#very very weird of you. keep it to yourself next time

[prettyboykatsuki]

mixed messages | r. sukuna

✮  tags ; gn + afab!reader, unhealthy relationships, not cheating but reader flirts with gojo while tipsy for fun, undefined relationships, fingering / making out, jealousy, modern!sukuna, sukuna and yuuji r brothers 18+

✮ wc ; 2k

✮  a/n ; a snippet / extension of my modern sukuna post for @arguablyferal. i hope it gives a clear-ish idea of what he's like!!

some more like. relationship explanation in an authors note at the end.

✮  synopsis ; you've never been able to get a good read on him. would he really come to a party just to keep you from flirting with another guy ?

somehow you doubt it.

He's hitting on you.

Gojo is, you think. Though you can't be sure since it feels...a little conceited to believe that a guy like that suddenly developed a genuine interest in you. You can think of a couple reasons he would hit on you, all of them to do with getting on Sukuna's last nerve in their never-ending rivalry.

But it's weird because it doesn't really feel like he's just messing around. As in, it doesn't seem like it's just for that reason.

You know Gojo. Not as close as Shoko or Getou might but enough to comfortably call yourself a distant friend. A little more than acquaintance but less then close.

He's facetious—melodramatic, really—totally by design. By necessity, some of it is an act, but you're good enough at reading him to know what's playful and what's not.

That's why you think that Gojo is really hitting on you. He's using the fact Sukuna, your...whatever, isn't here attending with you. He was supposed to be here but he flaked last minuted on coming with you. You ended up taking Yuuji and his friends though, anyhow.

You're letting him do it. He's serious about hitting on you, and he probably knows you're not very serious about returning his feelings.

But you're entertaining it, despite yourself.

Everyone you know is looking the other way while it happens too. Gojo is leaned close, sitting next to you in a plastic chair, and you're just a little bit buzzed. Humid summer air warms your skin, makes you want to sink into the night.

You're not touching, but you're too close for not-quite-friends. Gojo edges on touchy. A soft nudge here and there, the kind of proximity you shouldn't have. Gojo is a breath away, sober because he doesn't like alcohol.

And he's super friendly, which is nice.

A beat of silence settles between you as the night rolls in a little heavier.

Gojo says you what you assume he's been thinking about all night, without any real introduction.

"You should break up with him," He says, just over a can of soda with a kind of sincerity that makes you restless. You feel your nerves flip.

Your mouth moves before your mind has a chance to fill in the answer. You laugh. "I know."

"You're really too good for him, tsk," Gojo laments, clicking his teeth. Playful again, using just enough drawback so that you don't suffocate in the honesty. You shouldn't entertain this but the attention is nice. "And gosh, you're so much more fun without that dark cloud hanging around you, y'know"

You giggle unconsciously at the thought of Sukuna as a dark cloud. Big and broad with a deep voice—it's an astute comparison. Shaking your head, you give him a playful glance. "Am I really more fun? I feel like I'm not as good a conversationalist as a certain someone,"

Gojo smiles at you proudly. "I'm having fun at least."

You close your eyes and take another, much longer drink. "Yeah, me too."

"If you know you can do better, why bother with him? I figure that bastard might be holding you hostage but," He's serious again, brows raised. "You've got more options, you know?"

You shrug, absently. You don't know the answer yourself. It's one thing that Sukuna never quite lets you leave but it's another thing you come back to him every time. You settle on your reply with closed eyes then laugh a little too loud. Gojo doesn't startle.

"Who knows? But you know, thank you anyway. It's good to have options. Maybe it'll knock some sense into me,"

Friendly again. He's a nice guy you think.

"If it doesn't, make sure to give me a call. I'm pretty great too, y'know."

You give him a lighthearted smile.

It's hard to hear much over the loud thump of music. You're not very in touch with your surroundings and the pleasant air around you all but swallows you.

It takes you a minute. Longer than you care to admit, to realize that someone is approaching you. Even longer to realize who.

Sukuna is looming over you and Gojo when you finally look up.

"Having fun?"

You blink, pulling away to make sure you're hearing correctly. Sinking back into your chair, your eyes flicker up to whats casting shadow overhead. His voice almost bellows, deep and coarse but not loud.

"I thought you weren't coming," Is all you can think to say. Sukuna rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. I thought so too,"

He doesn't ask you to get up as much as he tugs you towards him. He's careful not to pull too hard but you come up still on a stumble, drink still in hand, and face in his chest. Your heart thumps, embarrassed by the sudden warmth. His hand sits on your lower back and suddenly there's a conversation happening overhead.

"Quit sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," He spits. He's talking to Gojo you realize.

"Be careful there, nii-san. You're gonna make it seem like you care."

Sukuna tenses under you before he relaxes again - rolling his eyes. He's not happy about it but you can hear that he's trying not to let it show.

"Stay out of it." Sukuna demands. Gojo whistles.

"Sure, sure. You two have fun there."

Sukuna turns you around like that, your face still in his chest as he drags you away. You hear Gojo laugh faintly as you walk further away from the crowd.

__

You don't really get any explanation from Sukuna as he packs you and himself in the backseat of his car.

He's quiet the entire walk there, and the air is so heavy your lungs can't find a breath around it. He doesn't say anything to you even as he opens the back door. He tells you to get in but doesn't show any emotion you discern.

Instead you end up laying in the backseat with Sukuna over you - cramped as his tongue slips all the way into your mouth and his hands grab your waist. All too sudden, without any ceremony at all.

You kiss back because he's being so suffocating and it's all you can think to do to appease him. As soon as he lets you breathe, you put a hand on his chest and push him away.

You make eye contact but he still hasn't said a word. "Are you mad?"

He sneers. "You tell me,"

He ducks down again to kiss you and you let him this time, doing your best to gauge what exactly he's thinking. You know he's upset, rather - but it's weird. Something is different about it.

His mouth is hot as he hands slide underneath your shirt further- his knees keeping your legs apart as his thigh presses against your clothed sex. You shiver, moaning into his mouth and Sukuna swallows the noise. Gasping, you pull back again.

"All you do is piss me off you brat," He tugs your lip back between his incisors as he speaks, voice bordering on a snarl. "You should know better than to cozy up to that idiot."

You squirm. "I wasn't cozying—"

"You think I'm fucking stupid? Think I don't got eyes to see with?" And then, like he's predicting your next question. "Yuuji texted me."

"And you came?" You stop, keeping him from going any further. "You came 'cause Yuu-chan sent you a picture of me and Gojo-kun....?"

He ignores your question. "Take your pants off,"

You make a face at him but oblige, hands unbuttoning your jeans as Sukuna practically tugs you out of them and your panties in one go. He sits back up on his legs and maneuvers carefully to keep his hands between your thighs. His middle finger runs through your slit, palm putting pressure on your clit.

He's rushing more than normal, mouth crushing yours again in a kiss so heavy it makes you gasp. You feel like you're imagining it but each time you pull back - his teeth sink into your lips until they're throbbing from how hard he's bitten them up.

He's possessive. Always has been. He's territorial over you in one way or another over everything, but it's usually only when you threaten to leave. There's a merit to what Gojo said about keeping you held down. But even in that, there's never any emotion stronger than annoyance to follow your little tantrums. You wouldn't call what you feel now desperation by any stretch.

But it's something more then simple possession and it makes you ache.

"I wasn't gonna do anything with him." You say half-way between a breath. You see his jaw tick with irritation at the mere thought. "It was just for fun—"

He quiets you with his fingers. With his hands, rough - spitting hard on your clit from where above making it splatter against your thighs. His fingers fingers the thick layer of spit and drag them down against your throbbing clit to make it wetter. He touches you hard and fast, places kisses against your jaw and collar before sinking his teeth into the clothed shape of your tits.

His fingers find your pussy not long after. Thick, scarred, intrusive - he slips them in one at a time. As much as he knows you can take until he touches that spot inside of you that leaves your whole body tingling. Knuckle deep, he presses his palms up against your clit to make sure you have the right friction. You moan his name loud, eyes rolling up into your head,

The windows are starting to fog.

"Sukuna,"

He grabs hold of your face with free hand, bordering on a snarl. It's mean you think, but more then that there's a genuine frustration to it that makes you shiver almost shamefully.

"You're mine." He sneers. You feel your cunt twitch unhelpfully at but Sukuna doesn't budge. Doesn't even go to make fun of you He just keeps growling, leaning in to kiss you - forcing his tongue into your mouth and pulling away again. "Get close with that bastard and I'll kill him."

Your stomach flutters in arousal at the aggression in it. The unreasonable, unhelpful, trained part of your brain nearly screams. He wants you, he wants you, he wants. It makes you wanna—

"G-gonna—gonna cum, fuck, Sukuna."

He kisses you again, murmuring against your lips. "Cum,"

Your thighs clamp around Sukuna's wrists as he continues to finger you, grinding yourself the edge of his palm as you ride out your high. Your voice pitches into a high whine, spine arching. It's rushed but intense, scratching the itch but not enough to tamp down the heat completely. You squirt around his fingers in a full blown gasp and find you can barely get your head above water.

You cum hard, convulsing. He doesn't move his hand until you grab him by the wrist and shake your head. Surprisingly, he listens easily and pulls away.

You pause and stare at him after you've caught your breath.

"What's wrong with you today?"

"Stay the fuck away from that guy."

You roll your eyes. "He's right. It's starting to sound like you love me or something. I wasn't gonna sleep with him anyway so chill out."

He scoffs. "Don't even fucking dream of it. I'd kill you both."

You take a second to look at him. You can't read him to save your life. But he's looking back at you, into you maybe, in a way that makes you wonder if there's something about him you're missing. You wrap your arms around his neck just to see if he'll tell you to stop clinging.

He doesn't though.

"Did you really come all the way here 'cause of what Yuu-chan sent you?"

He glares at you. "Are you deaf? Didn't I say that?"

"But then it sounds like you were jealous."

He rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

"....You were jealous? Really?"

"Shut up already," He says. And maybe it's the alcohol but you swear his face goes warm. "And seriously stay away from that idiot. If I see some shit like that again I'm locking you in the house and chaining you to my bed."

"Weird proposal but okay."

"Dumbass."

"You love me,"

He rolls his eyes and goes to kiss you. Doesn't deny it, you notice. You pretend not to be giddy.

"Whatever."

✮ extended authors note ; hi!! i hope sukunas personality made sense here.

my point with sukuna in modern is that i think it takes away a lot of his unsavory aspects but the deep sense of possession and ownership sort of stays. this is a modern au so he's different from canon in many ways.

he has a hard time committing but he also does not do things he doesnt want to so him spending time with you and wanting your loyalty are both genuine desires. he understands why you're entertaining gojo's flirting and rationally knows it's unfair to want loyalty from you.

but he's into you so he gets. fucking pissed anyway. skjsjd. anyways i hope u liked it and i hope it made sense!! i just wanted to add this incase!!!

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 17

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Poultryman leaves quickly but you can't help but keep feeling suspicious. Nothing concrete and his explanation does make sense but you can't help but feel that It was weird for him to just be there like that...

He said he heard of it but ... How did he do so quickly? And why was he just standing there...menacingly?

You don't get the time to think about it further and quickly forget about it as Cub messages you, the hero association wants to talk to you for some reason and that means something is wrong...

...You are a bit worried.

...

You uh... don't really know what to do, your fight and flight is going off in a way only a council of business people can make it go off.

The council is staring at you, you thought they wanted to tell you something not look at you with... judgement in their eyes for like ten minutes straight.

You try to break the tension by initiating the conversation yourself.

"H-hello?"

...

"You wanted to speak with me?"

They are still silent? Did you say something wrong? You literally just said hi-

"Indeed, a decision has been talen that we believe you should be informed of."

Ok, not silent anymore, that's good... Wait decision? They aren't demoting you or something, right?

"Did something happen?"

They look to eachother...ok...even more worrying. It's fine everything is fine, you are totally calm and chill and not anxious at all.

"No, but something will."

"O-ok?"

Points for being ominous for no reason.

"Hotguy, you cannot continue to work alone. The stakes are growing, it is becoming too dangerous.."

"Oh!"

Oh! Are they making a hero team? You always wanted one of those-

"We are not going to waste heroes on a team"

And just like that your hopes are dashed and crushed. Why are you still here...just to suffer?

"But then-"

"Hotguy, how would you feel about a sidekick?"

A... Sidekick? You don't know how to feel, superheroes are supposed to have them though so It must be a good idea!...Wait.

"W-who's going to be my sidekick? You said you weren't going to waste heroes."

"That has not yet bern decided, we plan to start an hiring process of sorts soon.""

Hiring? What's this? An office job?"

"Do not question us, Hotguy. It is thanks to us you are even here to begin with"

"Right! I am sorry."

"... This is where you come in"

"Huh?"

"A sidekick should not only be capable but should also work well with the hero, you'll have to be the final judge of character "

"Oh that makes sense... So I'll interview the candidates?"

"Not directly, we cannot risk that, you'll just have to prepare some questions for them to answer"

"Oh... Alright! I'll do it"

*Mumbo's pov*

You are in your apartment, Grian is off... somewhere. You have stopped questioning him around the time you walked on him peeling grapes ... You just hope he doesn't randomly die or something, that would be quite unfortunate.

You turn on the tv, not something you do often but it's a good way to pass the time when you aren't working on something which is thinking about it...very rarely. Surely today has been uneventful.

The mayor was kidnapping by his own office and Hotguy is randomly hiring a sidekick.

What in the world has happened today??

*Grian's pov*

So Hotguy is searching for a sidekick, what interesting timing.

Well, you cannot waste this opportunity to have fun, can you.

You prepare an outfit, you even have a perfect name for this.

Cuteguy.

...

You might have too many personas now... nah.

End of Chapter 4

[thatlotuscookie]

Odd request but... can I please ask for a comfort letter from Tadashi Yamaguchi where y/n is stressed out and starting to develop symptoms of anxiety, and Tadashi comforts them? Thanks!

✧･ﾟ: a/n: : Tadashi is such a sweetheart, and I wanted to capture that gentle, attentive side of him. Not a weird request at all, thank you for sending it out. This is for all of you who struggle with the same thing. I love you all<33 (Sorry for the late posting guys, i got very very sick but omw to recovery)

✧ Title: ✧ A Heartfelt Delivery ✧ ✧ Characters: Yamaguchi Tadashi x Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: When a surprise package from Tadashi arrives, it’s filled with items so thoughtful and kind that it feels like he knew exactly how to ease the weight on your shoulders. ✧ Content/Tags: Comfort Items, Thoughtful Gestures, Emotional Support, Established Relationship, Reader in Stressful Situations, Tadashi Being an Angel :3 ✧ WC: 925 words // 5.1k chars

The world felt impossibly heavy as you sat on the edge of your bed, your hands gripping the small box and envelope that had just arrived. Tadashi Yamaguchi’s name on the return address immediately set your heart fluttering. He hadn’t mentioned sending anything, and the sight of his familiar handwriting on the accompanying letter made your chest ache with both longing and curiosity.

Peeling the tape off the box, you found it was filled with thoughtful, heartfelt items. A small bag of your favorite chocolates, a plushie of a character you’d casually mentioned liking, a lavender-scented candle, and even a stress ball shaped like a cute little animal. It was so… him. Quietly thoughtful, attentive to details, and infused with care.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you picked up the letter. Carefully unfolding it, you began to read, and it was as though his voice was there in the room with you, filling the air with warmth.

Dear Y/N, Hey, it’s me. I noticed lately that things seem to be weighing you down more than usual, and I just wanted to let you know—you don’t have to carry all of that by yourself. I know how strong you are, and sometimes I think you forget it’s okay to lean on someone else. It’s okay to not be okay all the time. I thought maybe some little things might help lighten the load. I picked the chocolates because they’re your favorite, and the plushie? I remembered you said it was cute once, so now it’s yours. I also found the candle—it’s supposed to be calming, and lavender’s nice, right? Oh, and the stress ball was just too adorable not to get. I hope it helps a little.

You laughed softly through the tears welling in your eyes. He really had thought of everything. The next lines made you pause, your breath hitching.

I know how overwhelming stress can get. The way it creeps into your mind, making even the smallest tasks feel impossible. And when anxiety starts to take over, it feels like you’re trapped in this constant spiral of “what-ifs.” It’s exhausting, isn’t it? I want you to know I see how hard you’re trying, even if it feels like you’re barely keeping it together. His understanding words felt like a balm on your frayed nerves. You hugged the plushie to your chest as you continued reading, tears slipping down your cheeks. I’m here, Y/N. No matter what. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen—no judgment, no interruptions, just me and you. If you don’t feel like talking, that’s okay too. I’ll sit with you quietly, just to remind you you’re not alone. Take a deep breath with me right now. Seriously, let’s do it together. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Feel that? That’s the world slowing down for just a moment. You deserve those little moments of calm, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you find more of them.

Without realizing it, you followed his advice, taking a deep, shaky breath and exhaling slowly. The lump in your throat lessened, and for the first time in days, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter.

You’re not failing, even if your mind is telling you otherwise. You’re allowed to feel this way, but I need you to know this: you’re so much more than your worries or fears. You’re kind, brave, and capable, and you’ve already overcome so much. I see the way you keep pushing forward, even when it feels impossible, and I’m so proud of you for that. If things feel like they’re piling up, let’s tackle them together. One step at a time, okay? You don’t have to do it all at once. And if there are days where you can’t bring yourself to do anything, that’s okay too. Rest is just as important as anything else. Remember, Y/N, I believe in you. On the days you can’t find the strength to believe in yourself, I’ll do it for you. You’re not alone in this—ever. Take care of yourself, and let me take care of you a little too. I’m always here. With all my heart, Tadashi

You set the letter down carefully, clutching it and the plushie to your chest. The care package, the letter—everything—made you feel so seen, so valued, in a way you hadn’t been able to see yourself lately.

The next day at school, you spotted Tadashi near the gym, his usual kind smile lighting up his face as he spoke with one of his teammates. He caught sight of you, his expression softening into something even gentler.

“Hey, Y/N,” he called, walking over.

You didn’t wait for pleasantries, rushing forward and throwing your arms around him. Tadashi stiffened for a moment in surprise before wrapping his arms around you, his touch radiating reassurance.

“You okay?” he asked softly, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” you murmured, clutching the back of his jacket. “Thank you. For everything.”

His cheeks flushed, but his smile grew. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re feeling a little better.”

For the rest of the day, you noticed how he kept glancing your way, as if checking in silently. And every time your eyes met, he’d give you a little nod or an encouraging smile.

Tadashi Yamaguchi wasn’t just your rock—he was your safe place, and in moments like these, you knew you’d never have to face the weight of the world alone.

[crunchy-rocc]

what a weird thing to say

[hecksupremechips]

My ass was trying so hard not to jump up and down with glee playing yttd with my sister and getting to the shin reveal I was like MY GUY MY FUNNY LAD MY SILLY RABBIT

[thresholdbb]

Chronic inability to put the buttons on the correct side

How very non-binary of me

[nereidprinc3ss]

trolley problem

in which fem!reader has been gambling with her life and spencer reid is more than a little concerned

flangst, hurt/comfort warnings/tags: passive suicidal ideation from reader, she keeps risking her life, that really grinds Spencer’s gears, established relationship, existential dread, existential euphoria, lots of stuff about grief and death and self worth, not advocating for this, pretension from the author, blasphemy probably?, reader gets fuzzy from prescribed painkillers, arguing, hospital stuff, mention of sleep paralysis involving spiders, reader gets shot but she’s fineee, I pander to intro to philosophy takers, bau!reader, neurodivergent coded reader, if she’s not exactly like you I’m sorry, bean soup a/n: one day you’re in a writing slump literally the next you are in your notes app for six hours writing whatever the fuck this is but I think I love it even tho it’s weird and I hope u like it too!! btw this was gonna be called cotard's syndrome but then I never once talk abt cotard's but if u care that might be interesting context for the motif of not feeling human/alive, WC 3K

Spencer hasn’t spoken to you since the doctor left the room five minutes ago. 

The air is antiseptic as you take it deep into the hollows of your lungs and trap it there for a moment, trying to optimize oxygen intake without actually having to breathe very often. Hospital smell is as universal as it is suffocating. It reeks of everything but death—flowers, blood, bleach, vomit. A humiliating, desperate scramble to defy the very thing that defines mortality. It’s pathetic. It reminds you of the worst instances of failure and loss and denial in your life. It curdles your blood. Literally rots you from the inside out. 

You’ve had ample time to ponder that smell over the last few months because you keep ending up here, and some time ago you decided the institution of the hospital is inherently absurd. It’s stupid to think you could avoid the one absolute condition on your corporeal form: impermanence. It is the only thing that is promised, and people still waste their lives away running from it. It is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy. 

So around the time you acknowledged that hospitals are simply monuments to the self-importance of man, you gave up on trying too hard to preserve yourself. You’ve seen death too much and too often. You’ve tried staving it off with prayer and the miracles of modern medicine, and it never matters in the end because it’s all magical thinking anyway. All the wallowing and the bargaining and pleading never got you anywhere. 

You’ve accepted that from the moment you were born, you were marked for death. 

But you’re not a complete nihilist. You’re not even totally resigned to the abject certainty of death—because you’ve found a loophole.

Everyone has as many chances at escaping death as other people are willing to offer them at the cost of their own lives. Not many people are willing to make that trade—someone else’s life for their own—but you’ve decided you are. Because if not you, then who?

It’s not that you don’t see the value in your own life, as Spencer keeps making it sound. It’s just the opposite. You understand that you’ve got an extremely valuable resource, and you don’t just have to sit on it. There are things you can do. Choices you can make. Ways to defy death. 

Just… not yours. 

Or maybe you’re just in deep denial. 

Either way—this is a philosophy your boyfriend intentionally refuses to understand. He gets mad, or some kind of upset, every time you try to explain it. Usually he ends up leaving the room close to tears. You never feel good about it.

Right now he’s presumably trying to give you the silent treatment and not doing a very good job. 

“Stop holding your breath. Why are you—stop that.”

Spencer’s frowning, skin sallow and milk-blue under fluorescent lighting. Purple seeps from around his eyes like spilled wine on a white table cloth. Your stomach turns. 

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t tell you not to apologize. You don’t expect him to. 

“Why are you doing that? Does something hurt?”

Other than your entire bicep being on fire due to the 9 millimeter Luger it recently came into contact with?

“Not really. I just don’t like the smell of hospitals.”

At that, he gets stony again. Like, Medusa stony. You feel a tightening in your chest that has nothing to do with a lack of air. His arms are crossed. A silk lined blazer drapes over your lap, and you wonder if he’s cold in just that white button up. It’s translucent in this light, like onion skin, or maybe something less organic—the folds and wrinkles look like fabric, but lots of things look like something they aren’t. In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well. 

“So stop walking into active gunfire. You’ll spend a lot less time here.”

Every deep sigh (of which there have been several) calcifies you further. Ironically, you never feel less alive than you do in a hospital. 

“I didn’t walk into active g—”

“I’m not debating it with you. It’s not a discussion.”

“So you’re just going to be pissed at me for the rest of forever? I mean, if it’s not a discussion—what are you gonna do? Break up with me?”

You feel yourself dripping poison in the well. Even as you say it. As his head tilts toward you slowly and intently from his spot against the wall, and his warning gaze is cold and unforgiving and weighs 3.35 tons.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Talk?”

“Don’t try and manipulate me by implying that there are no options between permissiveness and dumping you!”

“I’m not manipulating you. And I don’t need your permission to do anything.” 

The first part is an incredulous scoff as well as a blatant lie. You are manipulating him. Chisel and all. At least, you were trying to. It clearly doesn’t work very well. His jaw clenches.  

“Is this worth it to you? Fighting with me like we’re children solely so you don’t have to take accountability?”

“Accountability for what? I made a choice. I don’t regret it. You’re upset because I did my job.”

A beat. 

Silence always makes you feel the gravity of your words. 

“Do you believe that?”

His voice softens so much, so quickly, it splinters down the middle. 

You’ve never been known for your light touch. For someone who sees eviscerated bodies nearly every day, and prides herself on her evolved understanding of mortality, you often forget other people are not, in fact, impenetrable marble—they are flesh and blood and bone, and you’ve splattered yourself in the evidence of that. 

“What?” You murmur. You easily turn timid, when you’re afraid you’ve been too heavy-handed. Spencer’s seen you sob over the birds who hit the windowpane and never reappeared from the shrubbery—their delicate wings, their little beaks—he didn’t mean to, Spencer, and now he’s dead! He’s seen you spend forty minutes catching a spider with a cup and an envelope rather than smush it, even though you have reoccurring episodes of sleep paralysis wherein a giant arachnid is sitting on your chest, hissing and clacking its pincers. He knows you are, at your core, kind and good. 

It’s a little scary for someone to know that about you. It’s a little scary when you see your own vulnerability reflected in their eyes and the way they speak to you, the way you see it in him now. 

“Do you believe that the choices you make regarding your safety don’t concern me at all?”

“They’re… my choices to make,” you whisper, but you’re less sure than you were a minute ago. 

“I’m not talking about that—I’m talking about how it feels like you are trying to kill yourself every time we’re in the field.” His voice shakes. You swallow. “You have been hospitalized for four serious injuries sustained on the job in the past five months. Every time I bring it up, you—you talk about life like it’s optional for you. Like you’re not only willing to give it up but are actively looking to throw yourself in harm’s way every chance you get. You think that doesn’t terrify me?”

There’s a small chip in the paint on the wall next to him roughly the shape of Africa. 

“It’s not like that. I’m… I’m just having an unlucky streak.”

He snaps. 

“Luck isn’t going to get between you and a bullet. Ever.”

“It’s my job, Spencer.”

“No. It is a risk of the job. Not a defining feature or requirement. But you keep running toward gunfire like you have a quota to meet.”

“Spencer, I’m not doing it at you. I’m not trying to get myself hurt.”

“Well it doesn’t really feel like you’re trying to avoid it, either,” he shoots back immediately, and you feel the anguish radiating from him until it lodges in your own chest, like it was always yours. Maybe it was. 

You want to make it better, but you don’t know how, and even if you did, he’s pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward the door. 

“Where are you going?” You call, a little too desperately for your liking. 

“You need to eat something.”

Which translates roughly to he’s pissed and upset and he needs to leave the room. You’ve done this song and dance before. 

However, food and an absence of him are contenders for the absolute last two things you want right now. 

“Spencer, please don’t—”

But the door is already whooshing closed. 

You stare at the grey and white checkered floor. Light bounces off the waxen reflection—some sort of parallel universe you can’t reach, perhaps. The whole room is desaturated. A mechanical humming threatens to drive you insane. It doesn’t feel like a place for living humans. You’re not convinced you are one. 

When he comes back, maybe ten minutes later, nothing’s moved at all. In fact you’re not even sure you’ve been breathing. 

The door closes as quietly as it opens. 

This time, wordlessly, Spencer comes to you. You see his shoes first—his serious adult shoes. You wish he was wearing his Converse. 

Then you see the bottle of apple juice he’s cracking open for you. Blue lid. Same kind you always get. 

“You didn’t bring food.”

“You wouldn’t have eaten it.”

Fair enough. 

You take the bottle with your good arm and sip shallowly—all that adrenaline and the subsequent interpersonal strife has left you nauseous. The drink is too sweet. It clashes with the tang of metal in your mouth. 

Still, you drink enough to satisfy him, and then you’re tossing his jacket aside before balancing the bottle between your thighs so you can screw the lid back on. He doesn’t go back to the couch or his spot on the wall. 

Spencer doesn’t pull away when you lean into him, but it does take him a moment to reciprocate. You’re still grateful all the same when he cradles the back of your head to his stomach like you’re made of porcelain. 

“I don’t think you understand how upset I am,” he says quietly. 

Only Spencer Reid could be furious with you and still hold you like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“That’s not good enough. You need to stop risking your life like that.”

He doesn’t get it. Your brows flutter as they try to furrow but even holding that expression saps you. Maybe the pain meds are finally kicking in. 

“I just wanna help people.”

“That doesn’t explain to me or justify your urge to do it at the cost of your own life. We all want to help people, angel. The whole team. That’s why we do what we do. But we don’t run into shootouts. We don’t split off and provoke people with guns when we’re unarmed and unprepared.”

“But it worked. She got away.” You feel a spark of fulfillment at the memory of Gloria Sanchez in JJ’s arms just before the ambulance doors had slammed you into your first cage of the night. 

“We don’t know if he was going to kill her. He might not’ve fired at all if you didn’t go running toward him. That wasn’t strategic, it was reckless and irresponsible and you know that. I know you do. So something else is going on.”

The pressure in your nose that usually precipitates tears comes as a surprise. 

“I just—if that’s how I can save someone, why shouldn’t I, you know? Why do they have less of a right to live than I do just because they’ve been deprived of the choice? If I have a choice, and they don’t, I should choose to… to help them. That’s my job.”

For a long moment, you listen to your own breath, muffled by Spencer’s shirt, and the mechanical humming, and something dripping, and the low, buzzy chatter of nurses far down the hallway.

When Spencer next speaks you get the sense he’s holding a lot back. His voice is taut enough it wavers slightly. Taut enough that if he weren’t speaking so quietly he might be yelling. It’s like pinpricks all over your body—not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you’re paying attention. 

“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Do you understand me?”

And yes, in theory, you do. But that doesn’t negate your original point. It only takes one life or death moment for you to utilize the most valuable resource you have. What happens after is no longer your concern. 

“On the psych evals you helped develop it asks if you think it’s appropriate to sacrifice the one to save the many. The answer is supposed to be no. If you say yes you get flagged. The FBI frowns upon… lever-pullers. And that’s exactly what I’m doing if I let one person die when I could’ve potentially saved them.”

“Protecting your own life is not pulling the lever. What you’re doing isn’t smart or morally righteous. You’re just throwing yourself across the tracks, too. If you were to fail a psych eval right now it would be because you’re passively suicidal. And you know what? The FBI also tends to frown upon self-immolative delusions of grandeur and girls who like to play sacrificial lamb.”

“’M not a… sacrificial lamb…”

“No,” Spencer agrees quietly, stroking your hair. “You’re not.”

And you can’t react to the fragility in his voice, or the content of his words, and the fact that when he says it he means something different—you can’t do anything about it. You can only catalogue it. You can only know that he loves you, and feel a little guilty about it.

Some time passes. You don’t know how long he remains standing so you can doze against him. He does not smell like the hospital. He’s the antidote for whatever grief they distill from widows and orphans before aerosolizing it through the whole place. 

“Baby?” He asks eventually. You know the lilt of it. He’s been thinking. 

“Hm?”

He hesitates. 

“Can we talk about you maybe taking some time off of work?”

“You heard the boss,” you mumble. “I can’t come in for at least a week.”

“I mean beyond that.”

You intend to respond, but by the time you open your mouth you’ve lost the prompt in all the brain fog. 

“You’re so comfy,” you murmur dreamily. “Thank you for being mad at me.”

If he responds, you miss it. 

You’re imagining the bed waiting for you at home, once the doctor is done observing you—warm, neatly made. Blankets woven with soft fibers. A mattress that will sink under your weight. You think of Spencer, who’s shaping himself to you, Spencer, who intentionally inhales when you exhale at night to make room for the rise and fall of your chest against his. You think of the imprint of his buttons on your cheek. You are both flesh and blood and bone. 

Strange, pill-induced half dreams and visions and memories take over. You’re in that alleyway again. That man fires. You don’t blink or scream or feel. 

Just before the bullet makes contact you’re standing in front of the Pietá. It’s massive. Spencer is there, too, holding your hand. 

You can’t actually see him, only, you know he’s there. You feel his warmth, his presence, when he leans over to whisper in your ear. The way you know him goes beyond sight. 

The Pietá—meaning the pity, in English—is 6’7” and six feet wide. It weighs 6,700 pounds. Michelangelo had to quarry the block of marble himself. He was only 25 when he finished. The Basilica keeps it behind bulletproof glass. 

Jesus and Mary behind bullet proof glass. 

God. Who’d try to kill Jesus a third time? He’s already dead. 

Besides—they’re both made of stone. Bullets would probably just ping right off of them. Or maybe they’d shatter just like you did. 

Probably not though. You’re not actually made of marble. You’ve no idea what it feels like to be a statue and get shot at. You sure know how it feels as a human, though—and it feels like shit. You don’t really know why you keep doing it. None of your reasons are good enough for Spencer, and he’s, generally speaking, pretty smart about some things. 

Maybe you’re tired of being human.

Maybe you’re tired of sleeping on your arm funny and waking up to a hand in your bed that doesn’t feel like yours and remembering all the hands you’ve held moments before they couldn’t hold yours back. Or tired of those moments where you are being held and it’s so unbelievably perfect and then someone has to let go, or when someone you love hugs you goodbye and you realize that there will always be a final I love you, or simply getting older and watching potential life paths fall away like rotten fruit to the ground. Maybe life is sometimes so good it hurts and you can’t bear it. So you tempt fate. You walk a tightrope because even if you fall and it can’t ever feel good again—at least it can’t hurt either. At least you won’t lose anymore. 

And yet. 

It does feel good, sometimes. Sort of often, actually. Even when it’s awful. 

Dead Jesus and Mary, with their marble skin and their bulletproof glass and their holiness and their virginity and all the other things they have that you don’t. Nobody can hurt them anymore. Not ever. 

Maybe that’s something you envy.

But you doubt they’ve ever been so terribly, wonderfully alive as you’ve been, or as comfortable as you are like this, leaning into Spencer’s warmth and his softness, in the hospital, or the Vatican, or your dreams. Your bicep was ruined but it’s healing. You are capable of ruin and rebirth in the same lifetime. In the same day, in the same hour. 

You doubt that in 520 years, behind bulletproof glass and unyielding, eternally flawless skin, they’ve ever felt as invincible as you do now. 

You doubt they ever could. 

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

♡ gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[nightingale-prompts]

Batboy Missing

First | Previous | Next

Danny despite everything still liked acting on his own. He needed some space.

Bludhaven was his stomping ground now but it wouldn't be so bad to secretly fly into Gotham. Definitely not to see the other robins or anything. Especially not to see Red Robin.

They may have met briefly some time ago on a rooftop.

Dick didn't even tell him that Red Robin was his age and was cute. Dick already didn't like it when Danny said he thought Tim was attractive. Honestly, he had no room to talk he dated Barbara. It wouldn't be weird if he didn't overthink it.

Still, Red Robin was definitely his type. Then again if he had a dine for every red vigilante he had a crush on he would have 2 dime and well you know the rest.

Danny found it hard not to think about their first meeting.

"Wow, you are much more stunning up close."

The voice came from none other than Red Robin who almost snuck up on Danny who had let him approach.

Danny wondered what exactly the teen was seeing when he looked at Danny.

Red Robin eyed Danny with an intense probing curiosity. Not like how a scientist looks at a butterfly pinned to a board but like a photographer eyes a wild animal. Respect, awe, and excitement.

"You aren't so bad yourself," Danny responded keeping a healthy distance between them.

"Batboy right? I'm Red Robin. Call me Red." He held put his hand to shake.

"Batboy. Call me...uh...Batboy." Danny said awkwardly.

Red Robin seemed to get closer and closer when Danny wasn't looking directly at him.

It was throwing Danny off because the moment had gotten too close his wings reflexively unwrapped from around his shoulders.

"I was right, fruitbat wings. But they connect to your back, not your arms. Like having two sets of arms." Red Robin mumbled as he slid a gloved hand down one wing.

"He-Hey! You shouldn't touch a bat's wings like that." Danny shivered, his face was on fire.

"Oh, are your wings sensitive?"Red Robin teased pulling back and holding up his hands in feigned innocence. "Or is it that it's too personal? Should I buy you dinner first?"

Danny wanted to be upset but he felt the opposite. Maybe because it felt like the teen was playing with him.

Their meet-cute was ended quickly unfortunately since an emergency came up on Robin's end.

That's not why Danny is visiting Gotham. He could just be trying to see the other Robin or Batgirl. Batgirl is cool.

Danny stealthed his way through Gotham towards Crime Alley when a dark shadow was spotted nearby. Danny immediately dropped into an alleyway assuming it was Batman and trying to avoid him.

The young bat knew it was unwise to spread his wings here. They were too liable to get caught in the narrows. He shifted his wings away but he needed something else to help him. Sure he still had his ghost powers, but here in Gotham using them too much risked getting the eyes of the spirits here. Not to mention the Observers. Danny knew to limit his abilities and not overstep boundaries. Danny could only rely on shifting since it was considered a secondary ability.

Danny tried to remember any anatomy he had memorized that could help him. Shifting is very complicated and seeing something isn't always enough, he needed to know the function the further removed it was from his human form.

As Danny rethought his next move someone had sensed him. Red Hood was prowling the area.

Red Hood wasn't completely unaware of Batboy. He knew little of what was going on in Bludhaven but social media was an explosion of posts about Batboy the new sidekick to Nightwing. But the only thing he really knew about the teen was that he had giant bat wings.

The kid that is currently wandering around the alley does not have batwings.

It was just a kid hiding behind a dumbster and about to get mugged.

He was going to save the kid but it wasn't necessary as he watched the kid kick the would-be robber in the face.

When Hood finally got close enough to talk to the kid as he stood over the fallen man he saw a set of Lazarus green eyes shine in the dark like a cat.

Creepy.

A sinking sense of dread seemed to shroud him before passing through him like a cold breeze.

The green-eyed kid stared into his soul as he crept closer. A pull in his chest towards him bubbled inside like a cauldron of oil.

The white-haired teen looked at him with a deep weary sorrow. Without warning Jason felt arms wrap around his shoulders as the teen hugged him. Deep inside of Jason, he felt something settle.

"Im so sorry." The boy said "Let me help."

Without another word the teen pushed his hand into Jason's chest. Just through his body without resistance.

"What the hell are you-" Jason didn't finish as a foul brackish fluid came out of his mouth.

"This filth is not your own. It is polluting you." He said pulling his hand out. "Catch your breath. Slowly. In and out."

Jason felt like a heavy weight was lifted off his chest. Like this was his first breath of air since his revival.

In the teen's hand was a blob of black tar that he rolled into a ball before promptly popping it into his mouth.

"Ew." Jason said.

"Don't judge me. It tastes disgusting but if it isn't consumed it'll infect someone else." He said.

"What are you?"

"....a ghost." The teen paused before responding as if not knowing what to call himself.

"A ghost? As in undead?" Jason knew this had to be some kind of serial joke. It had to be.

"I don't make the rules. I'm a ghost. And you are a revenant. You are just a more alive version of me. Closer to life than death." The teen said.

"Who are you then?" Jason asked this time calmer as he steadied his nerves.

"Call me Phantom for now. I'm just trying to hide from Batman. I don't want him trying anything." Phantom said going back to looking for Batman.

Jason still had questions for Phantom.

"Alright follow me then. The Bat isnt welcome around here and I have a safe house you can wait out in." Jason sighed turning to leave.

The teen seemed to get that Jason wasn't going to hurt him and followed.

*Dick back in Bludhaven*

"Where is my baby?!"

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your core pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt delicious inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[srjlvr]

꒦꒷ enhypen ! oopsies…! fans actually caught your relationship….

in which you and your partner are really awful at keeping your relationship as a secret. || Idol-ot7!Enhypen X Idol-fem!reader … full fluff!! … no warnings!! … not proofread<3 || note. this one is very similar to the shipping scenarios, but not quite the same.

ε ї з — heeseung ; having temporary matching tattoos.

you and heeseung felt a bit childish in your last hangout at your dorm. you told him you ordered those little temporary tattoos that kids do these days and joked about doing it. one thing led to another and both of you ended up with a weird heart shape right on the back of your hand.

“i think it looks cute” you looked at it and smiled.

heeseung chuckled and kissed your cheek, “but you’re cuter”

“if i could i would get a permanent tattoo with you”

“our fans will probably notice it if we do”

you forgot the next day that both of you have a performance to do.

no one noticed it, it was as if it never happened, your staff members and manager didn’t even notice, your own group members were too oblivious to it as well.

it was only after your performance that a hashtag with both of your names became popular on every platform that ever existed. fans going crazy and posting pictures of your performance with the tattoo circled, then compared to heeseung’s picture with the tattoo as well.

not only that, you actually uploaded a photo where it was clearly seen and not even a bit hidden. your company thought they were fast enough to delete it, but fans are much quicker these days.

it was very much needless to say that you found yourself in your CEO’s office the next day.

ε ї з — jay ; performing and showing everyone your matching bracelets.

jay had recently bought the both of you matching bracelets. he knows you love bracelets and he’d do anything to make you happy.

your bracelet had a few charms he picked that perfectly completed his own charms, if you ask any other person, they’d tell you it’s the perfect matching symbol.

being too excited about the bracelet idea, you forgot to take it off before your comeback performance.

at first fans thought it was just a beautiful bracelet your stylists gave you.

that was until you decided to show it again on live, and jay decided going on live and showing his matching one five minutes after your live ended.

“is that a new bracelet? yes actually, isn’t it so pretty?” you answered your fans’ questions and showed it off.

“show us your bracelet?” jay read one comment and immediately showed it on screen, “i love this bracelet a lot, i don’t think i’ll ever take it down” he chuckled.

not even a minute passed and the whole comment section began asking about his bracelet again and why it looks so similar to yours. jay’s eyes widened and quickly came up with an excuse to end the live.

“please tell me you took it off before going on live” he told you over the phone.

“i did not, why?” you asked innocently.

“i guess i’ll see you tomorrow at the CEO’s office, i love you” he chuckled.

“oh,” you started laughing, “it’s about time we reveal it actually”

ε ї з — jake ; mindlessly hanging out in public.

life had been so stressful lately for both you and jake. him being on tour and you being too busy with your upcoming comeback just added up to the stress you’ve been already having.

you barely found time to hang out or even have video calls. the time difference was sometimes too much for you and you found yourself going days over days without texting properly.

“i miss you so much” he said in one of your very rare video calls.

“i missed you so much more” you replied quietly.

you’ve been on a call for more than four hours, either of you wanted to hang up, you don’t know when will be the next time you’ll be able to talk like that.

as soon as he came back to korea, he texted you, asking to meet up and hang out at the very late night hours.

you being so drunk in love, missed your partner and had to hold him again in your arms, you agreed instantly and made your way to the dorm as fast as the light.

after reuniting he suggested both of you will get out and get some fresh air, the inside was suffocating both of you.

you decided to have a walk in the nearest park and even go to that one arcade he told you he’d take you to when he has the chance. you ended the night with some ramen you bought from the closest seven eleven store.

this idea of publicly hanging out without your managers or even group members knowing was a mindless idea, but you missed each other too much to care.

fans went crazy the day after when dispatch revealed pictures of the both of you hanging out, and just then you realized you fucked up.

ε ї з — sunghoon ; posting the same location photos.

you and sunghoon recently went on a vacation in a very quiet yet beautiful place. no one could recognize you no matter where you went. it was the perfect place for the both of you.

sunghoon brought his cameras, and you as well brought yours. of course, the perfect couple would also have some shared interests.

“the view is so beautiful” you took in the beautiful view you were looking at, and raised your camera to take a picture of the beautiful place.

“you’re way prettier than the view” sunghoon back-hugged you with one hand and raised a camera with the other to take a picture of the view as well.

you chuckled at his remark and shook your head, “you’re the prettiest view i’ve ever seen”

a few days later and your vacation sadly ended. on your way you asked sunghoon for suggestions, he told you which ones he thinks were the prettiest and you happily agreed.

the next day you uploaded the pictures you were discussing on with sunghoon, and got lots of compliments for your little hobby.

it didn’t take that long for sunghoon to also upload a post. you being a supportive girlfriend opened your fake account to give him a like and look at the post your pretty boyfriend uploaded.

your smile quickly faded when you noticed his pictures were oddly similar to yours. you entered the comment section and fans were already discussing on whether this is all a coincidence or not.

you decided to leave the post on, and hope for the best, knowing that you and sunghoon are probably going to get an angry lecture.

ε ї з — sunoo ; uploading the wrong tiktok.

you and sunoo filmed the new comeback’s challenge after constant beggings that it would be only the two of you.

the staff members were so supportive of your relationship and hyped you up a lot.

“let’s do one for fun and a serious one” he told you and you nodded.

“wait what do you mean one for fun?” you asked.

“one that i’d keep for me only to watch” he cutely smiled and hugged you.

you wondered what he was up to but cooperated and did your best for this tiktok, on the few freestyle seconds, he kissed your cheek and winked at the camera while you were left blushing.

“that was the one for fun?” you asked and he nodded, “we can’t show that to fans, they’ll know we’re a couple the second they see it”

you filmed another one with a cute pose at the end and agreed it’d be the best one to upload. you thanked everyone as you were called back to your dressing room, you kissed goodbye your boyfriend and signaled him to text you.

a few hours passed and you noticed enhypen uploaded a new tiktok. you tapped the screen to give it a like even before watching it until the end.

you focused on your dance moves and the way your chemistry with your boyfriend was displayed over the screen, but your mouth dropped to the floor when you noticed the last seconds of the tiktok.

it was the wrong one. and it was too late to delete because fans were already reposting it and going crazy over it.

ε ї з — jungwon ; forgetting to hide your framed photobooth pictures.

due to their upcoming reality show participation, enhypen members were required to clean their rooms from any suspicious things that fans might see.

the reality show showed enhypen members’ own room and dorm in general. so the rooms had to be very cleaned and organized.

jungwon took in the request very seriously and cleaned every part and any corner of his room, or so he thought.

your framed pictures stood there right next to his bed stand, he can’t go sleep without it being right next to his head and he forgot to hide it somewhere else.

he only figured about it when they showed him his own room in the show, he tried to hide it and tried to stay unbothered as much as he can so fans won’t notice anything suspicious.

too bad fans have 6/6 vision and they’re actually specialists at finding stuff like these.

as soon as the show was aired, fans tried to find out who’s the mysterious girl in the framed picture who’s seen kissing his cheek and smiling widely with him.

luckily, the picture was very much blurred so it was hard for fans to see, it was an easy pass for the company to say that these pictures just so happened to be pictures with his sister.

the company’s plans were ruined when you decided to post a vlog in your room and there sat the same framed picture behind you. it was very far and really hard to notice, but as we all know your fans are crazy.

“you forgot to hide it too?” you giggled over the phone as he laughed as well.

“i love this picture too much i guess”

“i don’t regret not hiding it”

“me neither”

ε ї з — riki ; posting a selca with his sunglasses.

everyone knows about riki’s obsession with sunglasses. he’s like the sunglasses king.

you yourself even bought him a few sunglasses that he tends to wear very often. fans don’t notice it since they always assume it’s always him who buys them.

however, there’s one particular sunglasses that riki has been known for. it’s one of the rarest sunglasses and riki decided to draw some random things on the sides of it and showed it to his fans.

he was so proud of himself, showing his pure talent on his favorite sunglasses, it’s actually one of the sunglasses you bought him as well, but no one has to know that.

you asked for his sunglasses one day, you felt cute and your outfit matched perfectly with his sunglasses.

you also asked him to take a few photos of you with his sunglasses. he smiled through the whole process.

“wait let’s do it like that” you said as you bent down and held the sunglasses that were sitting right on the end of your nose.

“you look so cute” he complimented, “focus on taking the pictures instead of simping!” you ordered and he laughed.

“you can keep them to yourself! it looks better on you”

“i’d never do that to my very lovely boyfriend! ….but if you insist then i will”

one of the first mistakes you made was not noticing a glass window was right behind you, and so the reflection of riki was much seen behind you.

you uploaded the pictures, feeling so cute and excited about the outfit with your boyfriend’s sunglasses.

your second mistake was forgetting that those sunglasses were only unique to riki since he designed and drew on it on his own.

it didn’t take that long for fans to notice his sunglasses and his reflection behind you.

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 @dimplewonie (bold means cannot be tagged)

[anantaru]

what about friends w benefits w aventurine but he's actually in love or something idkk im just love with ur writing♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

・✶ ｡ synopsis — aventurine and you have sworn that your special relationship would never cross the most important line <3

warnings — fwb, spooning position, big dick aventurine is in love, fem! reader <3

aventurine lays behind you as his nose silently forges a road up your neck and behind your ear for his lips to swiftly follow— for once, he controls himself and leisurely drapes one arm around your waist, pressing your back against his cold chest.

you cannot see it, yet his eyes glint with that familiar mix of curiosity and, well, something else— something deeper that he never voiced nor actually planned to voice at all.

since your arrangement had been clear from the start;

friends with benefits, point blank, in fact, it helped the both of you let go of much needed steam every now and then— it's perfect, truly, if feelings aren't involved that is.

yet here it began, because every time you were together there was an unspoken tension on his part, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

he strokes over your waist now, his touch lingering way longer than necessary as he slowly lined himself up with your heat, "you feel a little tense," he whispers, voice soft, heart beating.

as he inserts his tip, his fingers trail down your bare back, sending a multitude of shivers across your skin as you immediately lean back into his touch, craving the comfort and the thrill— the somewhat exciting thought of being intimate with a man like aventurine himself yet keeping it hidden from outsiders, even from your own emotions.

as his hands roamed over your body, exploring familiar territory, you felt the practiced ease of your routine and just how well he knew you by now— not only that, but your body.

ugh, when he preaches his cock through you for the very first time this time you moan out instantly, it makes him groan too, you know, even louder when you gets breathless from the pressure building in your stomach.

far away from your sight, there was always an underlying tenderness in his actions, a carefulness that contradicted the casual nature of your relationship, "e-enjoying yourself?" he drawls, his voice low.

if he could only tell you just how beautiful you are without making it sound weird.

you grind back as he squeezed your ass, hard, against his palm— that's more like it, that's how you like it and how your special friendship should be like, aventurine knows, he needs to know.

you grind against his pelvis, circling your hips, fucking back into him without pattern and turning into an embarrassing mess of moans and whimpers.

you whine, trying to escape the hot curl and fluttering in your chest, "always with you, you know t-that."

and yeah, that's something he loves to hear— next to pressing and thrusting into your cunt until he feels your slick slither down his shaft and oh? having his fingers on your clit too? making you feel so good.

aventurine cannot stop himself anymore, with hunger he rolls and rubs his fingers harder against your clit, faster, ignoring the twinge in his wrist as you began to mercilessly shake against his chest, circling your hips and squeezing him with your hole.

it's so filthy, having his spit coat and mark you up while his thick cock snapped you open in each and every thrust of his— and you always knew it'll hurt a little whenever he twitches within your walls, he must hurt with a size like that, in fact, just looking at him and you'd immediately know he's packed down there.

in spite of fact something behind your sight happens— because you see, his gaze softens for a moment, and there it was, a flicker of something he always tries to hide— a deep, unspoken affection that fuck, damn it, he was in love, aventurine fucking loved you.

he began to kiss your neck more furiously, kiss, suck and bite it— then go slower again, messily lap and add enough saliva on your skin so it'd glow even through the shadowed bedroom as to savor this very moment.

sheer unawareness covers the deepest truths— while love, lust and passion, all formed to dust in order to keep your friendship going for as long as he was able to would not resort in any problems.

no trouble, correct? if only you knew how it has been killing him inside.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[bubbysawyer]

how the slashers sleep (with reader)

billy lenz:

stares. he stares at you a lot. he can't sleep...well, or often.

WILL trap you in a snare of limbs when he eventually does fall asleep. you may not escape until he is ready

clingy. clingy, clingy, clingy. clingy. you're his, deal with it

probably talks in his sleep?

wakes up a lot and wakes you up in the process; but it's normal and you just kiss his head and will him back to sleep.

brahms heelshire

his sleep schedule is mandatory, duh, so. you're going to sleep when he does or he'll throw a fit

he's an honestly very cuddly man when it comes to you. he loves you, he's glued to you, he's addicted to you

he LOVES waking up with you in the morning and going to the kitchen for breakfast (that you make)

he absolutely disrupts you making breakfast with kisses

jason voorhees

he's undead, he doesn't sleep, but he pretends for you!

he loves watching you sleep, he strokes your hair and sighs to himself about how beautiful you look

might doze-not-sleep with you next to him. you soothe him.

he makes breakfast before you get up. he's a master of making breakfast.

the collector/asa emory

tells you how much he cherishes you as his favorite pet (probably giving you physical gratification as well) before lying beside you

very into cuddling you. touching you in general.

WILL NOT sleep until he makes you feel special. no negotiation.

sleeps like a stone. you cannot wake this man yourself, but he does wake up for other things...such as alarms.

makes you an amazing breakfast in the morning.

this man essentially worships you as his little pet, and he is your beloved master.

chop top sawyer

will most likely want to make out

music. at least two albums before be can get tired, this dude is god damned Energy As Hell and music helps him get tired/relax

...might try and grope you a bit, so, uh.

falls off the bed a lot, usually head-first. does not wake up at all. hope you like seeing your boyfriend snoring upside down with his face on the floor bc that's your normal morning

pyramid head

will just look at you. he doesn't sleep. does he?

BUT he loves lying down with you in a soft mattress. it's nice on his back.

he WILL at least try to shove his weird, long tongue into your mouth bc that's...how he kisses you, so

he might doze off a bit for a while

purrs in his sleep when he feels you hold him

any noise in the night will alarm him and you will probably have to grab his arm or w/e to keep him inside. it is safest inside; but it is hard for him to relax bc he does not want any threat around you

herbert west

goes to bed at a certain time or a random time due to him being a workaholic freak

showers each night, puts on his night clothes

kisses you deep and tugs you tightly to him, muttering into your ear just how much he needs you, how much he wants you here

he knows he's...like how he is, and in the past he did not make it clear how much he NEEDS you with him

sleeps on his back but ends up tangled up with you in like 45 minutes.

he talks in his sleep. not loudly, he literally mutters his own notes.

[gojoest]

the one with the role play — gojo satoru

— your husband breaking character during role play after you mention the one thing you shouldn’t have

suggestive, MDNI, established relationship (you’re married), written with f! reader in mind but think i kept it pretty gn, alcohol (nobody gets drunk, just a super quick mention of it as a choice of drink at the bar), strangers at the bar role play (or a failed attempt tbh), based on this talk post of mine, wc: 1.3k

“hey, love”, satoru broke the silence while the two of you were folding the laundry one afternoon. (yes, the strongest sorcerer always helps his wife with chores)

“say, love”, you quickly responded, without looking at him.

“you know, i was thinking — we’ve never tried role play”

“that’s what folding clothes made you think of?”, glancing at him you chuckled, “interesting”, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“we’ve done pretty much everything but that. you’re not curious?”

now was not the time to tell him that you had done this before, with your ex, and that it was fun. no need to remind him that you had other partners before him and make him lose sleep for days to come, like that one time when he found your diary from high school in the attic and read about all the crushes and boyfriends you had. it took weeks and a lot of coddling on your part (you even had to start a satoru only diary and write his name into little hearts) for him to get over it. so you figured you’d keep this little detail to yourself and take it to the grave. or it would be your husband taken to the grave due to lethal jealousy steaming from the fact that another man had laid his hands on you in the past.

“s-sure”, you stuttered, thinking back to that excruciating memory, then cleared your throat before continuing — “yea, we can do that, why not”

“good then”, he tossed the shirt in his hands aside and stepped closer to you. circling his arms around your waist from behind — one hand eventually resting over your chest while the other stopping at your navel and gently rubbing it — he possessively pressed you against his chest and hummed contently.

“someone’s very excited about this, huh?”, you placed your hand over his and tilted your head back to peek at him.

“oh? can you tell?”, he grinned, playfully pushing his hips against you.

“that giant thing in your pants poking me from behind is giving you away, i’m afraid”

“it’s your fault though”, his head craned down so his lips could reach your forehead and trail soft kisses down to the tip of your nose.

standing on your tip toes you raised your hands to cup his cheeks and pecked him on the lips. “of course, it’s my fault that you’re getting all hot and bothered in the middle of the day like some pervert”

“i always get hot and bothered thinking about you”, he pecked you back, then slowly turned you around (concerned that you might hurt your neck if you kept that position up).

“any ideas?”, you asked.

“8pm, the bar around the corner”

“we’re to enact the classic strangers meeting at the bar, huh? okay. anything else?”

“nope, let’s improvise”

[8:13pm, at the bar]

sitting alone on the stool at the bar counter, you kept playing with your now half empty martini glass, drawing circles with it on the surface. you felt a bit weird sitting here pretending to be single and ready to mingle. but oh well.

he was late. you took another sip of your drink and grabbed your phone to check the time again.

“next one’s on me”, a painfully familiar voice approached you from behind. “if you would allow me, that is”

he was late on purpose, you figured. waiting for you to almost finish your drink so he could easily start a conversation by using such a lame but still quite effective line.

“i don’t normally accept drinks from strangers”, you gazed at him, “but an exception every now and then wouldn’t hurt, i assume”

a puckish smile curved on his lips. “may i?”, taking his sunglasses off, he asked for your permission to sit next to you.

“sure”

you were quite impressed at how seriously he was actually taking this, not breaking character even for a second so far. he had made up a brand new persona of himself, introducing himself as “sato kouya” — the ceo of a leading pharmaceutical company, temporarily living in tokyo for the purpose of a big business project.

“enough about me though”, eyes focused on you, he leaned his elbow on the bar counter and placed his chin on his palm. “tell me about yourself — what’s a beauty like you doing alone?”

you giggled (he was just so cute right now). “you’re lucky that i am alone — if we had met a week earlier, i would’ve still been married”

his expression froze at your words. the smile from a few seconds ago was now bleeding into a confused, almost creepy, look on his face — his lips still stretched into a grin while his eyes told a different story.

“hmmm… how so?”, he spoke in a monotone, his grin slowly fading away.

it would be a lie to say his weird reaction didn’t concern you at all but you decided to brush it off, and continued. “you see, i just got officially divorced. my ex husband and i tried our best to keep the marriage going for as long as we could but we were simply not meant to be”, you sighed. “this was the best for both of us”

“no way”, satoru whined. “no fucking way”

“umm… excuse me?”, you tilted your head in confusion.

“i don’t like this”, his face giving you a dejected grimace — brows knitted, lips pursed into a pout and eyes filled with a mix of panic and sorrow taking over the blue in them and turning it into a darker shade. “divorced? not meant to be? don’t even joke about this”, he almost cried out. the thought alone rubbed him the wrong way, tugged at his heartstrings so intensely that it forced him out of character right then and there, putting an end to your little role play escapade (rip sato kouya, you will be missed).

“satoru”, you caressed his hand, “baby. love of my life. this is just an act, please get it together”

“oh”, he gasped in utter shock after his focus fell on your hand and he noticed you were not wearing your ring. “you even took your ring off? why would you do that?”

great, this was getting worse now.

“because of the role play”, you spoke each word slowly, stressing on the last two very carefully.

“but i’m still wearing mine”, he protested, pointing at his ring, “see? you could’ve still acted fine with your ring on and without bringing up divorce and not meant to be’s”, he cried again, a hangdog look splattered on his face.

“i didn’t want to play the cheating wife, that’s why i took it o—“, you were cut off by another dramatic reaction.

“cheating? CHEATING? you considered this scenario?”, his voice was hitting desperate notes at this point. you couldn’t believe he had lost all reason over a play pretend.

you pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke, “okay, that’s enough. you’re being ridiculous right now. i’m going home”

he followed after you like a kicked puppy, whining all the way home. but you had to admit — part of you really loved the fact that he went completely out of his mind over something so silly, that he didn’t know what to do with himself just thinking about you possibly leaving him even in a made-up scenario, that you held so much power over him…

extra:

[later that night, in bed]

done reading for the night and ready to sleep, you placed your book on the nightstand and looked over at your husband sitting with his arms crossed next to you in bed.

“still not over it?”, you nestled your head on his chest.

“no. hurts like hell just thinking about it”, he mumbled.

“come on, stop pouting”, you pinched his cheek, “you can’t go to sleep with a grumpy face”

“yea?”, he glanced down at you, “sit on it then — it’s the only way to wipe that pout off of it”

[b-lossm]

•+*Workout Plan*+•

Caitvi! x reader [modern au!]

Synopsis: two strong women at the gym want you?? wait,, they're girlfriends??

The New Workout Plan [+18]

You where exhausted, but you had to perservere.

As you walked into the gym you where talking to your friend on the phone "you know ever since I started to follow that workout plan, I got all my shit together" you talk to your friend as you walk to the locker room. When you walk in you notice these two girls talking, a taller blue haired one, and a slightly shorter pink haired one with tattoos, What you don't notice is how they eye you up when you walk by them, mumbling something not being better then a man

By the time you come out, all changed and ready to go, you notice the blue one looking at you but then quickly looking away and talking to the other 'weird' you think, self deprecating thoughts entering your mind but that doesn't stop you from heading to the platies room to attend your little workout class.

You sit on your pilaties machine and see the blue haired one from earlier and give her a little wave, hoping that she isn't as mean as you think she is. When you wave she gives you a little confident smile and waves back, immedately taking her phone out and quickly texts somebody, you assume its the pink haired girl from earlier.

Annoingly, yout instructor cancles last minute "freak my life" you mumble under your breath as you start to get your stuff "I know this is so annoying" you hear the blue haired girl next to you say, handing you your lipgloss that fell out of your bag "Almost lost this" she chuckles awkwardly and messes with her bangs. "Oh! Thank you" you say, smiling as you introduce yourself "Oh my name is Caitlyn" she awkwardly sticks out her hand for a handshake and you smile while shaking it 'shes pretty...' you think while talking to her and walking out of the room

She then sees the pink haired girl from earlier "Oh! Vi! come meet my new friend" she giggles as the pink haired girl looks suprised, a subtle pink flushing over her cheeks "Hi, I'm Vi" she introduces, looking at Caitlyn "Nice too meet you Vi, it is short for violence" you giggle while looking at her bandaged arms and hands. She then gives a knowing look to Caitlyn "hmm well i guess" she replies, winking.

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

After that you guys just..clicked you guess, you found out they where in fact girlfriends so you pined for the both of them in secret while the three of your's friendship blossomed past gym buddies. You three where now watching a movie at their place, you and Vi where on the couch underneath one of Cait's massive blankets while she got the snacktray ready.

"Cait we're watching Waves!" you shout from the couch, not noticing how Vi was eyeing you up in your cute flowy nightgown. You where too busy being exited to introduce the two to this Masterpiece, "Come on! hurry up Cait!" you whine impatiently "Yeah Cupcake can't keep Dumpling here waiting right?" she chuckles while playfully pinching your side "Shut up" you giggle and playfully hit her while Cait comes back with the snack tray. Cait sighs "Ten minutes without me and you guys are already tearing up the place hm?" she takes a seat next to you instead of Vi, leaving you in the middle 'Weird' you think, sitting up as to not lean on one of the other's girlfriend.

--

About midway through the movie your hope to not lean into Cait, or Vi failed, your where laying on Cait while Vi laid between your legs and rested her head on your tummy "Why is he yelling at her? He said that its okay if they keep it....like I get that its a high school pregnancy but she is valid to be sad.." Vi complained, tracing shaped into your side "Its just the way he is, He's a very angry and stressed character" You say as Cait plays with your hair "You'll see" you start to massage her scalp with Vi's hair and she sighs relaxing and even leaning into your touch.

As the movie progresses, and you watch the perspective switch Cait and Vi eventually awkwardly switch places with each other. "This movie is so.. complex" Cait says while leaning into your stomach "Its beautiful.... It shows how someone's life is effected in a time of grief and how it effects them, but it also shows that they can love again while going through it" you sigh and lean into Vi's soft touches "S' a real emotional movie Dumpling, didn't know you liked such emotional stuff like this.." she yawns and looks at you and Cait laid out on top of her

--

By the time the movie is over you start to help them clean up, not knowing how to react after basically spending the whole two hours cuddling "Uhm.. I should head home" you say, already putting your shoes back on only stopping due to Vi gently grabbing your wrist, her hand sliding down to meet yours "no!--uh, stay.. with us.. Please?" she says awkwardly, Cait coming over too see that their plan has worked "Its really no problem y/n" she says with a soft but confident smile, holding Vi's shoulder "Oh! uhm.. alright" you say with a soft smile, as you let them lead you to their room "In your bed..?" you tilt your head slightly 'cute' the girls think "Mhm, is that a problem, Dumpling?" Cait says, 'shut up are they seriously asking me to sleep in their bed' you think as you bashfully set your bag down and you pull out your brush and follow Cait to their shared bathroom to brush your hair, Vi lays on their bed and admires the two of you, wishing and hoping to see this everyday.

When you eventually get in their bed you find yourself on the edge to give them space but then Cait speaks up "What are you doing..? come here" she pats the space in between them 'holy shit' you think as you awkwardly crawl over to the space "So.....how's the weather?" you say with an awkward giggle and then the two then take initiative and lean into you, awkwardly shuffling before finding a nice cuddling position.

"uhm.. goodnight Cait.. goodnight Vi" you yawn, leaning to hug Vi who is in front of you while Cait braids your hair so it doesn't get tangled up "Goodnight Dumpling" Vi kisses your wrist "Goodnight y/n" Cait kisses your head.

You didn't wanna ruin the moment and mention how your only friends with them right now and how you felt a little weird, but I guess that's a talk that can wait for tomorrow.

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

meowmeowmeowmeow umm spoilers for next part maybe its probably gonna be sesbian lex and I'm not gonna talk about how they all get together so !!

[anundyingfidelity]

DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

Billy Butcher taglist

@delaynew

@thesilmarillionblog

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions