#what is golden milk good for

[accesshealthcarephysicians]

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[maniacace]

i was already feeling sad about good omens and then i turned to look at my desk:

stop the madness please.

[luv-lock]

For SpiderGirl Y/N, how would they react to her being injured or dead. I wanna see them suffer. Only if you are ok with it. Love all your stuff, btw.

If you being injured:

The mission had been brutal, the enemy relentless, and the stakes higher than ever. But somehow, they made it through. Barely. And now, there you were—injured but alive, laying on the med bay table like the biggest diva Gotham had ever seen.

“Oh, God, I’m dying,” you groaned, clutching your side dramatically. Your hand was caked in blood, but it was far from life-threatening. Still, that didn’t stop you from milking it for all it was worth.

“You’re not dying, Y/N,” Dick said, crouching beside you with a worried expression. “The wound isn’t even that deep.”

You shot him a glare, your lips curling into a pout. “Easy for you to say, Golden Boy. You’re not the one bleeding out.”

Jason snorted from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “She’s got a scratch, and now she thinks she’s in a soap opera.”

“Shut up, Jason,” you snapped, though the bite was lessened by your theatrics. “I’m injured! I could have bled out on the battlefield. The least you could do is pretend to care.”

Jason rolled his eyes but walked over anyway, leaning down to inspect the wound. “You’re fine, princess,” he said with a smirk, ruffling your hair.

“I’m not fine!” you whined, slapping his hand away. “I need love and attention. Lots of it.”

Dick’s Turn

Dick was always the softie, and you knew exactly how to play him. You reached out with a trembling hand, your eyes wide and watery. “Nightwing,” you murmured weakly, “I don’t think I’ll make it. Hold me.”

He hesitated for a moment before sighing and sitting on the edge of the table. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

“There, there,” he said softly, stroking your hair. “You’re gonna be okay, Y/N.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning into him. “You smell nice,” you muttered, nuzzling into his neck.

Dick blushed furiously, but he didn’t pull away. Jason, on the other hand, gagged audibly.

“God, get a room,” Jason muttered, clearly annoyed.

Jason’s Turn

You turned your big, watery eyes on Jason next. “Jay… my favorite outlaw… my knight in shining armor… can you carry me? Please?”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Carry you? To where? The couch is like ten feet away.”

You pouted, batting your eyelashes. “But I’m injured! And it’s your fault for being so handsome that I got distracted during the fight.”

Jason stared at you for a long moment before groaning. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to listen to you whining all night.”

He scooped you up effortlessly, and you wasted no time wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re so strong,” you murmured, resting your head against his chest.

Jason’s ears turned red, but he kept his expression neutral. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

Tim’s Turn

When Tim walked in with a first aid kit, you immediately perked up. “Timmy! My hero!”

He sighed, kneeling beside the table to inspect your wound. “Let me patch you up.”

You let him work for about two minutes before you got bored. Then, with a sly smile, you reached out and pulled his head into your lap.

“Y/N, what are you—” Tim stammered, his face turning bright red.

“I need comfort,” you said innocently, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re such a good boy, Timmy.”

Tim froze, his brain short-circuiting as you hummed softly, clearly enjoying his embarrassment.

Damian’s Turn

Damian stormed into the room, clearly irritated. “Why are you whining like an infant?” he snapped, crossing his arms.

“Because I’m injured, you little gremlin,” you shot back. “Now come here and give me a hug.”

Damian scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

But when you held out your arms, looking pitiful and teary-eyed, he hesitated. Finally, with a huff, he walked over and awkwardly patted your head.

“There. Are you happy now?”

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug. “Aww, you do care, baby bird.”

Damian squawked indignantly, struggling to escape, but you held on tight. “Let me go, you lunatic!”

Bruce’s Turn

Bruce entered the med bay last, his expression as stern as ever. “What’s going on here?”

“She’s being dramatic,” Jason said, gesturing to you.

“She’s injured,” Dick corrected.

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, stop harassing them and let me see the wound.”

You pouted but let him approach. As he carefully inspected the cut, you leaned your head against his arm. “Daddy Bats, you’re so gentle,” you teased.

Bruce froze, giving you a pointed look. “Do you want me to help or not?”

You grinned. “I do. But a kiss on the forehead would speed up my recovery.”

Bruce groaned, clearly regretting every decision that led to this moment. “You’re impossible.”

By the end of the night, you were bandaged up, pampered, and thoroughly satisfied with the attention you’d received. And while the boys all pretended to be annoyed, they couldn’t hide the fact that they cared.

If you die:

The night was eerily silent, as though the city itself knew it was about to lose its spark. Gotham was cold and unforgiving, but it had always been alive because of you—chaotic, unrelenting, and fearless. And now? Now, you were gone.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Dick (Nightwing)

Dick was the first to find you. Blood pooled beneath your broken body, your mask torn to reveal your face—pale and eerily peaceful. For the first time, he saw you. He saw the girl who was tired, scared, and brave all at once.

“Y/N!” he screamed, sliding to his knees beside you. His hands shook as he cradled your head, desperately searching for a pulse. “No, no, no! Stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine!”

But you weren’t fine. You’d fought until the very end, trading jokes for grit, determination, and a ferocity none of them had truly appreciated before. And now? Dick was left holding your lifeless body, sobbing into your blood-soaked suit.

“This isn’t fair,” he whispered, his tears falling onto your face. “You were supposed to be invincible, dammit.”

Jason (Red Hood)

Jason was next, drawn by Dick’s anguished cries. The moment he saw you, his heart stopped. You, who somehow made him laugh even on his darkest days—you were gone.

He didn’t cry, not at first. He couldn’t. Instead, he fell silent, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Who did this?” he growled, his voice trembling with rage.

When no one answered, he turned to Dick, his eyes wild. “WHO DID THIS?!”

Jason’s fury was all-consuming, but beneath it was a grief so raw it threatened to break him. He knelt beside you, brushing the hair from your face with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his shaking hands.

“You weren’t supposed to go out like this,” he muttered. “You were supposed to annoy us forever, you hear me? Forever, Y/N.”

Tim (Red Robin)

Tim didn’t want to believe it. He stood frozen, his mind racing to find a way—any way—to fix this. You couldn’t be dead. You were the one who called him “good boy,” who smothered him with affection, who always seemed untouchable despite your reckless behavior.

“This… this isn’t real,” he stammered, his voice breaking. “She’s faking it. She’s… she’s messing with us.”

But you weren’t. And when Tim finally accepted the truth, he collapsed. He crawled to your side, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. “You can’t leave us,” he whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I need you. We all do.”

Damian (Robin)

Damian didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He simply stood there, staring at your body as though willing you to get up. You always did when he told you to. Always.

“Get up,” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp. “You’re not allowed to die.”

When you didn’t move, his composure cracked. “Y/N, I’m serious. Get up! Stop… stop playing around!”

And then, for the first time, Damian fell to his knees. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard they drew blood. “You’re a coward,” he spat through gritted teeth, his voice thick with emotion. “You left me. You promised you wouldn’t.”

Bruce (Batman)

Bruce arrived last, his face as stoic as ever—until he saw you. His shoulders sagged, and for a moment, he wasn’t Batman. He wasn’t the Dark Knight. He was just a man who had failed someone he loved.

He knelt beside you, his gloved hand brushing against your cheek. “You were just a kid,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “You deserved more time.”

Bruce had seen death before, but this? This was different. You weren’t just another casualty. You were family. And he had failed you.

“I should have stopped you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I should have protected you.”

Alfred’s Grief

Alfred was the one who had always known how to handle you, from the moment you spat in Bruce’s face as a child to the day you showed up in a spider suit, smugly proclaiming yourself Gotham’s best hero. You were incorrigible, maddening, and unapologetically yourself, and Alfred adored you for it.

When he heard the news, Alfred didn’t cry. Not at first. He simply closed his eyes, placed the tea tray he’d been preparing on the counter, and leaned against the sink. His hands trembled as he clutched the edge, the weight of your loss sinking into his bones.

“She was just a child,” he murmured to no one, his voice thick with grief. “My child.”

That night, Alfred cleaned your suit. He worked silently, meticulously wiping away the blood and patching up the tears as if you might walk through the door and demand it back at any moment. When he finished, he folded it neatly and placed it in the Batcave beside the others, his hands lingering on the fabric.

“She would have wanted it spotless,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

The Manor felt colder without you. He found himself pausing at the sound of laughter, only to realize it wasn’t yours. He missed the way you teased him, calling him “Alfie” and sneaking cookies from the kitchen. Most of all, he missed the way you brought life into a house filled with so much darkness.

The Funeral

The Manor was silent in the days following your death. No one spoke unless absolutely necessary, and even then, it was barely above a whisper. Your absence was a gaping wound none of them knew how to heal.

Jason stayed in his room, punching walls until his knuckles bled. Tim buried himself in work, desperate to distract himself. Damian trained until he collapsed, refusing to let anyone see him cry. And Dick couldn’t even look at your room without breaking down.

Bruce tried to hold them all together, but even he struggled. At your funeral, he gave a speech, his voice steady but his eyes filled with sorrow.

The Aftermath

They all dealt with your death in their own way, but one thing was constant—they would never stop missing you. Every quip, every smile, every moment of chaos you brought into their lives was etched into their memories forever.

Jason would often find himself staring at the night sky, muttering, “You’d probably call me a softie for this.”

Tim would keep a photo of you on his desk, a constant reminder of the person who always believed in him.

Damian would visit your grave, silently promising to make you proud.

And Dick? Dick would tell stories about you to anyone who’d listen, keeping your memory alive.

As for Bruce? He’d sit in the Batcave late at night, staring at your suit and wondering what he could have done differently.

You may have been gone, but you would never be forgotten. You were their light. And the hole you left in their lives would never be filled.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[rae-writes]

OnlyFantoms?? pt.II

om dateables/sides x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : nsfw, gn!reader with skirt wearing (raphael), lingerie wearing (diavolo), online sharing

synopsis : lets see what the new latest trending porn videos are

a/n: MWAHAHAHA IT'S FUCKING HERE

brothers ver.

The maroon fabric of your babydoll lingerie was rumpled, tearing not even a second later from how ironclad Diavolo’s grip was. One hand had the lace fisted, using it to yank you back on his cock, while the other was wrapped around your throat, veins highlighted and muscles flexing each time he effortlessly lifted your body and slammed it back down at the rough pace he was fucking you. Your legs were spread wide over his straining thighs, body just barely covered by the sheer material that adorned your sweaty body, hands white-knuckling his horns with your nails scratching along the golden ornaments . Each time skin met skin, it echoed in the room— adding to the sensual sight of the morning light reflecting off the golden floors, walls- the regal throne the two of you were seated in. His sounds were muffled from the way his head was buried in your neck, no doubt adding more marks to the already bruise-littered skin. Your own head was tilted back against his shoulder, his fingers squeezing visibly at your throat before two of them pushed past your parted mouth, making your high pitched moans turn choked. His rough pace got even more animalistic, feral growl escaping him as your body tensed, milking his cock as you came, pushing him past that edge too— and the video cuts.

Where royalty sits | 0:10 seconds | 112.k views | 109.k likes | 100.k comments 

TEN WHOLE SECONDS OF ABSOLUTE GOODNESS

Is this even legal to watch?? Cause if not, I’m happily packing my bags for jail

Typing this comment from my grave 

*eats phone*

Amazing day to be a Devildom citizen folks 

†

Hidden underneath the castle’s foyer stairs, the golden fractures of light shift as each of your bodies move. You were on your knees, thighs flexing, as you bounced up and down— riding Barbatos’ tail. The appendage forced itself deeper and deeper until the camera picked up on the arch of your back, the shimmer of your nails (painted in his colors) digging into his thighs, leaving behind wrinkles in the usually pristine black slacks. Gloved hands were tangled in your hair, gripping tighter the more his composure began to waver. The guided bobbing of your head went from leisure to almost desperate and then back again; after a particularly stressful day, he just couldn’t decide what he wanted. Only murmurs of praise left the royal steward, as opposed to your choked moans and whimpers and occasional gasps of his name when you came up for air before swallowing him down again. There was a brief moment in which he cupped the back of your head and shoved you all the way down- pausing- when footsteps ascended the stairs you were both underneath. Once it was quiet again, he pulled your head back with a caress of your hair and a soft apology, fucking you with his tail at a more rapid pace, insisting you needed to cum first. With you melting at his ministrations, he begins fucking your mouth, too, grunting almost inaudibly; the second your body wracked with your orgasm, he followed suit— and though only your backside view could be seen, the sounds of swallowing were crystal clear. With a low chuckle from Barbatos, and a breathy giggle from you, the screen goes black. 

Off duty | 0:30 seconds | 97.k views | 92.k likes | 88.k comments 

This is gonna be the next big fever dream, come lay your eyes on it while you can-

Mouth? Dropped. Eyes? Rolled. Drool? Leaking. Hotel? Corvo. 

B A R B A T O S ? !

This is the best day of my life

asdfghjkl

†

Scraping of wood against marble tile echoed faintly as the entirety of Mephisto’s desk moved inch by inch. The force he was pounding into you created small thudding noises, your clothes dulling the sound of skin slapping, followed by sharp grunts as he worked to keep the relentless pace. Lights of the newspaper club’s office highlighted your bodies, leaving nothing hidden as he bends you into an even deeper arch, face buried in the mahogany desk. Newspapers- published and uncompleted drafts- are crumpled underneath your hands; he couldn’t care less, though, not when you’re moaning and crying out his name like you are. It’s clear he tries to show some decorum, but the rare sight of his demon form screams how disheveled you’re making him— tails coiled around your waist, horns pressing into your shoulder, sharp nails digging jagged lines into the wood of his desk. An enchanted quill is frantically scribbling in the background, no doubt writing down what was happening into a page of the upcoming newspaper draft; depending on whether or not Mephisto remembers- or cares- he might just leave the article in. The thought actually has him whining, fucking into you a bit faster, because he’d love to see everyone’s reactions once they read the damn paper— knowing he had you right under everyone’s noses. A quick tug of your hair to pull you into a messy kiss that the camera can’t see and he’s spilling his cum into you- dragging you off the ledge with him- and pressing his body flush against yours. You stay trapped like that for a few seconds, quietly laughing and teasing him, before he huffs and pulls back as you both try to make yourself presentable again when the video ends. 

Extra, Extra | 3:25  minutes | 93.k views | 89.k likes | 84.k comments

Front page, baby. FRONT! PAGE!

Got his priorities down pat

What goes down in the news office doesn’t stay in the news office

Get that nOBLE DIck MC

Never thought I’d hear Mephisto whine— 

†

White linen curls around your arms, clenched between your fingers, pillowing your head, delicately shielding the parts you didn’t want too exposed— all while the light in Simeon’s room bathes you in a replicated golden hour. His head is buried deep between your thighs, messy hair brushing your skin at each movement. One of his hands is keeping your left thigh flat against the bed, squeezing at the fat of it, while the other is subtly shoved underneath his body as he fucks his fist. With the leg that isn’t pinned down, your calf is resting over his shoulder, keeping him impossibly close; the sounds coming from him are muffled, as he’s barely able to breathe properly, but they’re desperate and needy, echoed by the mindless ‘please’s and praise he’s babbling out. The sheets covering his own body from view only hide his hips down to his mid thigh, giving the perfect- defined- view of his arched back and the flexing muscles rippling underneath smooth skin as he thrusts into the pleasure. There are faint reddened lines trailing along his shoulders and barely visible hickies on his neck, showing that, clearly, this hadn’t been the beginning of the night. It can also be seen in the way his hips stutter with overstimulation, toes curling at the sensation, even if he can’t stop because he still craves the release. It’s timed with the pace he’s fucking you with his tongue, moans harmonizing with yours, getting louder and breathier and a little whinier before he’s practically crying out an ‘I’m cumming!’. Not even a second later, both of your thighs are snapping closed around his head, trembling, as you follow. The come down is soft and sweet, whispered words and gentle caresses, with a murmured suggestion for a bubble bath just as the video cuts. 

Worship hour | 2:30 minutes | 86.k views | 84.k likes | 78.k comments 

I feel the grace of the celestial realm 

PHEW 

GOD AND DAMN 

We’ve ascended guys— 

Where can I get an angel 

†

The scattered, organized, yet messy sight of school books, miscellaneous supplies, and the fact that you were in your uniform made it obvious this was one of RAD’s many closets. Raphael was sitting on top of an extra desk, legs spread rather wide as you sat on top of him; your skirt rode up around your hips, but his hands groped and squeezed your ass to shield it from view. He guided you at a quick, needy pace as you grinded against his clothed cock, sometimes jerking his hips up to meet the movements. The normally quiet and aloof Angel was panting and gasping, and if you listened closely, you could hear muffled whines every now and then when you moved at a certain angle. The sloppy sounds of wet kissing and tongues tangling seemed to echo in the small room, even despite his whisper of ‘have to be quiet’— in fact, he was more vocal than you, commanding you to go faster, asking you not to stop. Even the shadows passing under the door didn’t deter him from wanting you. The bell signaling class was about to begin made you pause without thinking, but he gave you no time to think: he grabbed you right up and twisted your bodies around until you were laying back on the desk, legs around his waist. With no room to barely breathe in between, he began fucking himself against you like an animal in heat, breathlessly apologizing and announcing he was gonna cum. With a few more rough thrusts, you can see his body shudder and melt over top of you— and the visible wet stain on the front of his pants as he gently helps you off the desk and fixes your clothes, suggesting a quick clean up spell so you can go to class, before the video ends.

[Can’t] resist temptation | 1:10 minutes | 88.k views | 82.k likes | 75.k comments 

PHEW PART FUCKING TWO

His veiny hands make me ajsaljdkd

Are all the exchange students always this hot??

I will take a shower of spears to see this in person 

Mc is my hero 

†

Whatever device was recording had to be enchanted, as the screen was divided perfectly to show the inside of the common room, where the seven brothers all lounged, and the hallway wall just outside, where Solomon had you hiked up against it. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, only a peek of his lips showing. The bottom half of your face that was in frame is covered by his hand, fingers digging into your jaw to keep you quiet. The only thing covering your body was his starry cloak; the fabric fell off your shoulder, showing off the many hickies and bite marks adorning your skin. Your body bounced upwards at every sharp thrust— he was unforgiving with his pace, frame flush against yours as he fucked you deep. The audio barely picked up on the ragged pants falling from his mouth, the debauched praises that he was damn near singing as he had his way with you, all while being ten feet away from the brothers. The muscles in his arm flexed as he held you up, fingers marking bruises into the skin he was gripping. You raked your hands through his sweat-soaked hair, tugging and pushing his head up until you had your mouth against his. A barely audible cry of his name reached the camera as your back arched, fingers pressing just as bruisingly into his back. He finally stuttered in his pace, mouth falling open; he came with his tongue tangled with yours, accidentally having let out a hiss when you moaned aloud. Lucifer, who had been glancing up occasionally, as if he thought he heard something, immediately stood just as all the others’ heads snapped up. With a desperate kiss, Solomon opened a portal and carried you right through, leaving the brothers to hastily round the corner and begin shouting, before the video cuts.

Claim staking | 4:45 minutes | 91.k views | 88.k likes | 84.k comments 

A good section of the comments is just hate from the brothers, I— 

That sly, sexy, smug little fucker

I wanna be between the two of them 

Sorcerer man hot 

You could physically feel the charge in the air through the phone when the brothers figured it out

[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789

(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — gepard, luocha, jiaoqiu

— warnings. — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, dub con, established relationship -> the both of you decide to take them before bed, petnames used: love, baby, sweetheart

⚝ — GEPARD

gepard sat beside you, his armor long since discarded and positioned on the floor, leaving him in a simple, white shirt that clung to his broad frame— yes, nothing happened yet, however, his cheeks were already flushed from the heat of the room, more or less because of you— or perhaps something else called excitement.

"you’re sure about this?" he looked at you, his entire attention drawn to your lips as his usual command softened by the intimacy of the moment and your body unbearably close to him.

you take his hand and nod, holding up the small bottle of aphrodisiacs you both had decided to take together, "only if you are," there wasn't necessarily a reason as to why you wanted to do this, if anything, the eagerness of what the thick liquid could bring forth was exhilarating.

with a soft sigh, you took the dose, first gepard and then you.

the effect was immediate, deeply engulfing your nervous system like a black hole swallowing you on instant, wrecking havoc— with heat, scorching hot sparks, spreading from your core outward, leaving you breathless.

you’re beginning to feel faint throbs settle under your skin and there's an unknown tingling that quells at the base of your spine— you begin to slightly panic, yet gepard took it upon himself to lead the both of you as he laid down next to you, his rough palms skimming up your hips, squeezing at the skin— strong, defined arms wrapped around you until your back was pressed tight against him.

his growing bulge nudges against your naked folds, but it only choses to make your want for your boyfriend burn hotter as he inserts himself slowly, you walls squeezing at the thick muscle when he gasps out, whimpering when he rests his heavy palm on your hip so he can feel the fever from your boiling skin.

this position was not only his favorite, but in this scenario it felt the absolute safest— you trusted gepard the most, knew he would put everything into consideration for it to feel good for you.

"i've never wanted anything so badly," you whine, breathing ragged as you begin to grind back at him. he slides his fingers towards your clit before spreading your liquids lewdly as everything around you turned dangerously intoxicating, dazed and like you lost absolute control of your cunt moulding and pushing him farther in.

gepard’s eyes darkened as he leaned into your shoulder and smirks, then grunts when your pussy milked him fiercely, forcing you to feel every little detail of his cock, heavy throbs, his thick load already splattering inside your thrumming spots, "i didn’t expect it to feel like this…"

he adds, "this ugh, good, fuck," the sensation was overwhelming, the world outside fading away as his hands roamed over your skin, each touch igniting something deeper— you feel dazed, yes, your movements lead by the purity of desire as his first actual, rough thrust of hips rewired the entirety of your brain, your lips parting to moan as your fingers twist into the pillows below you.

⚝ — LUOCHA

you felt electric, a quiet tension lingering between you as you messily made out with luocha, tongue's colliding as his golden eyes glimmer with intrigue, his usual mysterious demeanor giving a clear path-way to something more primal, more otherworldly.

it's been a couple of minutes after you've taken the aphrodisiac and fuck— it's surely working, you're sweating all over, hair a mess, your nipples erected and swollen— not only that but the way luocha dragged his cock out of you was slow, teasing, wet after he's given you a couple seconds to get used to the thickness of him, which only felt much bulgier due to the aphrodisiac doing its magic.

you cry out his name, your skin shaking and pussy so desperately in need to be touched more at the constant draw backs of his hips rocking you apart, like each thrust of his dripping dick lasted forever and ever, your cunt clasping around and making you melt into his flesh with every raw drag.

his hands were on your waist, your legs on his shoulders, and well, luocha wasn't cruel— no, but those positions felt the best, you were the tightest when he squeezed you together like a cute, little toy, finding you absolutely ravishing with your spasming cunt holding him in.

"my love, you look… breathtaking, like this," there's a carnal hint in his tone as he grunts, his voice rough and blurry, "so fucking tight, hah, i can barely move."

⚝ — JIAOQIU

"it seems the effect is… potent," jiaoqiu laughs into your skin, cheeks pinched up with champagne pink and his lips brushed against your neck with you slowly wrapping your palm around his length, stroking him, pressing him tight against your slick folds with every wet connection of his shaft.

the man jolts when you're teasing him with your entrance, he trembles when he curls over you deeper— his heavy weight automatically pressing his cock against your hole as he laps along your throat towards your jaw, "t-that feels nice, so much more intense," jiaoqiu pants, his fingers twitching in the flesh of your body.

his name fell from your lips like a plea, and his response was immediate— his grip tightening, it's just a little motion, yes, back and forth, back and forth, only inserting his tip and pulling out, not even anywhere near the good parts if it wasn't for the aphrodisiac,

it's nice, wet, and your pussy quivers as if he's already all the way in.

"i want you, baby, now," you babble against his lips, the repeated touch of his cock making goosebumps appear along the slopes of your body as you sigh out his name again, "you have me, sweetheart, you have me right there,"

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

[sanguineterrain]

Kurt wagner and tail stuff!!! I love that boy! I love how you write! I love the tail! Smashing them together we got a a little piece of heaven! So Kurt wagner with s/o and some tail action pretty please!!

(Like if you need some more then that: for example, the times before they were together Kurt’s tail always seemed to gravitate towards reader (I’m an advocate that Kurt’s tail is like a fricking mood ring) wrapping around them, touching them. The times when they were together! And the time reader wraps their hand or something around his tail or something)

Love your writing! You’re awesome and amazing! And I want to say in advance, thank you so so much for doing this ask! I will treasure it dearly! And if you don’t do the ask then thank you so so much to taking the time to read it! Have a lovely day!

ouuu this is a sweet request <3 tail boy! thanks nonnie :) hopefully I did him justice 🫶 changed the request a bit but kept the same idea about the tail. may write a part 2... we'll see!

kurt wagner (nightcrawler) x gn!reader. fluff, cooking, gambit and rogue trying to talk some sense into the reader.

note: I tried to capture kurt and gambit's accents. however, as always, I'm open to feedback on them. It's definitely not my intention to offend or miswrite anyone!

****

The smell of bubbling cheese wafts from your pot as you stir. It's been a while since you were able to cook for yourself and have a nice meal, always running out to do something or another for the good of the planet.

"Smells good," comes a familiar voice. A moment later, a tail curls around your wrist as you shake some paprika into the pot.

You look away from your stirring into golden, irisless eyes. Kurt grins at you.

"Mac 'n cheese," you say by way of greeting. "Want some?"

"Please und thank you."

Anytime you cook, you offer Kurt to share. You frequently have the thought that you spoil the hell out of him, but you can't help it.

He helps you out by putting away the milk and cheese. But he's never far; his tail remains on you. It slackens from your wrist, then explores up your arm and around your elbow.

It's nothing new, of course. The first thing you learned about Kurt Wagner is how physically affectionate he is.

"That tail seems to have a mind of its own, elfie," you say, smiling down at the pot.

"What do you mean?"

"It's always holding onto me." You turn off the burner.

"Ah." Kurt drops his tail. "My apologies. I can ease up, as you say."

You shake your head. "Don't. I don't mind. Never have."

So Kurt gives you one final tail squeeze. The fur on his arm tickles you as he brushes past. You watch him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" you ask, halfway through scooping two servings of the pasta.

"Not far," he says brightly. "Jean wanted me to bring spoons from the kitchen." He holds up three metal spoons with his tail.

"Spoons?"

He shrugs. "An experiment. Who am I to question a scientist's whim? I promise I will be fast."

He teleports away, and you have a mind to cover Kurt's bowl with a plate. You bring both bowls to the table. At last, a proper meal.

You don't mind eating alone, but that hardly ever happens with Kurt around. Even if he's just eaten, he'll nibble on whatever you've made. You don't know where he puts all that food—perhaps in another dimension—but he makes it a point to eat with you, regardless of whether you've cooked or not. Even if you're in the middle of the forest eating a tin of beans, Kurt will plant himself right next to you and keep you company.

He's a good friend. The best friend you've ever had, actually.

"Woo, smells good!"

Gambit comes in first, followed by Rogue, since the two are never seen apart anymore. Gambit, nosy that he is, makes a beeline to Kurt's covered bowl.

"And what's in here?" he asks, lifting the plate.

"That's Kurt's," you say. "You can get some from the pot."

"Mais, it's Kurt's, huh?" He glances at Rogue, who grins. "Hear that, chère? Not sure if I should take from the pot. Might take my head, too."

You squint as they share laughter. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, nothin'," Rogue says sweetly, taking the seat diagonal to you. Gambit sits next to her.

Your frown deepens. "I didn't say you couldn't have some, G, I just—"

Gambit shakes his head. "Don't go worryin' 'bout that. I'm just teasin'. I think it's cute how you feed the furball."

"Excuse me, I feed myself first," you say, and shovel a forkful of pasta into your mouth.

You hate not being in the know. It happens frequently, being that you're not a mutant. You're here on a personal invitation from Charles due to your "technology skills."

Really, you'd been brought here to fix Cerebro. And after that, you'd sort of just... stayed at the school. Charles had offered you a room, Kurt had won your friendship (or, perhaps, you'd won his), and you'd never left.

"Well, what do you mean, anyway? So what if I feed Kurt," you say, unable to stand not knowing.

"Just seems like where you are, Kurt's never far," Rogue says, watching you eat.

"Yeah, so? He's my friend."

"Oh, un ami. Is that what we're callin' it?" Gambit asks, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What else would you call it?"

They look at each other in that Siamese cats way. Often, you've had the thought that they can read each other's minds—no powers needed.

"You really don't know?" Rogue asks, voice softening.

"Know what?" you ask impatiently.

Gambit makes a quiet noise in his throat. "Y'all don't know. He's gone on you."

Your brows rise. "Kurt? Don't be silly, Remy."

"Oh, great. You're both in denial," Rogue says, rolling her eyes. "Haven't you noticed how touchy he is around ya? Always huggin' and clingin'."

"Kurt's like that with everybody," you say. "He's like that with Logan!"

"Mais, the tail, it never lies," Gambit says with all the wisdom of someone centuries older. "He don't go wrappin' that tail 'round anybody."

Rogue nods sagely. "True. And he's always puttin' that tail around you."

"But he's..." You put your fork down in frustration. "That's ridiculous. Kurt would've said—I mean, there would've been a sign. He would've told me. Kurt doesn't hide anything from me."

"This is new for him, honey," Rogue says. "He's never been in love for real. He's not gonna act rationally."

"Alors, look at it this way. La Raison parle, mais l'Amour chante. Hm? His body betray his words. It sings to you. Jus' like I sing to ma cherie."

He reaches to take Rogue's hand, eyes practically heart-shaped. Rogue lets him, smiling in that secret, shy way of hers whenever Gambit is sweet on her.

L'Amour...

"Kurt is not in love with me," you say. "End of story."

They both heave sighs.

"Just watch his tail," Rogue says. "Kurt can hide a lot, but he can't control how he—"

BAMF!

You flinch as Kurt teleports into the kitchen. He grins and waves, then bounces around the table to greet the others.

"I'm back!" he says. "I hope my mac did not get cold. Will you be eating with us?"

"No, that's okay," Rogue says, looking at you meaningfully behind Kurt's back. "Rain check. We've gotta go train."

Gambit winks at you. "See y'all."

They disappear quickly. Kurt turns to you, blissfully unaware of your newly formed nerves.

"I am sorry I was gone for so long," Kurt says, sitting down to his bowl. "Jean had some questions about my abilities. Apparently, she's trying to replicate them in a machine."

"That's okay," you say. "Rogue and G kept me company."

Kurt beams. "They are so good for that, yes?"

He shovels a mouthful of mac 'n cheese into his mouth and groans in appreciation. His tail instantly curls around your wrist.

"Amazing!" Kurt says. "Perhaps your special ability is your cooking, hm? I would believe it."

You laugh. "Danke, elfie."

"Bitte schön," he says, eyes lighting up at your German. He frequently informs everyone about how good your German is becoming, even though you hardly know ten phrases.

His tail begins to stroke your arm. You wonder if he's aware of it. If he knows how his tail betrays him.

But no, that's outrageous. And even if it was true, it's not like the feeling's mutual, right?

"Oh, and," Kurt says. "I got us tickets to that show you wanted to see. They're playing it at the theater downtown. We can go on Saturday, ja?"

"You... oh. Wow. I told you about that ages ago, Kurt. You remembered?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, tilting his head. Like it hadn't occurred to him to be anything less than thoughtful.

"No, I'm just—thank you. That's really nice of you."

Kurt beams. "I am excited to watch the green witch und her pink friend sing!"

He keeps eating, unaware of the way he's made your world tip on its axis. Because now you know.

You're in love with Kurt Wagner. And the feeling just might be mutual.

[camzeecorner]

𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚂₊˚ෆ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐏!𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

smut ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

⚝ matt sturniolo ↴

vacation relief - [‘all this heat got me feeling hot and bothered’ y/n groaned throwing her head back. ‘Oh yea? You want me to fix that mama?’ Matt smirked at her.]

Steamy shower sesh - [‘getting in the shower I’ll be back’ y/n yelled as she closed the bathroom door. Little did she know matt was close behind her.]

Pussy pounder - [‘gonna keep giving me shit? Take this fucking dick’ matt grunted into y/n’s ear.]

Golden love - [matt loves nothing more but to see his beautiful wife below him blowing him. Especially the way her perfect golden brown skin shines.]

Chocolate for the win - [‘kid there’s no way you prefer milk chocolate over vanilla’ Chris laughed at matt. ‘Darker the berry sweeter the juice’ matt winked]

⚝ chris sturniolo ↴

Best friends brother - [‘what do you think Nick would say if he knew -fuck, you were getting fucked so hard, so deep by his brother? Hm, you think he’d like that? ‘Nah I don’t think so babygirl.’]

Throat baby - [‘I am the throat goat queen bitches’ I laughed at my own joke. Chris smirked at your comment, only to find himself moments later watching in awe as he watched the way your throat was taking his cock so well.]

I fuck better than him - [chris your toxic ex found out you’d been hooking up with other guys. That left him no choice but to put you in your place and show you who will always be number one.]

Scream queen - [‘scream as loud as you want baby. Let the world hear how good I fuck you.’ Chris bent down whispering in your ear, which only causes your pussy to clinch around him more.]

Oatmeal pie - [‘gonna fill you up so good. Gonna make you look like a fuckin oatmeal pie’]

lets pray these links don’t get deleted!! 😭😭

tags 🏷️ - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous @kayeeaa @ribread03 @meatballlover10

[leviackermanstoes]

Please do a jayvik x reader where reader is their assistant and constantly glances at the both or them while they're working and either Viktor or jayce catches her in the act

YES OF COURSE! I think this idea is so good!

A/N: This is a little bit suggestive but very minor. Mostly just jayvik teasing reader.

---

You've been assisting Jayce and Viktor for many months now. You've learnt many things about them, like how jayce enjoys a cup of milk late at night and when viktor is tired he'll hum to himself. You've brought them Drinks and food and helped them out with their blueprints and stacks of paper. You were their doting and loyal assistant always happy to lend a hand.

But you thought you were subtle in your actions, how you always snuck glances at jayce when he was flexing his tanned muscles while hammering something, or how you always gazed perhaps too long on viktor's nimble fingers working on small cogs.

Late one night in the lab as you sorted through a stack of diagrams as per viktor's request, You snuck a small glance at the two males at the desk working and conversing. Jayce's arms sat flexed and heavy against the table, his white button-up shirt rolled up his arms. Beside him, viktor was giving much darker vibes, his lips are close together in a line and he's got a slight arch in his brow. His red tie is loose and his sweater vest is undone by one button.

Safe to say you were pretty entranced by them.

Both are illuminated by a dim Amber light coming from the evening sky outside, and it only adds to their beauty.

"Is there something on my face?" Jayce knocks you out of your trance, his face decorated with a boyish smirk.

You scoffed and looked away. "You're really funny talis," you said sarcastically, your eyes rolling back in the process.

"I think you're pretty funny too." Two large hands sat on your desk.

You looked up to see Jayce. His dark eyes are boring holes into you as his square jaw clenches slightly. You see and feel something in his gaze that makes you feel on fire.

"I think it's funny that you think we don't see how you look at us"

Jayce's face grins when he sees the beet red tint blanket your face, your jaw hangs low as the two of them begin to laugh.

"I didn't mean to make you both uncomfortable I jus-"

"You're scaring her, jayce. Relax, love, it's okay. " viktor held up his bony hand with a small smile. "Were not interrogating you, ignore him"

You took a deep breath and stood up to find a new pencil. You could feel the two scientists' eyes still on you. One like honey one like midnight, but both equally as enthralling.

"If I've done something wrong, please tell me"

"You haven't done anything wrong, love. Why didn't you mention you had a crush on us? Were not that scary, are we?" Jayce finishes his sentence with a deep chuckle.

"No, of course not, but your both-", you fixed your glasses. ",well your both quite attractive and a bit out of my league, so I just decided to stay quiet,"

Both jayce and viktor stepped closer to you, the two of them putting a hand on either shoulder for some kind of comfort. You first looked at viktors honey golden eyes. They were gentle and encircled by dark tint.

"You weren't very quiet with your eyes movements, dear. Infact I'm surprised you didn't notice either of us also looking at you, we've caught you staring many times"

"What?" Your mouth fell agape.

Jayce laughed. "Of course we noticed. You were staring when viktor was fixing his tie earlier last night before we left for the meeting"

Viktor interrupted. "And at that very same meeting, I caught you drooling over jayce when he was giving his speech"

By now, you were bright red and hiding behind your hands. You could've died right then and there of pure embarrassment. You couldn't believe that your secret endeavours of glancing upon your superiors had finally been noticed.

"Oh my gosh I had no idea!" You exclaimed.

Trying to help with your blushing but failing deeply, and really only making it worse, jayce put his hand in yours. It was rough and calloused and warm and felt like home. You were at home with them and you hoped that they would be understanding about this all.

"How would you like to upgrade from assistant to partner? It's a full-time position,"

Viktor grinned and ran his free hand through his hair, the other holding his cane.

"Are you... serious?" You looked at the both of them. Eyes darting back and forth.

They both nodded eagerly. "You've been deeply loyal and loving to us for many months now, and you've become more to us than just an assistant," jayce spoke as he held your hand tightly.

Quickly, almost embarrassingly so, you said yes. Viktor planted soft kisses to your cheek.

"Come with us dear"

[ariestrxsh]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, purity kink, sexualization of religious imagery, teasing, masturbation, voyeurism, mentions of sex toys, mostly just really suggestive, sub!virgin!matt, experienced!pervy!reader

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 author's note: don't read if you're religious. it's going to offend you a lot if you do, and i really don't want to offend anyone. this fic is a bit of a slow burn with a lot of lead up and sexual tension before they actually do anything. :) i anticipate this storyline to have several parts.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: a good little christian boy named matt moves in next door, and once you find out he's a virgin, you test his morals, determined to tease him until he caves.

the song was requested by @greer2301 💖 (i hope i don't disappoint you with the storyline, and i'm sorry it took me so long to get to this one!)

me & u part one

It was a Saturday afternoon in your suburban neighborhood, the summer sun beating down on your face directly overhead. You stood in your front yard in a solid white t-shirt and jean shorts with a hand to your forehead, shading your eyes from the brightness, and your other hand on your hip as you watched a giant uhaul pull into the house next door that had been up for sale for as long as you'd lived there. An old, orange truck followed right behind it.

Were you finally getting new neighbors?

You watched as a handsome brunette with tattoos who looked to be about your age got out of the rust-colored vehicle. He was in a white tank top and faded blue jeans, and he was really cute. An older man, who you presumed was probably his dad, emerged from the driver's side of the uhaul.

The younger boy's blue eyes caught yours as he opened up the back of the truck to get out some boxes, and he shot you a shy smile and a small wave. You had to have him.

Several hours later, as the late afternoon sun was beginning to set in the sky, and after the boy and his father had a chance to unpack some of their belongings, you headed to your kitchen to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies, so you'd have a reason to go over and talk to him. Maybe find out his name, maybe find out if he was single or not.

You got out milk, eggs, flour, and chocolate chips, and after mixing them all together, you portioned out perfect little dough blobs and stuck the pan into your oven, nearly burning yourself, and set a timer.

Once they were done baking, you beelined it for your new neighbor's house with a plate of fresh, homemade chocolate chips cookies and a glass of milk.

When you stepped onto the lawn, the blue-eyed boy was walking down the steps of his new porch, and he glanced up at you. "Hey. I'm your new neighbor. I saw you guys unpacking your stuff. I figured you could stand to take a break from unloading boxes and have some cookies," you said, offering him the plate.

"Hey, thanks," he said smiling, accepting the plate and the glass from you. He thought you were really pretty, and talking to you really brought out his shy side.

"What's your name?" You asked, studying all his attractive features up close in the golden hour lighting, his perfectly-shaped nose, his pretty teeth, and his luscious, pink lips. You loved the way the sun was hitting his gorgeous blue eyes.

"Matt," he responded timidly. You introduced yourself to himself as well. "You gonna invite me in?" You peeked over his shoulder and in through his doorway, walking past him and letting yourself in. "Uh, sure. There's not much in there yet," Matt replied, following you into his brand new house.

"Uh, sorry about the mess," Matt nervously apologized, gesturing towards the general disarray. "I get it. I've moved before," you responded understandingly. The walls were empty, and so was the rest of the room besides a kitchen table, some kitchen chairs, and several half-unpacked boxes, overflowing with dishes and kitchen appliances.

You admired the dark brown, hardwood flooring, the matching cabinets, and the gorgeous granite countertops. He placed the plate of cookies on the island in the center of the room and took a bite out of one. "Mmm. Still warm," he grinned at you, washing the sugary treat down with the milk you gave him.

"How old are you?" You asked him, your eyes drawn to his strong, veiny hands and his rings on his long, slender fingers. "Twenty-one," he told you. "Same," you responded while you watched him devour another one of your cookies. "These are really good," he complimented your baking, blushing and wiping a few crumbs from his mouth.

"Was that guy who was unloading stuff with you, your dad?" You asked him, and he nodded. "Yeah, he left to go get us some food for tonight," he mumbled in between bites.

"Naughty boy. Spoiling your dinner," you lowered your voice and smirked at him. You noticed his eyes subtly widen, and he stopped chewing for a second.

"You should show me your room," you seductively said, biting your lip. "Uh, sure. Again, there's not much in it," Matt shrugged, completely oblivious to your overt flirting.

You started up his stairs, admiring the sturdy banister, imagining how good it would feel to have him fuck you over it, and once you got to the top of the stairs, you turned around, noticing Matt behind you, his eyes glued to your ass.

You gave him a look that silently asked, like what you see? He pulled his gaze from your bottom to your eyes with a guilty look on his face like a puppy dog that had gone to the bathroom somewhere he shouldn't have.

"Which one's your room?" You asked him. "Third door on the left," he said, clearing his throat and trying to pretend he wasn't just checking you out. You led the way, even though you knew the layout even less than he did.

You turned the knob and pushed open his door. His bed was already set up with flannel sheets and throw pillows, and on the opposite wall, a desk with a laptop and a few books on it. As you peered out the window, you realized you had a direct view of his room from your room.

He had a connected bathroom, and as you wandered into there, you admired the sage green back splash of the shower through the transparent shower door. You imagined how steamy the two of you could make the glass.

Other than that, more scattered boxes decorated the area, some opened, some not.

"What are you gonna do with the place?" You wondered, pacing around his room. "I want to paint it," he said, scanning the room with his eyes. "What color?" You inquired, wandering back over towards the entrance to his room and subtly shutting and locking his door while he was distracted by deliberating your question.

"Still not sure. Wanted to go for something cooler, darker. Maybe a forest green or a stone blue. Something earthy," he mumbled, wondering if he had taken too long to answer your question. You could tell he was nervous and shy, and you found it extremely endearing.

"That sounds awesome. I'm gonna help you paint it," you stated, taking a step closer to him. "Sure, that'd be nice of you," he said agreeably. "What are you doing tomorrow? You should come see the badass treehouse I have in my backyard. It's really private up there. We can do anything you want," you chewed on your lip, looking him up and down.

"We can smoke some weed and just talk. Or smoke some weed and not talk," you said, standing on your tippy toes and whispering into his ear while you took your pointer finger and seductively caressed his chest. You noticed a small tent forming in his pants.

He liked how dominant and direct your demeanor was, but he was worried you may have misread his character. He had never smoked weed and had never had sex. Still, the way you spoke to him and touched him turned him on.

He grabbed a pillow off his bed and held it in front of his erection as if it were less obvious. "You'd better take care of that," you teased him, glancing down at his bulge. "Uh, I don't do that. My dad and I are going to church tomorrow morning," he swallowed anxiously, blushing at your observation.

"You don't what? You don't smoke, or you don't jerk off?" You asked, smirking at him. "Uh, I don't smoke," he nervously smiled. "Isn't it a sin to jerk off? You really are a naughty boy, aren't you?" You maliciously grinned at him. His breath caught in his throat, and he started to look at you in desperation, but he caught himself, immediately shifting his gaze around uncomfortably.

"You could come if you want," he offered, his eyes still darting around the room as if he were afraid to look at you. "I can cum if I want?" You teased him. "To church. You could come with us to church," he clarified, looking down and reaching behind his head with his tattooed arm to nervously rub the back of his neck. You loved making him nervous.

"Why? So you can watch me burst into flames?" You jumped at him, putting your fingers up behind your head, making devil horns while you playfully smiled at him, but he still jumped back, startled by your joke, and he nervously giggled at it once he realized you were probably kidding. A good little Christian boy.

"You know, you're cute enough that I'd consider going to church with you. But it's really hard to beat getting high in my treehouse and touching myself, so I think I'm gonna pass," you told him.

His jaw dropped and a needy expression overcame his face while he imagined you sitting on the floor of a treehouse, one hand holding a joint between your lips, and the other down the front of your unbuttoned denim shorts.

"Maybe I'll still be up there when church lets out," you tempted him. He couldn't believe how comfortable you were saying all that out loud. "You think I'm cute?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, still processing everything you'd just casually admitted in the last few seconds.

"Yeah, and you think I'm cute," you confidently stated, staring at the throw pillow in front of his pants. His cheeks turned a deep shape of red, and he wiped away a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Suddenly, you heard the low rumbling of an old truck and a car door shut. "Uh, I think my dad's home. I don't think we should be up here alone with my door shut and locked when he walks in," Matt said, wide-eyed.

He reached into his jeans to tuck his erection into his waistband. You watched in awe, hoping to get a peak, but he was too quick about it. He headed out of his room, and you trailed behind.

When his dad materialized through the front door, you and Matt were descending the stairs into the kitchen again. "Oh. Hi. You already made a friend, Matt?" His dad smiled at you, put the Cane's bag on the counter, and stuck out his hand for you to shake. His hands were rough and calloused. You daintily shook his hand, shot him an innocent smile, and introduced yourself.

"Yeah, she's our neighbor. She brought us over some cookies," Matt motioned towards the nearly empty plate. "I kinda ate most of them," he giggled. "How kind of you," the older man commented. "I'd offer you some food, but I only planned on feeding the two of us," he motioned towards his son.

"Oh, please. Don't worry. You guys moved in like six hours ago. I don't expect you to feed me," you responded. "I just wanted to pop in and introduce myself. Bring you something sweet," you innocently tilted your head at Matt's father.

"I'll give Matt my number in case you guys need any help unpacking or painting or anything," you grinned over at Matt. "Y-Yeah, sure," Matt stumbled over his words, fidgeting with his phone in his pocket, and handing it to you nervously.

You saved your contact in his phone with a peach emoji, a wet water emoji, and a heart beside your name, and when you handed it back to him, his eyes subtly widened, and he cleared his throat. "Thanks," he muttered. "I'll catch you around," you smiled and subtly winked at Matt, and then you saw yourself out to let the men enjoy their food and get a good night's rest after a long day of heavy lifting.

When you stepped out into the night, you got a closer look at their truck. It was a rust-colored Dodge Dakota from the 70's with a cross hanging in the rearview mirror, and there was a bible on the dashboard. You wondered just how strong Matt's morals were, and what you'd have to do to get them to bend - or even break - for you.

After Matt and his dad sat down at their table and ate together, Matt excused himself to go take a shower. It was the first time he'd had a bathroom connected to his room, and he appreciated the convenience. It took him a few minutes to figure out how the temperature and pressure dials worked, and once he did, he stood underneath the hot water, letting it hit his sore back and soothe the aching muscles in his neck.

He washed his hair, and ran his soapy hands all over the rest of his body. He tried to focus on cleaning himself, but he couldn't help that he was having dirty thoughts. He tried to push his impure fantasies about you to the back of his mind, but the more he tried to run away from them, the more they persisted.

He was pretty sure by now that you were flirting with him. He'd felt the sexual tension between the two of you while you guys stood in his locked bedroom together. He wished his dad hadn't come home when he did, because he wanted to know just how bold you were and how far you would have taken it.

He started getting hard again, and no matter how hard he fought the urge, his hand had a mind of its own. It was the one sin Matt was weakest to - lust. His fingers slithered down below his waist, and he started massaging his cock while his mind was flooded with you.

He imagined what it would have been like to see under your clothes, how your lips would have felt against his neck, and how your fingers would have felt wrapped around his dick like he had his now.

He pumped his hand back and forth over his length, caressing every vein and coaxing a few whimpers from his pretty mouth. Matt was saving himself for marriage, but he could still fantasize about you, right?

He pictured you on top of him with your breasts bouncing in his face. He imagined you straddling him, how wet and tight you'd feel enveloping his rod, and how pornographic your moans would sound. He fisted his cock urgently, his eyes rolling back and his jaw hanging open. The neediest sounds poured from Matt's lips as he replayed the way you sounded when you called him a naughty boy.

It didn't take much before ropes of cum were painting the shower floor, and Matt watched breathlessly as his hot, thick fluid mixed with the water and circled the drain. He immediately felt ashamed after, knowing God didn't make your body as beautiful as it was for Matt to fulfill his carnal desires with.

He figured you'd be disgusted with him if you ever knew. Little did he know, if you had any idea what he was doing behind his steamy shower door, you would have found it flattering.

He finished rinsing himself of his sin, and he grabbed a towel, one of the few things he had unpacked in his bathroom, wrapping it around his waist and stepping out of the shower.

It was right at this time that you were laying in your bed in the dark, trying to fall asleep when you rolled over and noticed Matt's bedroom light come on across the way. You caught a glimpse of Matt through your window in his room in just a towel, having just finished up in the shower.

You couldn't pull your eyes away from him. He looked so good with his hair all wet, and you admired his shirtless figure and the 'v' shaped lines that pointed down to his cock that you were dying to see.

You held your breath as he turned and dropped his towel. You couldn't see much, but you caught a glimpse of his bare ass for a few seconds before he slipped his pajama pants on, and you couldn't deny how cute it was.

Blissfully unaware that you could see him, he knelt down at his bedside and started to pray. You wondered if this was an every night occurrence, and for the most part it was, but Matt would spend an extra long time praying whenever he'd committed a lustful sin, which was more often than not. You peered at him from the comfort of your bedroom, wondering how good he'd look on his knees for you.

After about ten minutes of praying, Matt climbed to his feet, shut off his bedroom light, and crawled between his sheets to drift off to dreamland.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You were pulled from your deep sleep the next morning at about 8 a.m. by the sound of your phone vibrating next to you. At first, you ignored it, thinking you were getting a text, but when the buzzing against your night stand continued, you realized you had an incoming call.

You didn't recognize the number, but you still answered. "Hello?" You sleepily mumbled into the phone. "Uh, hi," you immediately recognized the shy voice that responded to you. "Last chance for you to come to church with me. I'm leaving in half an hour," Matt told you.

"You wake up at 8 a.m. every Sunday to go to church?" You asked in a groggy tone. "Actually, I've been up for about an hour," he told you. "Do you have any coffee at your place?" You asked him, rubbing your eyes. "I don't even have a coffee maker at my place," he laughed. "I mean, I do somewhere, but it's still packed up."

"I'll come with you to church if we can stop for coffee on the way," you smiled into the phone. "Uh, yeah. We can do that," Matt said, attempting to conceal his excitement about you agreeing to go to church with him.

"Do I have to wear a dress?" You wondered. "You don't have to, but I'd like to see you in one," Matt replied, biting his lip. "I'll be over in like fifteen minutes. In my sunday best," you answered before you hung up.

You put on an off-white, vintage smock dress that synched at your waist and had long, puffy sleeves. You brushed your teeth, combed through your hair, and ran downstairs.

You were greeted by a confused look from your mother. "Where are you going so early looking so nice?" She asked, peering up from the book she was reading. "To church," you casually said, resting your hand on the doorknob. "Church?" Your mom said confused. "Yeah, I made a new friend. I'll be home later!" You called out before shutting the door behind you.

You made your way over to the boy next door's house, and you knocked while you waited patiently on his porch. A few seconds later, Matt opened the door and his eyes danced across your outfit. "Wow," Matt whispered, taking in the sight of you in a dress. He thought you looked like a fairy.

You looked him up and down as well, admiring his black slacks and black button-down long sleeve. You admired his emerald green tie, wondering how it would feel to grab him by it.

He had a notebook in his hand, and you glanced at his long, slender fingers again that were wrapped around the cover of the book, dreaming about how they'd feel curled inside of you. "What's the notebook for?" You asked. "Oh, nothing. It's just my journal."

"Your diary?" You raised your eyebrows at him. "You write about me in it last night?" You bit your lip at him. "No," he looked away and blushed. "Well, what do I have to do to get you to write about me in there, hmm?" You cooed, reaching for Matt's tie and fiddling with it while you flirted with him.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked, ignoring your question and looking a bit annoyed at you. "Yeah, are we just waiting for your dad?" You asked, gaze still fixed on his black-painted nails, and your mind still fixed in the gutter.

"My dad's not feeling so good. I think the elevation change kind of got to him, so he's staying home today," Matt responded, nervous to be alone with you, but you stared at him hungrily. "Just me and you?" You lustfully asked. You couldn't wait to be alone with him. He sheepishly nodded. "Well, I'm ready if you're ready," you chewed on your lip.

The two of you left to get coffee. You got a frozen caramel coffee drink, and Matt just got a black coffee.

Since Matt was new to the area, he had you navigate the two of you to the first place of worship that came up when he searched for Christian churches, and the two of you showed up just in time for the 9 o'clock service to start.

Matt backed his truck in to a spot on the side of the building, and the two of you slipped into the church, relieved that no one greeted you or asked if it was your first time there. You guys wanted to avoid the spotlight and just take your seats somewhere near the back.

An energetic man walked out onto the stage and immediately drew in the attention of the crowd. It didn't take long before you realized it was one of those weird, eccentric churches where the pastor claimed to be not like the other pastors, but he really just seemed like he was trying to use God as a way to get into people's wallets.

The sermon given revolved around the first book of the Bible, the Garden of Eden, original sin, and the way Adam and Eve gave into temptation. The whole time, you just listened quietly, your eyes shifting back and forth between the man giving the sermon and Matt, who seemed to be in a trance.

The service lasted about an hour and a half, and after the closing prayer, you and Matt shuffled out of the church along with the rest of the crowd, and you made your way back to the truck. On the way back home, you sat next to Matt in the truck that he and his dad shared, facing the shy brunette boy while you mulled over the service given today.

"Do you think Adam and Eve fucked in the garden?" You asked him, breaking the silence and looking at him seductively. Matt pulled his eyes off the road and glanced over at you for a second. "What!?" He asked in an appalled voice.

"Like the apple and the snake. You think those are just code words for something else?" You wondered, chewing on your lip. "I don't think you should be talking about stories in the Bible like that," he widened his eyes at you as if you were about to be struck by lightning.

"I mean, that's what they're alluding to, though, right?" You suggested. "I-I don't know. I never thought that far into it," Matt responded, dumbfounded. "You think Adam and Eve liked getting punished by God?" You smirked at Matt.

His cheeks grew red, he swallowed hard, and he started wiping his sweaty palms off on his button-down. He looked so cute when he was all flustered. "You think Adam was a naughty boy and liked getting caught eating Eve's fruit?" You said, slowly parting your legs and flashing Matt a sneak peak of what was under the skirt of your dress.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the little damp spot on the front of your white panties. "You're all wet.." Matt whispered, wide-eyed, unable to pull his eyes from between your thighs. "I know. I can't help it when you're around," you muttered, parting your legs a little further and gently petting yourself over your underwear.

"Please don't make me sin," Matt peered up at you with his needy, blue eyes. "I can't make you do anything," you teased him, brushing your finger over the soaked spot on the cotton fabric. "If you sin, it's because you want to."

"You're making this so hard for me," he whined, his eyes dancing between the road and the juicy treasure between your thighs. "You're right, I'll stop. I don't want us to crash," you smirked at him, pulling your hand away from your special place and slamming your legs shut.

The desperation on his face turned to disappointment. He didn't want you to stop, but he was riddled with guilt and shame about the way he was thinking about you.

"Can we stop at a store on the way home? I need to pick something up," you asked him. "Sure. Just tell me where to go," Matt responded quietly, still trying to clean his mind of the image of you spreading open your legs and gently rubbing the wet spot on your panties.

You led Matt to a parking lot with a sex shop in the plaza, and it was then that he realized you were up to no good. "Why are we stopping here?" Matt inquired, his wide eyes shifting back and forth between you and the shop you told him to park in front of.

"Don't worry about it. I just need to go in for a minute. It won't take long," you said, unfastening your seatbelt. "Well, you shouldn't go in alone," Matt killed the engine and started eagerly unbuckling his seat belt as well. "Yeah? You gonna protect me from all the dildos?" You chuckled, knowing he couldn't protect you from anything if he tried.

Secretly, he just had never been inside an adult entertainment shop, and considering sex was almost all he thought about besides God, he was curious. But he'd never admit it out loud.

The two of you walked in through the front door, clearly both in church clothes, and the girl at the front counter greeted you by name. "Who's this handsome devil?" The cashier asked, motioning towards Matt, and he blushed.

"This is my new neighbor. His name is Matt. We just got back from church," you told her. "Hot. It's always the religious ones that are a little freaky," the girl said, eyeing Matt and biting her lip. "I-I'm not," Matt quickly said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, he's a virgin," you whispered loudly. "A-am not!" Matt defensively said, turning bright red. "We're not here for him. I was actually looking into getting a new vibrator. I like the ones I have already, but I just want something with a little extra kick, you know?" You told her.

"I have the perfect thing for you," she winked at you, and she started to lead you towards the back. As the three of you walked past the magazines and DVDs, Matt's eye caught the cover of a few, and he started growing hard in his black slacks. He prayed neither of you would notice, trying to adjust himself as subtly as possible.

"This is the womanizer. We just got a shipment of them in this morning," the woman held up a toy. "And this part right here uses airflow and pressure while it vibrates to simulate oral sex," she informed you, turning on the toy and holding it out for you to feel.

"Wow," you said, your eyes twinkling as you felt the sensation against the tip of you finger while you imagined how it would feel elsewhere. "You sold me. Which color should I get, Matt?" You asked, looking over at your cute neighbor who was still trying to fix the erection forming in his pants.

Your eyes flicked down at the way the fabric strained around it, you smiled, and then you looked back up at Matt's embarrassed expression. "Um. Pink, I guess," Matt quietly responded. "Yeah? Like the color of your lips?" You smirked at him, knowing your comment was going to fluster him.

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Whew. Is it kinda warm in here?" Matt asked, loosening his tie and turning an ever deeper shade of red. "I want a pink one," you said, turning back to the sex shop worker. She smirked at Matt and the tent growing in his pants before she wandered off to the back to go grab you a packaged one.

"You come here so often, they know you by name?" Matt quietly asked you. "What can I say? I like sex. Sex with myself, sex with another person, sex with more than one other person," you chuckled. "You've had sex? How many guys?" Matt asked, sounding a little jealous. "A lady doesn't fuck and tell," you whispered, winking at Matt before the woman reappeared with the vibrator you and Matt had just picked out.

"Are you sure you don't want a sex toy recommendation, pretty boy?" The cashier turned towards Matt. He glanced between the two of you like a deer in headlights. "Uh. N-no, thank you," Matt studdered, wiping sweat from his brow.

The three of you made it back to the front of the store, walking past BDSM gear and lingerie. "Okay, with your employee discount, it's gonna be $40 even," the girl smiled at you.

"Thanks, Carly. By the way, since I'm here, can I get my paycheck?" You asked, handing her the cash in your wallet. "Yeah, girl. Of course. I'll be right back," she told you after shoving your crinkled twenty dollar bills into the register.

"You work here?" Matt asked, looking at you wide-eyed. "Just part-time," you responded. "And your co-workers know," Matt gulped. "That you masturbate?" He whispered. "Yeah, I mean, if they're the ones thinking about it in their free time, that's their prerogative," you chuckled at Matt.

Carly reappeared from getting your paycheck and handed it off to you. "See you on Tuesday!" You waved goodbye and left the store with Matt trailing behind you.

"Why would you embarrass me like that and tell her I'm a virgin?" Matt asked you, starting up his truck. "Sorry! I didn't mean to embarrass you! I was just being honest. Plus, some girls find it hot," you smiled at him while you buckled your seatbelt.

"Really? Do you?" Matt inquired, putting the truck into reverse and backing out of the parking space. "What do you think?" You narrowed your gaze at him. "I-I don't know. Is that a rhetorical question?" He asked, still bright red from the interaction with the sex shop lady while he shifted into drive. "C'mon, Matthew. Let's go home," you turned your gaze back to the road in front of you guys.

"Okay, if you tell my dad we went into a sex shop, he's going to kill me," Matt looked over at you with a serious expression as he pulled into his driveway. "Why would I tell him that? Plus, you're not going home just yet. We're gonna go hang out in my treehouse. Remember?" You reminded Matt, slugging him in the arm.

"I-I don't wanna smoke weed," Matt admitted to you. "That's fine. You don't have to. I'm not gonna make you. But I am going to smoke weed, and you can hang out with me up there while I do, and we can just talk. Get to know each other better," you suggested, staring at Matt's lips and licking your own. "Okay," Matt hesitantly agreed.

He followed you through the wooden gate on the side of your house into your backyard where the two of you climbed the rope ladder up to your treehouse. Matt noted how much bigger the structure looked on the inside once you and he were in it.

You made your way over to a bag you had stuffed in a crevice in the wooden-pannel flooring, and Matt's nose wrinkled as a pungent smell filled the air when you opened it. Matt noted that it contained a lighter, rolling papers, and several nugs of a green substance.

"You keep your weed up here?" Matt asked you, his eyes widening. He'd never seen it in person, just in movies and in pictures where teachers in school were showing him what to stay away from. "The devil's lettuce," he remembered church leaders referring to it at sermons.

"Yeah, my mom's one of those people who's in denial about everything, so if I keep it out of her sight, she can more easily pretend I don't," you snickered. You sat down on the floor with your back up against the wall, and Matt was directly across from you, leaning up against the opposite wall.

You started to roll a joint, grinding the flower up with your fingers while you watched Matt's nervous expression. "So, why don't you smoke? Does it make you paranoid or something?" You asked him as you rolled. "I don't know. I've never tried it," Matt shrugged.

"Why not?" You questioned him, licking the joint sealed as you stared into his innocent, blue eyes. "It goes against God's word," he confidently told you. "Where does it say you can't smoke weed in the Bible?" You asked, lighting the end of the paper.

"The Bible says you shouldn't alter your state of mind," Matt replied, watching the smoke from your marijuana cigarette slowly drift out the window of your treehouse. "But you had coffee this morning? Caffeine is a drug and a consciousness-altering substance," you smirked at Matt, using his own logic against him.

"That's different," he said, rolling his eyes. "How? Is it because you're one of those cherry-pick Christians?" You taunted him, blowing out another plume of smoke. "You're gonna get me second-hand high," Matt snarked at you, unbuttoning the top button on his shirt and covering his nose and mouth with it.

"You didn't answer my question. Listen, I don't care if you pick and choose what things to listen to or not, but I was just curious as to how you know what you're gonna follow or not. And you're not gonna get high. I'd have to hold you down and blow it in your mouth," you sneered at him.

The idea of you pinning him down had Matt's palms sweating and his heart racing.

"You get turned on really easily, don't you?" You seductively spoke, taking another drag. The end of the joint crackled while you inhaled. Matt licked his lips and subtly nodded.

"Naughty boy," your lips curled into a malicious grin, knowing this would drive him crazy. Matt hugged his knees up towards his chest to hide the fact that he was getting another hard on.

"So, tell me, Matt," you took a final drag off the joint and put it out. "Do you think it's a sin to masturbate?" You inquired. "Well, yeah," Matt shifted around uncomfortably. "But you still do it," you smirked at him. He silently looked at you, neither confirming nor denying your accusation.

"What's the difference if someone else did it for you?" You stared at him lustfully, testing him. "I guess I'm not sure," Matt softly responded. "Well, you should think about that," you told him as you started opening the package that contained your new vibrator.

"W-what are you doing?" Matt asked nervously. "I'm just testing it out," you assured him. "In front of me?" Matt inquired, his eyes growing wider. "Relax. I'm not gonna get off with it in front of you. Unless you want me to," you smirked at him, turning on the vibrator and running it across your palm and your wrist.

"Here, feel it," you said, crawling over beside Matt and placing it on his fingertips. "Wow. That probably feels really good," Matt quietly responded, imagining how you'd sound and look with it between your legs. "I can't wait to use it tonight," you whispered in his ear, gently grazing his earlobe with your lip. Matt's stare flicked up to meet yours while you ran the toy across his palm.

"Are you gonna think about me?" You were shocked at the words that left Matt's mouth. It was the most forward he'd been with you, and it kind of turned you on. "Of course, I am. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since I met you," you quietly whispered, your gaze dancing between his perfectly blue eyes and his full, pink lips.

The tension in the air was palpable, and you felt a magnetic-like pull as the two of you leaned in to close the distance that lingered between the two of you. And just as your lips were about to touch, you heard your mom calling your name from inside the house.

You pulled back, shut off your buzzing toy, and sighed. Matt was looking at you with a desperate and needy expression. You leaned in and whispered in his ear again, "I've gotta go. Text me. And when you write about me in your diary tonight, make sure you call me mommy."

part two posted here 💖

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @munchingmini @butterbean-01 @coolasice01 @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @karttpet @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @slxtformatt @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1

[accesshealthcarephysicians]

What Is Golden Milk & Are There Any Health Benefits

Golden milk is a warm beverage made from milk (often plant-based like coconut or almond), turmeric, and other spices. It's claimed to offer anti-inflammatory and antioxidant health benefits.

[nor-ay]

Our first masquerade ball - (unrequited love story) 

Shadow Milk Cookie thinks that you are... Odd. Different, if you will. It’s in the way you roll your eyes at White Lily Cookie, in the harsh tone that slips out when you find someone annoying, or in the way that you always seem to be out of place. But don’t get him wrong; he certainly enjoys that. He thinks that you have great potential to be his right hand. He just needs to give you a little push on the right path. Sweet talks to you a little until he gets in your good graces and WHAM, controls you like a puppet. It's a win-win situation; he gets to have you on his team and breaks your friend's spirit. 

At least, that is what he initially thought, but that changes when you accept his gift and lie to your supposed friends. You lie to Pure Vanilla Cookie, and that has him clapping and laughing like a king entertained by the best jester there is in his kingdom. He almost can’t believe it! There is no need for him to break your perception of Pure Vanilla Cookie or the nature of Cookies. You already have resentment towards them. 

… 

You think that Shadow Milk Cookie is testing you. That has to be the only explanation for the gifts and fever dream. It’s not like it bothers you, but when you look at Pure Vanilla Cookie, you feel guilt growing and wrapping itself around you. He’s not deserving of this whole situation… Shaking your head, you try to push all these thoughts away. You’re not evil—

Apple Faerie Cookie’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Cookies! Let’s go to the top of the Spire!” 

“I sincerely hope we’ll find what we’re looking for!” You find Wizard Cookie’s reply relatable. You’re tired too. And desperately wanting to get out.

“I bet you will! Now, shall we?” 

“Um…you guys can go ahead, I have to go, I mean, I forgot something.” You hate how your voice sounds so suspicious! Cringing at yourself, you try to smile. 

GingerBrave is looking at you strangely, and Pure Vanilla Cookie is unusually silent. Strawberry Cookie is the one to break the silence. “Really…? Are you sure?” 

“Yeah! I mean, what's wrong? I’m sure you all can live without me for a bit, right?” You try to laugh, but it sounds forced. When did you become so awkward around…your friends? 

Wizard Cookie frowns “Well, the way you—“ 

“All right! [Name] Cookie, I trust you; I’m sure you’re going to do something helpful! Just be careful.” GingerBrave without realizing it, saves you from being interrogated. And again, your lungs fill with guilt. You find it harder to breathe and the smile on your face falters. You’re not evil. 

“Can you not—ugh, never mind.” Wizard Cookie gives up. And you internally thank the witches for it. 

“Right. Thank you. And- please…be careful on your journey.” Ah, this is what you’re doing now. You don’t feel part of them. You never did. Not even with the five ancient heroes. You were always more of a confidant. Hearing Pure Vanilla’s worries, comforting White Lily Cookie after discovering her other half. Playing along with Golden Cheese Cookie, helping out Dark Cacao Cookie and Holyberry Cookie with their tasks. You never felt like you belonged. And so you grew resentful. 

You turn around and go in the opposite direction. Silence is the only thing you hear while going down the stairs, and you have to blink quickly to stop the tears from falling. You were not lying before when you said that you forgot something. When you arrive at the same spot where you woke up hours ago, the doll is still there. Sitting down, you pick up the mini-you and hug it tightly. Closing your eyes, you confess to no one. “I don’t know what to do… I miss when things used to be easy… I don’t want to hurt them. I’m just, so so so sick and tired of the same things over and over again…it’s like I’m trapped in a loop.” 

…

You don’t know how long it’s been since you parted ways with GingerBrave and company. But, unexpectedly, the doll in your arms starts moving on its own. So you let it go, waiting for its next move. 

Clap

A Colombina mask appears in front of you. It’s beautiful. You smile, thinking it’s a bit ironic. Perhaps even mocking that he gives you a mask. Is this his way of telling you that you’re two-faced? 

Nevertheless, you still put on the mask and follow the doll through some large hallways. Arriving at a luxurious ballroom. “How did we not see this?” You ask, completely in awe. The tiles on the floor are so white that you can see yourself reflected on them.

“Well… I had it hidden, of course; did ya forget that you’re in my domain, mhm?” It takes you a second for your brain to register who answered. 

“S-Shadow Milk Cookie!?” 

“Awe…are you really that surprised to see me? Well? Go ahead!” You notice how he’s also wearing a mask similar to yours. 

“Uh…ah-“ You don’t know what to say. Sweat begins to collect on your forehead. You begin to panic. You have to say something!! But, what can you say that he doesn’t know already?

Before you can think of anything to say, you hear Shadow Milk Cookie groan, as if annoyed. “Ughh right, I’m going too fast, this is a masquerade ball, you’re not supposed to know who I am.” 

“O-kay, let's start over!” You watch dumbfounded as he claps twice and the ballroom fills with different puppets who are dancing and talking to each other. 

You watch all this and can’t help but laugh, and, oh, it feels so freeing to be able to be as loud as you want. Everything is so out of the blue that you just can’t help it. Shadow Milk Cookie seems to be interested in what is making you laugh so much. “I’m sorry…this just doesn’t make any sense, and I love it.” 

He smiles, seeming pleased. “Now, THIS is the type of audience that I like! Alrighty! Let's get to it.” He closes the distance and takes your hand. He runs cold, you shiver at the contact.

You feel relaxed, and that should make you worry, but, as Shadow Milk Cookie gives you a twirl and spins you around the ballroom, you can’t. The giggles don’t seem to stop coming out and your eyes are all teary from all the laughter. Your hands are tightly grasping his shoulders and it doesn’t surprise you how agile he’s on his feet. It’s so easy to let him guide you. 

“Awww look at you! You’re enjoying yourself so so so much! Aren’t you going to ask me where are your frieeends?” 

“Well…,” you start—

“Oh, wait, WAIT, don’t tell me! You finally realize that it’s not with them that you belong? Especially that dreadfully, painfully, unbearably Pure Vanilla Cookie?” You can’t fully read the tone in his voice; it seems playful, but the hate he has for them inevitably seeps in. 

“That’s right,” Your smile wavers as you revert to your natural state of being. “It took me a long time, but… I’ve finally understood who I am and what I want.” A sudden bravery fills your heart as you finally ask him- “Please, take me with you!” You surprise yourself by the loudness of your voice.

Have you always been that desperate to escape your life?

“…” His eyes blink several times and it feels like the whole ballroom has grown silent. You start to feel self-conscious and—

His laugh fills the whole ballroom, and in just a second, Shadow Milk Cookie dips your body back dramatically. You grip onto him like a lifesaver and- and you’re out of breath. “Perfect,” you hear him say. His voice is lower than you’ve ever heard. “Alright, since you asked so nicely…you’re with me now!” 

“Huh, so…”

“Oops, looks like I have to go, feel free to explore my humble domain, hehe!” 

He’s gone in the blink of an eye. All the puppets that were dancing vanished too, all left behind in the ballroom was the mini-you doll and your racing heart. 

“…Did he lose track of time?”

Okay!! I actually struggled a bit with the dialogue. In my mind, there were so many different things about what Shadow Milk would say in certain situations! But, I’m happy about how it turned out. I hope you enjoyed it too!! AND, this is important, the story is going to be on hold until we get episode 8 of Beast-Yeast. It’s not like I can’t improvise, but if I continue, and then they release ep 8, I know that I’ll end up rewriting everything, and I don’t want to do that, to be honest. 

Besides that, I’m already thinking of writing Shadow Milk x reader with a trope that I really enjoy!! Orr some headcanons (maybe nsfw, still unsure about that).

@notboomm @fyodors-belovedxoxo

[thatdruidgal]

Favorite Recipes

Witchcraft Recipe Book Masterpost

Here are all of my favorite witchy recipes compiled from all corners of Tumblr 🤗

Drinks

magick hot cocoa — @leodrune

heal your heart tea — @dumbass-mothcraft

energy boost tea — @mercurys-daughter

energizing tea — @witchy-studies

headache relief — @themanicnami

cleansing potion — @themanicnami

calm and happy tea — @the-starlight-witches

quincy's golden milk tea — @this-possum-cries

new years manifestation tea blend — @infernalwitxhcraft

dandelion dreams tea — @little-witchys-garden

healing apple cider [upg] — @thatdruidgal

samhain cider — @starsofdarknebula

samhain tea — @starsofdarknebula

good night lavender tea — @thecactuswitch

yule spell in a mug — @fairy-magick

Foods

lughnasadh herb bread -- outside source

litha orange honey cake -- @gardenfoxywitch

rosemary-honey shortbread -- outside source

enchanting flower and herb spread -- outside source

lavender earl grey cookies -- @coinandcandle

cozy butternut squash winter soup -- @kitchenwitchtingss

homemade butter thins crackers -- outside source

fire cider chutney soup [upg] -- @thatdruidgal

Remedies

fire cider -- outside source

four thieves vinegar -- outside source

Infusions

herb-infused oil -- outside source

rose oil -- outside source

pine needle spray -- outside source

cleansing spray -- @tears-of-amber

florida water cologne -- outside source

Misc

incense -- @magnoliawitchcraft

autumn incense -- outside source

cleansing salt — @theaetherwitch

Original post here

Like what you see? Consider supporting me! ko-fi.com/thatdruidgal

[atheneum-of-you]

Libations

As a Hellenic polytheist, one of our most important duties to our gods would be to give libations. Libations are liquid offerings to our gods, not only in recognition of them and their importance but as an invitation into our lives for them.

When it comes to giving libations, it can be difficult for those of us practicing and worshipping in secret. So in this post I'll go over typical libations and how they're given, and then some methods I believe would be helpful for those that can't give openly! Please keep in mind that the suggested methods (for those practicing in secret) come from someone who is still navigating and learning her own religion. As always, do your own research where needed and do methods that make you most comfortable in your practices.

Typical Libations

Wine (typically red)

Symbolic of the divine ether, and Zeus's influence on the soul. Additionally, dark red wine represents the blood of Dionysus/Zagreus. We drink his blood as reflectance for his sacrifice by the titans and the eating of his flesh. It represents his metamorphosis, and in turn, our own cycle of birth.

Milk

Representative of Hera and Ira, whose breast milk formed the galaxies and cosmos. Milk also represents the earth.

Honey

Honey is golden which is incredibly symbolic of the gods, particularly their ichor (the blood of the gods). Honey is also a powerful preservative representing the immortality of the gods.

Fine oil (typically olive)

Oil historically symbolizes life, prosperity, and the divine spirit.

Milk and honey together are also a considerable libations but is particularly good for death related gods and the honoring of the dead. Milk and honey libations for them should NOT be consumed.

Giving Libations

To give libations, you would first pick up the offering bowl full of whatever you are giving with your right hand, then hold it with both and recite a dedication. The dedication itself is up to you but the example I saw is as follows:

"We dedicate this libation to khrismôdós Apóllôn and aithǽrios Diónysos and to all the happy, deathless Gods!"

Libations can be made to a singular god or multiple at once. Just ensure you have enough for them equally. Dedications can also be to a singular god or you can name the ones you are dedicating to.

Once you've made your dedication, you'll transfer the bowl to your left hand and pour your offering on the ground or into whatever reservoir you have dedicated to it on your altar. This is your libation, and the offering now belongs to them. Once you've made your libations, you may sip from the remaining contents of the bowl as communion. Before doing so, you may recite a prayer. Here is an example:

"We drink the blood of Diónysos! May the Aithír of Zefs intoxicate our souls and transform us!"

Please be aware that you should NOT drink libations to the dead or to death gods.

When sipping from the remainder of your libations, do NOT sip from the part where you poured. You should drink from the opposite end of the bowl.

Libations in Secret

When you're practicing in secret, this method of libations can be incredibly difficult. So with that, here are a few ways that I think could be helpful!

Can't access or drink wine/milk/honey? Substitute them for water or better yet, flavored juices!

Pomegranate juice can make a good libation for Underworld gods and goddesses, apple juice would be good for Zeus, etc. Research your deity's associations and try working with them. Water is also life-giving and integral to life.

Can't pour your libations outside or in a dedicated offering bowl? Use cups!

Pour your libations directly from the bottle to a cup and sit it on a shelf or desk or wherever you've dedicated to your god. You can recite your prayers and dedications in your head as well.

Worried about wasting drinks? Offer a smaller amount!

Typically what you give should be more than you keep, but your gods understand your struggles and would be understanding of your intentions. Offer a small amount of your drink, honey, etc and inform them of your reasonings and intentions. Your gods love you, they'll be happy with your efforts regardless.

Can't do your libations during the day? Do them at night!

Give your libations while everyone is asleep. You can even hide it under your bed or behind something to keep it for the time you want. (Please be careful of doing this with honey and be mindful of possible insects, pets, pests, spills, etc)

A minor? Do your libations at school!

You can do your libations while at school by making them during a PE class, during lunch, or any period of time where you can take a moment to do so! (I'm not condoning using your bathroom breaks to sneak off and do them, I'm just saying you definitely could do that)

Regardless of how you do your libations and with what, your practice is your own as is your relationship with your god(s). Do what feels right for you ♡

[shotmrmiller]

cbf!johnny def the, if you still single by 32 we'll get married but then literally interferes with every date you think about having, tells them to block your number or end up on the back of a milk carton, and spends most of his time back home with you.

when away, he calls every morning and night, if able. video chats too. your parents couldn't care less because he's got a golden cross dangling around his neck and says grace before every meal.

good lad, he'd be a welcome addition to the family.

the worst because then he'd turn his big ol puppy eyes to you like, the captain's havin' a bairn and how it'd be nice to have my own little family to come home to, that he isn't getting any younger and you know he means nothing by it but it stings because are you not good enough?

you don't really want any kids, they're not a part of your future but the thought of your best friend, the one you've known since you were a kindergartener getting a wife or husband, and leaving you behind has envy, slow and cruel, crawling up your spine and settling in the back of your skull.

there's never been anything truly inappropriate between the both of you (you don't know that the way he holds you in his lap when in public or wrapping a thick arm around your soft waist is anything but friendly) so you find yourself at a loss for words.

until he keeps sending ultrasounds of the fetus, one after the other and how tender his voice sounds as he gushes over it.

i'd give you a baby, if you want. nothing better than creating a family with my best friend right? only for him to quickly tell you that children out of wedlock is completely out of question.

well, the cute one with the pretty lips and UK cap already calls you johnny's missus so what's the harm in that?

when johnny passes the phone over to the guys, you ask price how his wife is.

what wife?

(i need johnny to give him a swift jab to the ribs, where price is like HURGK i mean she's great. doing wonderful.)

[adelheidvonschicksal]

♡♡♡♡♡ Say It Again ♡♡♡♡♡

Summary: If Megumi could make a list of the things he hates in this world, his name would probably be at the very top. When it comes from you though, well, it's not so bad.

Tags: Megumi x F!Reader, smut, vanilla, Megumi is a sap lowkey

Megumi hates a lot of things. He isn’t a fan of sweets unless they’re accompanied by the spice of ginger to wash away the overly sugary, sticky residue on his tongue. He isn’t fond of crowds either, choosing to keep his circle small and even then he prefers to observe rather than be in the thick of his friends’ misadventures. Constantly, perhaps too much, he finds himself rolling his eyes at the strange trends they talk him into. That’s only to name a few. There’s a never-ending list of big and small grievances about the world he could make if given the time and energy to think; and if you ask him what’s at the top of that list, it’d probably be his name.

“Megumi” sounds so explicitly feminine rolling off the tongue--a name for every other female television character nowadays. It can be an irritation at times when Gojo says it in that singsong voice that makes his shoulders rear up and his brain prep for whatever annoyance will follow. He hated the way his teachers would sometimes call for him in that obnoxious, scolding tone whenever he’d crack his fist over the face of whatever asshole decided to piss him off. Mostly, Megumi hates that it makes him think about the man who gave it to him with so little regard for his gender.

He prefers “Fushiguro” even if he still shares that name with a father whose face is nothing but a bleary oil-curdled puddle on the crumbling edge of his memory. It’s the name he shares with Tsumiki and that separates him from the Zen’in clan. It’s the name he was allowed to keep thanks to Gojo’s intervention. When he thinks about it like that then “Fushiguro” isn’t so bad.

“Me-Megumi.”

Ah.

There are a few times where he likes his first name, he supposes.

None more so than when it’s fracturing off your kiss-swollen lips, groaning from so deep in your chest that it curls like a purr in the stifling air surrounding him. It always manages to sound good from you, enough that his concentration breaks when he hears it.

He remembers the first time you said it back in your school years.

The simple “Good morning, Megumi” rang in his ears and imprinted in his brain as the gears in his mind slowed and the beating of his heart skipped. He learned the difference between the chipper call of your voice after a good night’s sleep and the drowsy drawl, almost like a whisper as you rubbed your shadowed eyes after a rough night.

It was like a dose of milk and honey each time, making him grumble less and less and want it more and more. He savored it. Somehow, he did, between his anti-socialness and ever-growing list of things he hates with his name at the very top. He should’ve bottled it up and saved it for those long missions where he didn’t get to see you in what felt like forever. Instead, he stubbornly suppressed his feelings against his better judgment, trying and failing to ignore them.

It's fine though because it worked out; somehow, it did.

Now when you say it, it causes his hips to stutter between your legs as he grinds you into the mattress. You don’t seem to mind though because his cock rocks against you in just the right way that the flimsy piece of underwear separating the two of you cease to matter.

He gets to hear it singing from your mouth as he slips his fingers from your chest and shoves them past the band of your underwear. And he can tell you need him just from how easy it is to collect your cum and glide his fingers between your lips in the same familiar tempo that leaves your quivering and whining into his shoulder—your warm voice sinking into him—caught between begging him to stop and asking for more with those sweet pleas of “Megumi, not there” to “please please please, Megumi”.

Taking advantage of the golden opportunity, he slides his tongue into your mouth, savoring the origin of those cute, honeyed whimpers. It’s an acquired taste because he hates sweets but you’re undeniably an exception to the rule because you taste as saccharine to hungry tastebuds as you sounded.

And he’s become greedy for it, especially after those same long missions that used to plague him and on those rarer quiet nights with you. He would never give it up if he had the choice; never give anyone else the opportunity to enjoy it, let alone try it.

“Megumi, do you want to go out with me—like on a date?” you said it softly and nervously with a finger bitten between your teeth, eyes down, afraid to look him in the eye, as if he could possibly reject you.

You moan into his mouth as his fingers curve inside of you, eagerly racing towards their destination; your face contorts and moans pour out when he reaches it, but it isn’t what he wants. It isn’t good enough even as you arch into his hand and throw your head back.

"I really like you, Megumi."

He wanted it. He wanted to hear you say it like you did back then, with all the affection the world could hold. He can’t be satisfied unless you do. He’s willing to work for it; he always does, craving to make you feel good, to make it worth choosing him.

In one fluid motion, the world melts away when he snags aside your clothes and enters you in a single smooth thrust.

“Megumi!”

That was it.

He presses his hand down on your stomach, adding pressure to the rush you were feeling as he plunges and holds his cock deep inside you. You were already close before he even started, have been close long before he pulls out to the tip and thrusts back in.

Your hand tightens on his shoulder and nails imprint into his skin. Your mouth cracks open in a broken cry, which ends with trembling pants that hiccup again and again as he slowly pulls back and thrusts back into you, trying to ring out those few sweet seconds where your mind is far gone and his every demand willing to be filled.

Megumi huffs against your neck. He’s almost there, and the familiar edging of his climax builds in him as he buries his head into your neck. Closing his eyes, he chases his climax, the one threatening to burst with each whimper of his name.

“Say it again," he grunts out.

And you do, so prettily, so softly, and all for him. It sends him tumbling over that edge with no effort, leaving you both breathless, sweating, and covered with the smell of it all as you gaze at each other. Your hand climbs up the back of his neck and breaches the lining of his hair. You smile, tired yet blissful.

“Megumi,” you say, and his heart skips a beat. An experience he has all too regularly with you – only you. “I love you.”

It takes a while to soak the words in; he needs time to carefully store the feeling, the way the sound escapes like syrup from your mouth, and the sugary residue of those feelings sticks to every crevice of his soul like candy on his tongue. When he finally does, Megumi thinks once again that maybe his name isn’t so bad.

“I love you too.”