actually nice, not as big as he was used to, but round and perky. She was panting heavily, and he had a feeling she hadn't expected this turn of events. Well, neither had he, but right now, Vox couldn't care less. All he cared about was his rage-filled desire to fuck this shitty feeling out of his system and the invitingly wet stain on her panties as he shoved her pencil skirt up her thighs, the way she squirmed and arched her back slightly, silently begging him to touch her. He leaned over her, capturing her mouth again, and he couldn't help the smirk at the way she kissed him back, a tad aggressive and demanding. His fingers pushed aside the soaked fabric, rubbing her clit lightly. She moaned quietly, breaking the kiss. Vox didn't waste a second, pushing a finger inside her.

She was hot and slick, and she was fucking tight. Vox groaned, and she whimpered, a high-pitched noise that went straight to his groin.

"Look at you, so wet already. What would Alastor say if he saw you like this, moaning like a cheap slut for another guy?"

He grinned, thrusting the finger harder and adding a second. She was almost dripping, the noises his fingers made were obscene, and it was fucking hot.

"He'd scold me for downgrading myself to someone like you."

Vox laughed as he added a third finger, bending them skillfully to hit just the right spot. "Oh please, you're a mess, doll. Your cunt is dripping, and you're trembling. And still you're trying to be a snarky little bitch."

He rubbed her clit again, and she gasped. He had to admit, her pussy was probably the best one he had felt in a while, and it was definitely the most fun he had ever had with a woman. Usually it was all him calling the shots, the women he fucked were usually dumb and eager to please, and not really capable of sassing him back the way she was doing now.

"You're one to talk, finger-banging me while having a hard-on. Is it because fucking his assistant is the closest you'll ever get to fucking Alastor?"

He didn't give her the satisfaction of a reply (of course he had a good one), but instead he removed his fingers in a swift swipe, ignoring the way she whimpered at the loss. He undid his belt and zipper, freeing his aching cock, his newest, upgraded model. She stared at it, wide-eyed, and for the first time, she actually looked intimidated, unsure... scared. Vox grinned satisfied, stroking himself a few times.

"Don't worry, dollface, it'll fit, and it'll feel really good. And the best thing - if you stop your constant bitching, maybe I'll even make you cum."

He rubbed the head of his dick over her clit, the LED's on it brightly illuminating her core in a blue hue, and she let out a strangled moan at the sensation. Her face was red and flushed, her eyes half-lidded, and she looked so goddamn sultry with her legs spread wide and her pussy glistening.

Vox grabbed her hips, pulling her close until her ass was at the edge of the table, and then he lined up his cock.

"Last chance to back out, sweetheart."

He couldn't believe his own words. Was he really offering her a way out? Why did he even care, he was the one with his dick out, and she was the one that would have to take the consequences of this whole hate-fuck-thing, he'd be fine either way.

She looked up at him, her face determined.

"Alastor always told me you're all talk, no action. Was he right?"

Oh, this little bitch was going to regret that. He pushed inside her, his cock sliding in easily. He was big, and she was so fucking tight, it was incredible. She cried out, a sharp, high-pitched sound.

"Too much action for you?"

She didn't answer, instead she was trying her hardest not to move, her hands firm on his shoulders, and Vox had to give her that, she did a good job of staying still, only the slightest of trembles visible on her legs as she willed herself to relax around him so he could move.

He was throbbing inside her, the walls of her cunt pulsing and fluttering painfully around him, and it was taking everything he had to let her at least adjust and not just fuck her right into the table. He was still holding her hips, the tips of his fingers digging into her skin, probably leaving marks, and he was sure that the force with which he was gripping her would leave traitorous, colorful bruises. Markings, his markings on Alastor's bitch. The thought made him shiver, sending electric currents down his spine as he pulled out slowly, the drag deliciously torturous. And then he thrusted back in, all the way. Hard. Her pussy clenched deliciously around him, and Vox threw his head back, a silent moan leaving his throat as he moved in and out, feeling her stretch and contract around his length, sucking him in greedily.

He felt his body overheat, electrical current flowing through him in intense pulses straight to his dick, adding another sensation to the already wonderful tight, wet, hot feeling enveloping him. He might need a little fix-me-up, it had been a while since someone got this much of a reaction out of him. The room was quiet, only her rapid panting and the sound of her cunt swallowing his cock with every pull filled the air, the noices slick and sloppy. Vox pressed one finger firmly on her clit, making her arch her back as he began circling it, the heels of her feet pressing painfully into his lower back as he increased his pace. His own breathing was starting to become labored, short puffs of static leaving him.

"Say his name", he heard himself demand, the sound of his own voice was low and static-y.

"Wh-"

"You fucking heard me, say his name. Call for him while I'm fucking you, come on, princess. See if he cares."

He increased his pace, hammering in and out of her, the air was heavy with the thick smell of sex and arousal, and she was becoming louder, keening, gasping, mewling.

"Fuck you.", she gasped.

"Wrong, try again."

Vox slowed, changing the angle to thrust right up where it made her shake. He smirked when her toes curled. "Come on, I know you can say it, I'll make it easy on you, I'll say it with you: A. La. Stor."

With every syllable he pumped into her a bit harder, the electricity from his fingertips stinging her clit, and the extra sensation had her shudder, a shaky moan leaving her throat. Vox wasn't giving her any chances to catch her breath, the air was filling with the familiar buzz of static electricity, the screens inside the room began to flicker as more and more electricity flowed from the TV overlord into her body, to her limbs.

"Oh my...fucking god... Vox!"

Her hands dug into his suit, and then she gasped, a beautiful, long, drawn-out moan ripping through her chest as her back arched, her heels digging harder into his lower back. She shuddered, violently, and came, the feeling of her pulsating muscles sucking him in combined with his fucking name rolling from her lips completely doing it for him. With one last, well placed thrust, and her voice in his ears calling for him and not Alastor, he buried his dick deep inside her cunt, riding out his own orgasm with small, careful thrusts, hissing quietly as her tight walls were milking him for all his worth.

He leaned forward, his forearms framing her on the table, and he huffed. Fuck, that was intense.

Her whole body was buzzing with the electrical currents he was putting off, and her muscles were tense as she willed herself to breath, gasping softly. Vox smirked and released a bit more power just for shits and giggles, just enough to make her gasp again, and he watched as her lips formed a tiny 'O' as the currents jerked every muscle in her body, making her walls tighten one more time around his softening dick and forcing another soft grunt from his own lips. He let off after that, knowing how tiring it could be.

He carefully pulled out, watching a mix of his cum and her own juices dribble out of her cunt, and he huffed at the sight, giving a quick rub to her swollen clit to push the rest of his cum inside.

She laid motionless for a second, staring at the ceiling blankly, and Vox was just wondering whether he had actually fried her brain, when she shifted, pulling her panties back into place. She looked up, and her almost human eyes found his digital ones, a very soft, amused, almost fond look settling on her features.

"You are really pathetic." She pushed herself off the desk, wobbly on her knees but upright while she pulled her skirt down and tidied her clothes, putting the ripped blouse back together as best as she could. "But I have to hand it to you - you know how to fuck."

Vox grinned smugly. "Baby, what do you think got me where I am now?"

"Mhm. Anyway- that was fun. Very entertaining, as Alastor would say. Might need a new blouse though."

She gathered the signed papers in front of her chest to hide the gaping hole exposing one of her tight breasts, opened the door and gave him a last glance over her shoulder, an impish smile on her round, flushed face. "I still fucking hate you."

For a few minutes, Vox remained behind, a dumb grin on his lips. He should really ask for her name at some point, he guessed, especially if Alastor planned for him to work with her again.

Hopefully in the near future.

[ann1-wr1tes]

Can you do an NSFW alphabet for Sukuna?

Dynamics: Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spicy Alphabet

Warnings: Adult themes, obviously smut, Sukuna himself is a warning

A/N: Ah yes, the King of Curses. I hope you enjoy!

-----

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

-Lets be honest here, this is Sukuna we are talking about. Usually he'd do nothing and just leave but lets say he likes you...he'd probably get rag and clean you up a bit. If you asked him to run a bath or shower he might do so begrudgingly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-His favorite body part on his partner would just straight up your tits and ass. The man knows what he likes and he is unapologetic about it.

-On himself it would probably be his stature. Not really a body part, I know but he just loves the size difference. He loves how much larger he is than you and he makes sure he takes advantage of it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

-He loves to cum on your face. Its just so amusing to him when you get all embarrassed and flustered. The hazy, fucked out look in your eyes and his cum all over your face is one of his favorite things to see.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-He'd love to fuck you in his true form. You think that there's already a size difference now? Well wait until he fucks you in his true form not to mention having four arms rather than two can really come in handy when he's trying ruin you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

-I can imagine that back in the day, Sukuna had many concubines so of course he's got experience and he's actually quite cocky about it. He definitely knows what he's doing...

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

-Doggy. He doesn't really care about looking at your face or anything and when he fucks you from behind he can shove your face into the mattress and fuck you nice and deep from behind.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

-Nope. Not goofy at all. This man probably doesn't even know how to crack a joke normally so trying to be humorous while you two are fucking...probably not gonna happen.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

-Honestly Sukuna probably doesn't care all that much but he may trim it every once in a while.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

-You would have to be very well liked by Sukuna to even get close to any sort of romanticism. He's always rough and fast, not really taking much time to revel in any "ushy gushy" feelings. However, he could be a tad bit more gentle if you begged him. Then he might take the time to be a bit more feely.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

-Doesn't masturbate often. I mean why should he when he has you? But he has a pretty high sex drive so sometimes he does but he'd much rather just rail you than use his hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

-Size kink. Obviously. he just loves getting to loom over you, looking all big and scary. He also has a bit of a degradation kink. He loves to see you stumbling over your words while he calls you a "his favorite slut" or "pretty little whore" and whatnot. He can be mean ngl.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

-This man does NOT care. Unlike other people, Sukuna has no shame and quite literally gives no fucks. If someone walks in on you two, he does not care and if anything it makes him feel more cocky about the whole situation. So he doesn't really have a "favorite spot". Anywhere will do.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

-He likes some feistyness. He likes it when you act like a brat because that really gets him going and gives him an excuse to just absolutely rail you. Or you could always wear something a bit more skimpy to get his attention.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-Hate so say it, but this man refuses to be a bottom. Period, end of story. He just won't do it. Anything that makes him lose control, he's not into.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

-Receiving 100%. He loves throat fucking and is absolutely merciless when you decide to go down on him. He just wants to see you choke and cry when you try to take him in your mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

-You all know the drill. This man is fast and rough. I don't think he really knows the meaning of "slow and sensual". He has very little patience so going slow is not something he really likes to do.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

-He is totally fine with quickies. In fact I think he likes them. They get the job done and relieve him of some pent up energy. Though I don't think they'd be often. He is a god. He's got all the time in the world so he never really has to have quickies.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

-As i've said before he doesn't care about risking it. he'll fuck anywhere and I think he actually likes the risk aspect of it. When it comes to experimenting he's not so eager. He's kind of straightforward when it comes to fucking and doesn't feel the need to experiment. But if you brought up something that peaks his interest then he may consider trying something new.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

-I don't even know how long he'd be able to last but it would be a long time. Sukuna has been around for a ridiculous amount of time, he's the King of Curses...I think he'd enough stamina to last a while.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

-He does not own any toys and I don't think he'd be keen on using them. Why do you want to use toys when you have him? Of course, you could always show him just how fun they can be and that might get him on board with the idea.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-OH HE IS SUCH A TEASE. if he's in a mood he will not hesitate to edge you or tease you with your own orgasm. Remember, he likes to be mean and if he's feeling extra he might make you wait. He'll get himself off and then tease you until you start begging.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

-He's not loud when it comes to moans and groans but he's got a big mouth. He's constantly talking and uttering things under his breath, whether that be petnames, degrading remarks, or demands, he's always got his mouth running.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

-He would never admit it but he likes it when you leave scratches down his back. After he's done fucking you and he can feel a little sting on the skin of his back, he looks in the mirror and finds red marks trailing up and down his back. It kind of inflates his ego and he knows he fucked you good when he walks out of the room with an scratched up back.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

-I am too scared to say how big but I think we can all agree that this man is huge. Taking him would be a tad bit painful and lets hope he preps you enough beforehand.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. He honestly doesn't even need a reason to fuck you, he's constantly horny at this point lmao-

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-He probably waits for you to fall asleep first. His reason being, he doesn't want to pass out before you and seem all soft and vulnerable. Plus, he can't lie to himself, sometimes when he looks at you while you sleep, you look so cute...