#Statement of Purpose tips

[edwisefoundation]

Crafting a Persuasive Statement of Purpose (SoP) for Australia: Key Steps and Tips

Crafting a persuasive Statement of Purpose (SoP) is essential for your Australia study visa application. This guide provides a step-by-step process to write an effective SoP that highlights your qualifications, interests, and fit for the program. It emphasizes the importance of thorough research, clear structure, and customization for each university. By following these guidelines, you can create a compelling SoP that strengthens your application.

For more detailed insights on crafting a perfect SoP, visit the SoP for Australia page.

[emeraldxsplash]

Alright, I've been meaning to post about Noriaki's gender & orientation for a while. Fair warning that this might get a little uncomfortable at times, so if you're sensitive to negativity around the topic, it might be worth skipping this one, although it's not going to be too bad.

He has understood the fact that he's nonbinary for a long time, and is at peace with it. Because of that, he's had a lot of time to work on tweaking his presentation and come up with something that satisfies him both from a personal standpoint and as a public display. As he gets older, the latter aspect will become less important to him, and he'll be a lot more comfortable expressing himself through his presentation from the get go.

He'll accept more gender neutral pronouns, but they're not an important aspect of his identity to him, so it's very unlikely he'd request it. What's more important to him is that he knows who he is and feels comfortable with himself.

His orientation is something he's spent far less time exploring, and as with so much else about himself, he isn't inclined to share that journey with others. That makes it trickier to come to an understanding about how he feels about these things, and necessarily, he's slow to come into acceptance of it as well.

To begin with, he finds romantic attachment simply unattainable and unfathomable. His standards are high enough to be nearly insurmountable, starting and ending with the potential partner being a Stand user. Even when he relaxes his requirements for acquaintances and even friends, this will not ever change. Furthermore... finding someone like that with real compatibility with him? He's under no illusion that he's easy to love, even to friends that he trusts. He has a volatile streak that can put off just about anyone, and he's not even remotely interested in changing his inner self just for the sake of others' comfort. That's what the public mask is for.

He hasn't given it very much thought, but he very likely does not have a lot of interest in women, if any. Coming into that realization is not easy for him, due to the stigma. He's also more hesitant to make any declarations towards a male partner for that reason-- although, in general, he's not one for PDA. He is very private, just especially so when it comes to his love life.

He's demisexual though, so. You know. Disregard.

[cutemothman]

check on your strong friends, they might be applying for mfa programs

[lohotine]

``Oh, You Liar!``

Multi Char Fic x AFAB! Reader (NSFW)

Ft: Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla, Affogato

CW: Cookiefucking(?) Cockwarming, oral, fingering, blowjob

°•《 AN: oh dear, did I miss valentines?》•°

MINORS DNI! NSFW FIC BELOW CUT

Shadow Milk Cookie;

oh, how you hated him! you knew he was mean, but you never thought it was to such an extent...

not letting you move, even though he was so close to your g-spot. he said he'd let you once he was finished going over some paperwork, but... he's taking forever! it's just not fair.

your shift your thigh ever so slightly. (you've been good for how long now? don't you deserve a little friction?)

the jester notices it instsntly and clicks his tongue in response. "ah ah ah- didn't I tell you to sit still?" he looks at you with lidded eyes, a faint expression of some sort of twisted amusment present through them.

"shadow milk.. you're s'mean to me... you're taking a long time on purpose-"

he grins at you, pressing his forehead to yours. "it'll only take longer if you keep distracting me like this... c'mon, it'll be over soon. just behave for a little while longer, yeah?"

hah! a little while longer my ass! knowing him, he'd probably continue stalling until your breaking point... the thought made you pout.

"what's that look for?" he asked, only to be met with your stubborn silence.

how unfortunate... he prides himself on getting reactions out of you, you know?

he presses a hot kiss to your collar bone, lightly sucking on the dough.

just what did he think he was doing? was he expecting you to sit still during this as well?

"mmph- shadow milk--" you grind your hips. (you just couldn't help yourself! not when you've been stuffed full for nearly an hour now...)

he places a hand on your knee, preventing any further movement. "that wasn't permission to move."

you can't help the whine that escapes your lips. "you're not being fair..."

he scoffs at the statement. didn't you know that he wasn't a fair man? "punishments aren't supposed to be fair. now stop moving, 'kay? i promise i'll be done soon..."

Pure Vanilla

"you... ah- said you were inexperienced!" you muster through hot breaths, hair sticking to your flushed face.

he spread your already soaking folds with two fingers, thumb resting on your bud. "mmm, but I am..."

one of your legs rests on top of his shoulder. he presses a kiss to your thigh, slowly moving closer to the spot where you actually want him to be.

(he sure was taking his time... there's no way he didn't know what he was doing to you!)

he places a kiss right on your cunt, and you can feel his hot breath at your entrance. still, he doesn't give you what you want.

"hurry up already..."

pure vanilla can't help but chuckle. "so impatient..." though, he obliges. he quickly darts his tongue in and out of your clit; its only purpose to get you even more on edge.

and before you can even say anything else, he pumped both fingers in, setting a steady pace. oh- and the way his tongue circled around your clit;

once... twice.. fuck! it drove you insane.

your mouth fell slack, unholy moans falling from your lips. tufts of his golden hair became tangled in your fingers as you grasped it.

of course, he didn't mind. it was only a sign that he was doing his job right. "ngh- pure vanilla-" you managed to choke out between moans.

he looked up at you, mouth never leaving your pussy. "mmhm?" the sound only worked as extra stimulation as it vibrated throughout your body.

what were you even asking for again? you couldn't even remember over how good the blonde was licking you up...

oh, it didn't even matter anyway! so long as he kept sucking on your cunt, you couldn't care less.

Affogato

having you here between his legs... doe eyes looking up at him-

it turned him on much more than he'd like to admit. your tongue licking the slit of his already leaking tip...

he sucked in the cold air through gritted teeth. he wasn't supposed to be getting so worked up over this, but the intoxicating feeling of your mouth on him was a pleasure he found much too enticing.

"you feel so fucking good, baby," he'd say, more labored breaths spilling from his lips.

how strange... the royal advisor was never a person to use such foul language. how did you manage to pull that from him?

you took more of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length and wrapping your hand around what couldn't fit into your mouth.

he grinded his shoe against your clothed entrance, trying to give himself at least some edge in this interaction...

he swore that he held more power over you, and he desperately wanted to prove that fact to be true.

"come on, don't you want me to touch you? don't you want my fucking hands on you?"

he became so desperate like this... so much for holding power over you! oh well, he was always a bit of a liar anyway.

each flick of your tongue sent another shiver up his spine. god, how were you so good at that?

he grabbed a fist-full of your hair and pulled you further onto his dick, gaining a gag from you.

oh how he loved the tears that picked the corners of your eyes!

though, he loved your mouth on him so much more...

[a-d-nox]

how can you glow up: your 1h - your look

to work off my recent post about glow ups. today i will be taking a closer look at 1h themes regarding glowing up.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

1h aries (1°, 13°, 25°), 1h mars, and/or mars aspecting asc

style

embrace boldness: strong, eye-catching styles. opt for tailored cuts, statement pieces, and/or vibrant colors like red, black, and/or deep maroon.

minimalist edge: minimalist outfits with sharp, clean lines work well. think structured blazers, fitted jeans, and sleek dresses.

athletic influences: bomber jackets, chunky sneakers, or athleisure pieces that combine comfort and power/strength.

statement accessories: leather belts, combat boots, and/or metallic jewelry.

beauty

defined features: use makeup to emphasize strong features, like sculpted cheekbones (contouring), bold brows, and/or a fierce cat-eye.

bold lip colors: reds and deep tones are perfect for making a statement.

effortless hair: low-maintenance but striking styles suit these people. try tousled waves, a slicked-back ponytail, and/or a pixie cut.

skincare for vibrancy: redness or sensitivity are common for this placement. incorporate calming, anti-inflammatory products (aloe vera, green tea, etc) while also enhancing your natural glow with gentle exfoliation.

body language & presence

command attention: walk with purpose and exude confidence in every movement.

strong posture: your body should radiates strength, so maintain good posture and carry yourself with self-assuredness.

active energy: use expressive gestures and/or physical activity to channel your energy into dynamic actions that captivate others.

mindset mantras

“my energy is magnetic."

"i am unstoppable.”

“i glow when i embrace my strength.”

1h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°), 1h mercury, and/or mercury aspecting asc

style

play with versatility: you are adaptable, so lean into styles that allow you to switch things up easily. opt for pieces that can be layered, mixed and matched, or dressed up or down. modular wardrobes and quirky accessories can also keep things fresh.

focus on youthful, playful vibes: embrace fun patterns, bright colors, or playful silhouettes. think cropped tops (careful if you in corporate - office sirens are a tiktok thing they not real lol), sneakers, and relaxed tailoring.

highlight the hands and arms: gemini rules the hands and arms, so accessories like rings, bracelets, and polished manicures draw attention to you. potentially experiment with finger tattoos (i would say only if mercury beneficially aspecting mars and pluto), colorful nail art, or layered bangles.

embrace intellectual elegance: incorporate "smart", polished touches, like well-fitted blazers, statement glasses, or minimalist yet clever jewelry.

beauty

fresh-faced makeup: aim for light, natural-looking makeup that emphasizes radiance. think glossy lips, dewy skin, and fluttery lashes. experiment with subtle eyeliner or shadow to create a playful but polished eye look.

experiment with hairstyles: don’t be afraid to try new cuts or colors. bangs, layers, or multidimensional highlights could add to your playful energy. accessories like barrettes, headbands, and/or clips can reflect your quick-changing vibe.

skin-care for a luminous look: focus on lightweight, hydrating products that enhance your natural glow without feeling heavy.

body language & presence

curiosity: you should aim for being naturally inquisitive and engaging. a warm smile (ugh hate telling people to smile more) and attentive posture amplify your charm.

express with your hands: use gestures when speaking to showcase your animated and captivating energy.

keep your energy light and flexible: you come alive in conversations and movement, so let your personality shine in how you interact with others.

mindset mantras

“i am curious and adaptable.”

“my versatility is my superpower.”

“my playfulness enhances my every look.”

1h libra (7°, 19°), 1h venus, and/or venus aspecting asc

style

classic elegance: timeless, sophisticated looks. aim for chic silhouettes, neutral tones, and soft fabrics like silk or cashmere. tailored blazers, flowy dresses, or polished trousers.

balance in outfits: libra thrives on symmetry and balance. counter balance proportions (i typically do fitted top with wide-leg pants as someone with this placement) and pair bold elements with subtle ones.

romantic details: incorporate feminine, romantic touches like lace, ruffles, and/or floral patterns. accessories like pearl earrings (my fav).

matching color theory / finding flattering colors: usually these people are in a soft palette. so pastels and harmonious shades like blush pink, light blue, or cream highlight your natural beauty.

stylish accessories: beauty is in the details. think statement jewelry, a chic handbag, or elegant shoes can complete your look.

beauty

glowing skin: prioritize your complexion via hydrating skincare. face mists, illuminating primers, and natural highlighters can give you that venusian glow.

perfecting your brow shape: symmetrical beauty is a libra venus and rising thing, so well-groomed, balanced brows enhance your natural beauty.

soft makeup: opt for soft, romantic looks: rosy blush, nude or pink lips, and neutral eyeshadow. slight winged eyeliner adds a touch of drama without being overpowering.

the art of hair: best suited in polished hairstyles. consider sleek ponytails, loose waves, or elegant buns. highlights or balayage in warm, subtle tones can add to your perceived sophistication.

body language & presence

charm: smile often (i hate when people tell me that) and project warmth. libra risings have a natural charisma that attracts others.

posture: a graceful, upright posture enhances your air of elegance. yoga or pilates can help develop this poise.

be approachable: your energy is diplomatic and magnetic, so lean into your ability to create harmony in social interactions.

mindset mantras

“i am the embodiment of beauty and grace."

“my elegance is effortless.”

“harmony begins within, and it radiates out.”

1h sagittarius (9°, 21°), 1h jupiter, and/or jupiter aspecting asc

style

go bold: embrace bold colors and lively patterns that reflect an adventurous spirit. flowing, luxurious fabrics like satin or silk mirror the abundance you bring.

elevate with elegance: invest in quality over quantity. timeless pieces, like tailored blazers or elegant dresses, will amplify your glow.

cultural inspiration: styles inspired by travel or cultural motifs (like patterns, jewelry, or textiles) resonate beautifully with this aspect. of course in a non-appropriative manner .

comfort is key: ensure your wardrobe blends style with comfort. think soft, flowing cuts or boho-chic aesthetics.

beauty

radiant skin: focus on achieving a healthy, radiant glow through skincare. hydration and nourishing products are essential.

bright and open makeup looks: go for makeup that enhances your natural warmth. think luminous foundation, bronzer for a sun-kissed look, and golden highlighter work well.

hair with movement: jupiter’s energy loves freedom, so hairstyles that are loose, flowing, or natural-looking (like waves or curls) suit you best.

body language & presence

confident posture: you have a natural charisma. stand tall and own your space to project confidence effortlessly.

engaging smile: let your smile be your signature. a genuine smile enhances your approachable energy.

generous energy: exude warmth by being present and enthusiastic when engaging with others.

mindset mantras

“my positivity is my greatest glow.”

“i radiate abundance and confidence.”

“growth and self-love are the foundations of my beauty.”

1h pisces (12°, 24°), 1h neptune, and/or neptune aspecting asc

style

dreamy, flowing silhouettes: soft, fluid clothing. opt for dresses, skirts, or tops with flowing, romantic designs. sheer or satin fabrics amplify this vibe.

whimsical details: lace, embroidery, or shimmery accents add a touch of magic to your look. layering pieces like shawls or cardigans can evoke a dreamy, layered aesthetic.

soft colors: pastel shades, muted tones, or oceanic hues like lavender, pale blue, seafoam green, and silver.

beauty

luminous skin: enhance a natural glow. use hydrating skincare and dewy makeup products, like liquid highlighters or illuminating primers.

soft, diffused makeup: focus on dreamy, blended looks. think soft, smoky eyes, blush with a watercolor effect, and sheer lip glosses.

hair with flow: loose waves, soft curls, or tousled styles. hair accessories, like pearl clips or headbands, add a whimsical touch.

body language & presence

graceful movements: move with calmness and fluidity. practices like yoga or dance can enhance your poise.

mystical energy: lean into your mysterious vibe by being introspective and allowing your presence to speak louder than words.

soft gaze: your eyes are likely a standout feature. enhance your connection with others through warm, soulful eye contact.

mindset mantra

"i radiate beauty and grace effortlessly.”

"my creativity is my greatest assets.”

“i glow when i align with my inner magic."

1h ruler in the 4h

style

comfort meets elegance: blend cozy and chic. think knitwear, flowy fabrics, and soft layers that make you feel at ease yet polished. fabrics like cotton, linen, and cashmere resonate with the homey yet refined vibe they should aim for.

heritage-inspired looks: incorporate cultural or familial influences into your style, like heirloom jewelry, vintage pieces, and/or traditional patterns.

neutral/earthy tones: soft, calming colors like beige, cream, sage green, or light blues create a harmonious, approachable aesthetic.

classic, timeless staples: opt for timeless pieces that feel like a second skin, like well-fitted jeans, crisp shirts, and/or a versatile trench coat.

beauty

natural glow: emphasize a fresh, radiant complexion. focus on nourishing skincare and light, dewy makeup that enhances your natural features.

relaxed hair styles: loose waves, soft braids, and/or simple updos work well; they reflect their easygoing, comforting energy.

soothing beauty rituals: prioritize self-care routines at home, like face masks, at home manicures, or aromatherapy.

body language & presence

grounded confidence: project a calm, steady presence that reflects your inner security.

emotional connection: share your personal story or background when appropriate - it can make your presence more relatable and magnetic.

warm, inviting energy: your glow-up is amplified when you make others feel at home around you.

mindset mantras

“my glow begins from within.”

“i balance comfort and beauty effortlessly.”

“when i feel at home in myself, my light shines everywhere.”

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button! 

return to nox’s guide to metaphysics

return to nox's hypotheses

© a-d-nox 2025 all rights reserved

[dollfacefantasy]

LOCK ME DOWN TONIGHT ♡

pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

summary: seeing how you handle babysitting his nephew gives your boyfriend some ideas about what he wants in the future with you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, breeding kink, tummy bulge, biting, au obviously lol

a/n: i hope you guys like this one. it's my first time writing for sukuna so i'm still learning. he's kinda ooc here but i scrapped my other draft last minute and i thought this was a cute idea so whatever. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3

kinktober slot: day 18 - breeding kink

You make sure to be as quiet as you possibly can while shutting the door to Yuji's bedroom. After an hour of going back and forth and the small boy pleading to stay up with you and your boyfriend downstairs, you'd finally managed to get him to fall asleep.

Padding down the carpeted hallway, you turn the corner and hit the light switch off before descending the stairs. Your socks slide against the hardwood floors of the landing as you hop down the last few steps and then cross the entryway into the living room where your boyfriend waits for you on the couch.

He's leaned back into the corner of the puffy cushions, relaxed as ever in a pair of sweats and a tank top on his upper half. Both of his exposed arms drape over the backing. Upon seeing you, he flashes a lazy grin and runs his fingers through the unkempt hair atop his head.

"You finally get the little brat to go down?" he asks.

You nod and make your way over to him. "No thanks to you," you say as you sit down beside him.

He smirks and lowers one of his muscular arms to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side.

"You're just such a natural with him. I didn't think you'd need my help," he says, a hint of teasing lacing every word.

Shooting him a playful glare, you scoff and scoot into his lap. "You still could've tried. He's your nephew."

"He calls you his aunt though," he teases. He leans in to nip at your cheek and nose your temple.

The words bring a slight rush of warmth to your cheeks. They're true. The little boy you just put to bed acknowledges you as part of the family just as much as he does his actual uncle. In fact, you were the one to push Sukuna into accepting the offer to babysit tonight. He hadn't wanted to, preferring to spend the evening alone with you all to himself. But integrating yourself into his life mattered to you, so he only protested a little before agreeing.

He notes your reaction to his prior statement, and his smug look reaches his eyes. "Oh come on, don't tell me that has you all flustered," he taunts, "You're too easy."

"Shut up. You said it like that on purpose," you say and pinch his arm.

Grinning at the gesture, he maneuvers the two of you around so that you're on your back and he's above. The tv casts a faint glow over the both of you, the flashing pictures painting the scenery with pale blues and washed-out pinks.

"How'd I say it, babe?" he asks.

"Like you do when you're trying to get me all worked up and stuff," you answer, tracing the tip of your index finger over the tattoos spanning from his shoulder to his arm. Your eyes flit between his piercing eyes and soft lips.

"Is that what you think I'm trying to do?" he says. But before you even get your answer out, he ducks down to pepper kisses along the column of your throat.

Your eyes flutter, a natural response to the feathery touches upon your skin. He always started out like this, tender and gentle, before devolving into his true nature. One of your arms wraps around him, your fingers trailing up the ribbed fabric of his top. The other pushes on his shoulder in a light rebuff.

"Yeah, but we can't," you protest.

"And why not?" he breathes. The puff of air fans over your flesh, chilling the parts wet with his saliva.

"Because 'kuna..." you start, trailing off a bit as he lays more kisses along your carotid artery, "We're supposed to be babysitting. He could come downstairs..."

"He won't," he interjects, "You saw how tired he was. He's out for the night. Plus he's clumsy, I'd hear him coming even if he did get up."

You sigh and bring your hand up to lace through his messy pink locks. He's pretty good at convincing you.

"Why are you so riled up anyways?" you ask in an attempt to give yourself a distraction.

He chuckles against your skin, nipping a mark onto your neck before speaking. "Is it really a mystery?" he asks.

"Yeah. What were you doing while I was upstairs?" you ask playfully.

"It's not that," he says, smirking at your cluelessness. He rolls his hips against one of your thighs and lets you feel the semi hard bulge beneath the cotton of his pants. "It's been all night. Seeing you taking care of Yuji like that, it has me thinking about what it would be like to see you carrying a baby of our own."

Your eyes snap open and look at the ceiling with sudden, wide clarity. You hadn't been expecting that at all. Your mind had been more in the realm of short-term, simpler things. Like scrolling past some porn on his phone or catching sight of a sex scene on the tv. Not the prospect of getting you knocked up.

It's not even that you're opposed to the idea. You just didn't think he would feel this way about it.

He senses your startled reaction and grinds his stiffening length against you again. "You're just so good with him. Can't help it," he mumbles.

"I- um... thanks?" you say timidly, voice still soft and shaky from the affection he's lavishing on your neck.

"Don't be so shy about it. Don't act like you haven't thought about it too," he murmurs.

The plush inner skin of your thighs presses into his sides. That was also true. You had thought of it before. After years of being together, the occasional image of him cradling a sleeping baby or boosting a small child onto his shoulders crossed your mind. You'd just kept them to yourself knowing your boyfriend wasn't exactly the lovey-dovey, wistful daydreams type.

"Yeah... I've thought about it before," you confirm.

"Mhm. That's right," he says. His hips have settled into a continuous rhythm. He rocks them between your legs. You feel the dull bloom of pleasure beginning at your center. "You'd look fuckin' gorgeous full of my baby," he whispers.

Your legs squeeze him tighter as if to draw his body in closer. Your breaths that had already been shallow come out more shuddery. It was silly almost, how hot the simple fantasies of domestic bliss could get you. The image of his large hands splayed across your swollen belly. The thought of his lips kissing over your bump, teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh as they do to every other part of your body. The praises he'd rain upon your figure that expanded to accommodate his spawn.

"Yeah, I know you like that," he murmurs, "So c'mon. Let me try to put a baby in you."

"Tonight?" you squeak. 

His hands slide up your sides as he nods. One of his large palms rises to paw at your breast. He gropes the mound, further stirring the arousal brewing within you.

"Yeah tonight," he says, "You feel how hard I am for you, how bad I want it. I don't think we'd have much trouble."

Involuntarily, you whimper. As much as you planned to resist, giving into temptation seemed like the only option now. It's impossible to resist him when he surrounds you like this, when he engulfs your perception so completely. You pull him closer on top of you in silent agreement. He knows your signs though, so it's all he needs.

His kisses grow rough on your neck, more set on leaving marks behind. The hand on your breast continues to toy with it while occasionally the fingers glide up to play with your nipple. It had pebbled up under your t-shirt, eager for his touch.

"You're gonna love it. Being so dependent, needing me all the time," he rasps, "And with a body like this, you were made for it."

His hands roam over your curves. They fondle and squish, intent on feeling every soft inch of you. Your clit pulses for him in anticipation of what's coming.

"And I'll be just as crazy for it, watching your body bend to my will, shaping up to carry our child," he whispers.

Another round of chills erupts across your skin. Both of you breathe heavier. You whine as his mouth migrates onto your collar bone, skimming the neckline of your top. Your chest heaves for him. Every part of you craves his attention.

Between your legs, your folds slicken with arousal, preparing for the inevitable. The throbbing from your delicate bundle of nerves only grows more intense, and you wish his fingers were down there providing you with some relief instead of lingering on your chest. Trying to get some friction on your own, you lift your hips to reciprocate him rubbing up against you, but he thwarts the efforts by pushing you back down and keeping you in place. He wants you where he wants you, you don't get to move and decide otherwise.

"Patience, doll," he tells you, "No need to rush."

Despite his words of delay however, his next move is to adjust your clothes into positions that leave you accessible to each other. He shoves his sweats down to mid thigh, allowing his heavy cock to spring free. The ache for you is practically visible to your eyes. It stands stiff with little beads of precum oozing from the tip. His fingers hook over the waistband of your bottoms and do the same to them, lowering them enough that he can get to the sweet spot between your legs.

He also tugs your shirt down, letting your tits spill over the neckline into his view. Ducking down, he latches onto a nipple while stroking himself. You hear the throaty groans echoing within him. Thoughts of your chest swelling up in the future dance through his head as you reach around to gently run your nails over the nape of his neck.

The schlick schlick schlick of his hand fisting his cock is audible from between the two of you. He bucks into his hand a few times before lining up and teasing your entrance with the tip.

"'kuna..." you whimper, lips forming into a pout. 

Part of it was impatience, part of it was nerves. Either way, he glances at you, lips curled into that sinister smile.

"Don't whine, brat. You know it never gets you what you want," he chides.

The words don't ring true though because seconds after saying them, he pushes the rest of his girthy shaft into your tight little hole. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sounds pouring out of you. Your eyes roll back as a harsh breath leaves his lungs.

"That's it. No more complaining," he mutters.

He sinks all the way in, taking a moment to feel the tight warmth of you around him before pulling back and starting to pump in and out. Your hand stays clamped over your face as he grins down at you. No matter how many times the two of you fuck, he'll never grow tired of seeing your face when he first slips it in.

You gush around his cock as he thrusts. His movements are measured and small, but they still strike hard and raw. The heated skin of your ass bounces against his thighs every time he slams forward. Each motion pushes you harder against the couch.

Soft mewls leak out against your palm. It all feels so good. His body caging yours down. The swollen head of his cock nudging all the sweet spongy spots inside of you. Even the sight of him above you stokes the flames of lust burning in you. His muscles flex as he holds himself up and slides into you over and over.

"Squeezing me so much, doll. You want this bad, huh? Wanna make me a daddy?" he taunts.

You bite your lip under your hand and nod eagerly. Another needy moan seeps from you as his hand comes down and presses on your belly. The sensation makes your hips squirm. You tighten up more around him.

"So good for me, takin' it like this," he grunts, "Doing what you're meant to."

Your eyes flutter as you respond with another weak nod. Looking down, you catch the faint bulge that appears with every jolt of his pelvis. The sight is enough to spur you closer to the edge. You reach up for his shoulders, pulling a bit to get him closer.

He obliges your gesture and lowers himself on top of you, your bodies flush against each other now as he grinds himself deep inside of you.

"You're gonna look so fucking good, all rounded out for me. I'm gonna want you knocked up until you can't give me any more," he murmurs.

You feel his lashes flutter against your neck before his teeth sink into your neck. The bite isn't hard enough to draw blood or really hurt, just gives you a nice little sting. A small shock of pain to mix in with the pleasure.

"Fill me up, 'kuna. Wanna feel it take," you whisper, your voice breathy and broken up by whimpers.

"Oh it's gonna take," he grumbles.

He keeps rutting into you on the couch until he feels himself reaching that high. Like he usually does with you, he keeps his face against your neck when he cums. His groan vibrates against your sweaty skin while cum spurts into you from his tip. He moves in erratic beats, losing his sense of rhythm.

Your legs lock around his waist, and you keep him pressed close as can be as you reach your own peak. Rocking your hips upward, you meet his handful of final thrusts. You manage to stay quiet through it before finally sliding your hand off of your face. A full breath fills your lungs.

As you come down, you melt into the couch cushions below. He stays on top of you, catching his breath. His body rests there, boneless and limp. He doesn't pull out, just stays there for a few moments.

When he finally does detach himself, he lazily lifts himself up and slides back. He fixes his clothes and yours, looking down at you a bit softer than before. A softness he would never verbalize, of course.

Instead of talking, he flops over and squeezes in beside you on the couch, slotting himself between your side and the backing. He wraps an arm around your waist. His eyes casually land on the tv.

"Try not to move too much. We want it to take," he mumbles and nestles his face against your neck again.

[codnasties]

kinktober ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ soap & price ₊˚ · ♡ ·˚₊ punishment

price is a man who likes his rules in some aspects. especially when it comes to you and soap. he knows the both of you love to misbehave, doing shit you're not supposed to or allowed to do. because you and soap are two of the bratiest and most misbehaving subs ever.

so when price went out to run some errands, you and soap had to seize the chance. you had been waiting for the captains aproval to jump each others bones, and he had told you to wait, that whatever they wanted was going to happen that night. but he wasn't home, so he couldn't stop you.

that's why the last thing price expected when he got back home was to see his two misbehaving subs fucking like two mutts in heat. you sitting in soap's cock riding him while he thursted up into you from bellow, right in the fucking middle of the livingroom.

and it seemed like you had been going at it for a bit now. proof of it was the mess you had made out of yourselves. both of you covered with a mix of johnnys cum after his numerous releases and your juices and also staining everything within hand's reach.

saying price was mad is an understatement because that anger soon turned into disappointment. you couldn't wait. you had to go and break the rules. and now he has to punish you both. but especially soap because he was the one who got the idea and started all of it.

so price completely ties him to a chair, in a way that he's unable to free himself, and plays with his already sensitive cock, but always bringing him to the edge of an orgasm before pulling his hand away. his dick imposibily hard and his tip turning an angry red. and you knew better than trying to help him, because if you interfered, your awaiting punishment would only get worse.

once the captian knows johnny is so pent up that a simple graze of his finger will make him spill his seed all over himself, he stops and turns to your sitting form on the couch. wainting expecatantly to be disciplined but with a tang of fear, looking at the older man with puppy eyes trying to soften him up.

but john doesn't have to think twice before he grabs you, throws you onto the couch and manhandles you until you are bending over the armrest. he pushes himself in using the accumulated fluid from you and so fucking and starts roughly fucking your pussy, making you even more overstimulated after all the orgasms with soap.

if he's feeling extra benevolent, he might untie his seargeant, but with the sole purpose of giving him an even better view of his cock plunging repeatedly into your weeping pussy. and just watching, no touching allowed.

and that's what he does, he breaks the rules a bit once again by holding your hand in a desperate attempt to get something, but he ends just there, seeing your cunt get pounded for the n-th time that day - he's lucky price is going to let that one slide-.

soap is shaking with need. he wishes he could join in, latch onto your clit and suck it, play with your tits, play with price's balls or lap at the juices that are runing from your wet middle down his shaft. but all he's getting, as the final part of your punishement is to cum on you.

yes, cum on you, because price has to make a statement to finish it all. if you wanted to make a mess, then so were you. he orders the scot to cum on you, covering your lower stomach with his cum. and he hates it, trust me. he wished he could be shooting his load inside of you insted of letting it go to waste. so did you.

but price had told him to just keep going. keep firsting his hypersensitive dick until he was shooting blanks. all while seeing you chase another orgasm by riding price's cock until he came while being snuggle inside of you.

captain prices hopes that the two of you finally understood that there are rules for a reason.

[safination]

The Only Temptation

|Masterlist| Pairings: Alastor x Reader Tags/ Warnings; f!Reader, Demon! Alastor. Heats! Ruts! Alastor and Ruts! dual POV, Handjob, dirty talking, phone handjob, TLDR: Alastor's rut is being drawn out by a doe who is definitely not you, but weirdly enough or not so weirdly enough, he only seems to craves you. AN: Hello! I haven't posted in a while, but pshhh we'll just ignore that. Since I'm turning the big 22, this fic will also be 2/2. This is just 1/2 (Truthfully, I just ran out of time and decided to cut this into 2 parts.) Also, will you look at that! My first smut! Handjobs should count as smut right? And here I thought my religious ass would never make one of these. Oh, well. It goes without saying but I'm going to say it anyway: MINORS DNI

There’s a doe in the Hazbin Hotel.

You bumped into her as you were making your way to Alastor’s radio tower. There would be more of these types of interactions if you actively lived in the hotel like you want, but Alastor refuses to allow you to stay for too long with the excuse of it being safer to hide you away at home while he stays here.

There are ears on the top of this doe’s head. It reminds you of Alastor. They’re a bit cute – more than, ‘a bit cute’ if you were being honest. Downright adorable if you were really being honest. Spots trails over her shoulders and continue into her clothes.

What an itty-bitty doe. So ready to be devoured! (Part of you wonders if Alastor would appreciate the taste of a doe’s flesh. A surprise gift, maybe?)

You’ve never seen a doe in Hell before, but she’s not really important to you right now. So, you throw her to the back of your mind and make your way to Alastor’s radio tower.

All of Alastor’s senses are heightened because of that damn doe. It’s quite a predicament as rut season nears, and the pheromones being released place him in quite the difficult spot.

It gets worse when his ears catch upon a slight knock and . . . and the scent of you.

Alastor can’t describe what prickles his nose, but it’s the scent of morning coffee shared through one mug. He takes a deeper whiff and it becomes the scent of soft music playing through the radio as you dance around the room.

It seems that doe has unlocked something in him. The scent of you has never tasted like that until now. It brings out a hunger for you that goes deeper than normal.

The smell intensifies when the door clicks open, and that hunger strikes even deeper. It travels through the air, settling itself in his stomach. Alastor pierces the tips of his claws into his skin before he could fully lose himself.

It becomes worse . . . better? . . . when you remove your coat, hanging it on the rack. The scent becomes so strong that he’s enchanted for more than a second. Actually, it’s so heavenly to his senses that blood pools between his legs and settles into his thighs.

Alastor inches closer to the desk, hiding the way his cock has pitched a tent from just the scent of you. He pretends to busy himself with the buttons on the panel, even when the broadcast ended five-minutes ago.

You swat his hand away, and sit on the table. There’s deliberate care in the way you prop yourself, careful not to hit any of the knobs.

A small smile. “Hi.”

“Hi . . .” Alastor lays his head on your thighs, shighing into their plumpness as he swipes his thumb on your skin. Everything about you sends high frequency pitches into his skin. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“Well, my dearest,” you begin, massaging the base of his antlers, “the purpose of a surprise if for it to be unsuspecting.”

The witty response to your statement dies in his throat. A groan of relief replaces it as you continue to massage his antlers. That annoying itch lessens when you press on the base just a little firmer.

That fact that it feels good to have his antlers scratched can only mean one thing . . .

“You’re nearing your rut,” you say, plain and simple, as if his unnoticed erection already isn’t an indicator. “Hmmm, it seems I picked a good time to drop by.”

Alastor leans his cheek a little bit deeper into your thighs. “It’s still too early.”

“Does it have to do something with that little doe I spotted earlier?”

Alastor isn’t getting used to your scent.

Usually, strong scents should fade into the background after some time. Usually. Alastor is constantly and painfully aware of the scent of heaven on your skin.

Everything about you is driving him up the wall. So much so, the Alastor stays limp in your hold, afraid that shifting will cause his already sensitive erection to brush against you.

“What a silly thought,” he says, even as his cock throbs uncomfortably in his pants. Alastor’s never been this hard before. That heavenly scent means he’ll have to send you away soon if his rut is hitting a little early.

How has he never noticed how good you smell?

“There’s no reason you have to go through this alone.” You pull on the ends of his hair. “Maybe there’s a reason why it takes you a month to calm down. Wouldn’t getting your satisfaction speed things along?”

“That’s out of the question.”

“You won’t know if we don’t try,” you say, frowning a little. “We can at least try, dearest. It wouldn’t hurt.”

Alastor allows himself to dream about it. It would be nice to have you to himself for a month, if his erection is an indicator. Your very presence is already causing a wet patch of pre-cum to spread. He’s so painfully hard that he can feel the beat of blood going through his veins.

Alastor would take you, hiding you at home. It’s purposely far from the prying eyes of the bustling city. There he would spend the next month burying himself into you. The hunger that gnaws on his belly will be satiated with the taste of the combined fluids dripping down your cunt.

No, that wouldn’t do. That would just be a waste of perfectly good cum. It needs to stay inside you if he’s going to defy a Sinner’s biology. Alastor would need to take every drop, and make sure it’s not wasted. He would fill you up until a large bulge would—

What is he thinking about?

Giving in to his instincts would do you more harm than good. You weren’t a doe, and that means your body isn’t meant to handle his rut.

“It’s not safe for you to be at the hotel at the moment.” Alastor is playing a dangerous game – one where Heaven has set its hat into the ring.

There’s a reason why he’s hidden the house from prying eyes. It’s much safer . . . or at least that’s the reason he’s giving you.

A small frown. “Then we can hide away at home.”

“I don’t appreciate having to repeat myself.” Alastor nuzzles into your thigh. “We have the same argument every season.”

“I see,” you say, and that’s a proper frown on your lips now. “I won’t be seeing you for some time then.”

“Now, now. Don’t frown, cher.” Alastor pushes your lips up into a bright smile. “You look absolutely ravishing in one of these.”

There’s a small smile that grows on your face.

You tilt his chin, and press a kiss on the edge of his smile. Alastor crosses his legs, digging his claws into them to try and regain any semblance of control.

“I think I would almost miss you, my dearest,” you tell him, showing off that cheeky, little smile. “It’s bound to get incredibly dull around here. It always does when you’re not around.”

Alastor barks out a laugh, pulling your face into his hold to stare into you. Just a little longer. That’s all he needs. “Flirting? That’s certainly a new tactic,” he says, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think I would miss you as well, cher.”

Alastor pulls off his bowtie in one swift motion, throwing it off somewhere irrelevant. It’s been hours, yet he’s still so painfully hard. It forced him to hide away in his room the moment you left. Changing into looser clothing helps, but every brush of his cock sends tingles up his spine.

His shadow crawls up the wall with a scowl. The thing zooms around, seemingly in a mood as foul as his. It disappears under the cracks of the door, and Alastor doesn’t have enough blood circulating through his brain to question where it went.

Maybe, the blood would be passing through his brain if it wasn’t pooling in his throbbing erection. It’s been throbbing all day long.

Damn that does.

Alastor should kill her; end the madness she’s bringing. If the hormones from her heat stop, then his rut won’t start for another few days, or maybe even a week if he’s lucky.

The delay of his rut means the delay of his departure. Alastor can keep you by his side for a moment longer. Just a little longer until the inevitable.

You can be by his side. You can stay with him. You can . . . you . . . you!

The scent of you invades his nose. It hits harder the more he inhales. But you shouldn’t be here. Alastor sent you away. He made sure you exited those hotel doors, and he kept his eyes on the horizon until he could no longer see you and then a little longer after that.

His shadow slithers back into the room, something in its hands. Alastor lifts his head from the pool of pillows and . . . and it’s your coat.

The scent of you lingers on it.

“Get that thing away from me,” he hisses even as his cock twitches against his underwear. “Go burn it in the fireplace.”

The shadow slithers closer, dropping the coat Alastor just demanded to be burnt. It’s never defied one of his orders before.

His shadow pushes it closer to his face, and all anger fizzles at his throat when the smell of you breaches his nose. It drives him crazy, but it brings some sort or soothing effect as well.

Did you forget it here?

Or did you leave this for him?

Alastor buries his face into it, even when he knows he should return the thing. Alastor isn’t a dense Sinner. He’s well aware of what will happen if he allows something like this to stay . . . but what if you really did leave it for him?

The cloth of his pajama chafes against his skin. It’s too warm, and the scent of your coat is a splash of gasoline in an already burning sea of flames.

The image of holding you plagues his mind. Despite the burning in his skin, Alastor wouldn’t care as long as it came from you. Burning would feel heavenly as long as it was you who held the other end of that matchstick.

The echo of your laughter bounces in his mind, and blood shoots straight down, fueling his erection even more. The cloth from his underwear brushes against it, and a tiny groan escapes him as it goes over the sensitive head.

Alastor’s had enough. It’s adding fuel to his already foul mood. He shreds his clothes off, tearing it with his claws. He lies in a pool of scrapped fabric, his dick springing forth.

The shadow scoots your coat just a little bit closer. Alastor inhales the scent, burying himself into it. It’s a fuel to an already burning flame, but it’s coming from you. So, how bad can it really be?

He shifts his legs, and the way his cock rubs against the silk sheets tears coaxes a moan from his throat. It’s debauchery. It’s sinful . . . but it feels too good. Wet patches of pre-cum stains his sheets.

Alastor trails his palms lower, running them through his stomach until he’s fisted his cock. He pumps his shaft through his fist, trying to find relief.

It’s not . . . It’s not working?

He searches his mind, trying to remember how your fingers would work him into his release.

How tight would you squeeze him?

Where would you start? Alastor should remember that much, considering it was your hand pumping his cock.

Right . . . The head.

Alastor rubs his sensitive head, swirling it around like you do, and fuck! It’s just a shitload of nothing.

His fingers are too rough. You know how to build him into cumming, but you’re not here right now. Haphazardly fisting his cock isn’t going to bring him anywhere.

The temptation to give up is there, but he’s been erect all day. Alastor needs to end this tonight.

Alastor massages the tip once more, but with more purpose, just like you do. A moan releases into the air. If he shuts off all senses, he can pretend that it’s your hand that’s—

His shadow holds up a ringing, landline phone.

Alastor looks at it, then at the hand still fisted around his cock, and the back at his shadow.

The shadow looks back at him.

Alastor squeezes himself, ignoring the shadow as he tries to build that same mood. “Throw it away.”

His shadow has a look on its face, and pushes the thing closer. Alastor’s about to destroy it himself when he realizes there’s only one Sinner who has the number to this landline – You.

Alastor grabs the receiver, ignoring the fact that he’s very naked, lying on a bed that’s stained with his pre-cum, and a very erect dick.

“Alastor!” The sound of your voice stuns him a little, even when he knew it would be you on the other end. “Alastor?” you call out. “Hello?”

It takes him more than a second to take the blood that’s throbbing his erection, and force it up his brain. “And what have I done to displease you, dearest,” he says, “that you would force me to use this blasted phone?”

“That’s what you say every single time you pick up the phone.” You chuckle a little. A small chuckle – that’s all it took to shoot the blood back down. “Yet, not once have you missed my call.”

“This is my punishment, not yours.”

“I’m calling to let you know I made it home with no problem,” you tell him. “And . . . I think I left my coat there.”

“Ah . . . yes.” Alastor swirls the head of his cock. Maybe hearing your voice would be the push he needed. “I’m looking at it right now.”

“Are you alright, dearest?” you say. “You don’t sound too good.”

“Just . . . a little tired.” His breath goes through the receiver, even as his claws dig through the pillow. It’s doing nothing for him – nothing at all. “There’s no need to concern that ridiculous head of yours.”

It’s silent at the other end of the receiver. Alastor can hear the gears turning in your head. You always were a bit too perceptive about him. “Did you run into your new little, doe friend?”

“That thing is not my friend,” Alastor hisses, still trying to pump his shaft.

“My apologies then,” you say, snickering. “I forget that you do not allow yourself the pleasure of friendship, but I’m starting to think that it’s not you who turns away from it.”

“Hilarious.” Alastor’s eyes twitch. Coincidentally, so does his dick. “Well, as lovely as this has been, I’m in the middle of something important. I’ll have one of the ink puppets drop off –”

“I think I left something important in my left pocket,” you say, and despite being miles apart, Alastor can hear your smile. “Could you check it for me, and make sure it’s still there?”

Alastor dips his fingers into your left pocket, finding what seems to be a small card. He flips it over, and this definitely is not a card. It’s a small, polaroid photo. It’s you in that picture. You’re wearing—

Actually, what you’re wearing doesn’t really matter. Alastor will take a look at it later. It’s probably something red. What catches his attention is the fact that your ass is pointed to the air. There are a myriad of bite marks and hickeys around your thighs, leading a path up to your glistening cunt.

“Do you like it?”

Alastor blinks at it for a second . . . and then, another second . . . and its laughter that echoes around his room despite how the picture rushes blood down his already throbbing cock. The need for relief grows stronger.

“Did you take this for me?” Alastor wheezes, eyes bulging in different directions. Tears fall from his eyes as he laughs. “How ridiculous of you, dearest! You’re propped up like a stretching cat.”

“That’s not quite the reaction I was hoping for,” you say, chuckling. “However, I am glad that you’re enjoying it, one way or another.”

Alastor shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, and glances at his painfully throbbing erection. “I’m in quite the predicament because of you.”

“Oh!” You sound a bit too delighted. “So, you’re—”

“As a rock.” Alastor pokes his dick, hoping it would do something.

“How amusing!” Your laughter rings into the receiver. Alastor revels in it, enjoying the sound. “You’re eerily responsive tonight. Shall I send you more?”

Alastor rolls his eyes at you. “Take responsibility for what you’ve caused.”

“Al, I already did my portion,” you say. “I can’t exactly do the next part for you, unless you drag yourself home.”

“And what do you expect me to do with this?”

Alastor swears he can hear the way your eyes roll at him. “I think you know what to do.”

“Don’t mock me.” Alastor flicks the head of his cock. “It’s not working. So, take responsibility for your actions.”

It’s silent for a little bit, but his ears pick up the way you lick your lips. “Why don’t you take a moment to get comfortable.”

Alastor takes a moment he doesn’t need. Talking to you always brings him comfort. “That’s been taken care of.”

“My naughty buck . . . I start with the tip,” you tell him. “I use a little bit of that pre-cum to lubricate you. Swirl it around before pumping it down.”

Alastor does as he’s told, massaging the sensitive tip as he lubricates himself. The sound of your breathing . . . the lingering scent from your coat . . . it coaxes a small moan from him. Alastor makes sure you can hear him through the receiver.

“I trail my fingers up the back, tracing that little line,” you tell him, and there’s definitely a smile on your face. “Can you do that for me, my sweet Al?”

Alastor gasps into the air, using the tips of his sharp claw to trace a path from the base to the head. It’s exactly how you do it. He can almost believe that it’s your hand that’s touching him.

“What’s next?” He breathes through the receiver, closing his eyes to revel in the feeling of everything. “What’s next, cher? Tell me what to do.”

“Make a ring with your finger, and wrap it around the base,” you tell him, voice a bit low. “Tighter, Alastor. Make it tighter than you think you need it to be.”

Alastor will never have the ability to deny you. So, there’s really nothing really else but to make a ring with his finger. The constant pressure feels so heavenly sinful. His hips buck up as he squeezes even tighter. Alastor takes his other hand, and pumps the length of his shaft in slow motions, making sure he feels every ounce of his building pleasure.

“Are you thinking about me right now?” you say. “Am I running around in that head of yours, pressing kisses before I take you into my mouth? Or am I on your hips, bouncing along to the beat of your drum?

“You never stopped.” Alastor thinks he moans your name, but the way he buries his face into your coat overloads his senses. The fire in his stomach burns faster, rising to the way you stroke his flames. “Cher . . . cher.”

“I’m right here, Alastor,” you say, and there’s a playful tint in the way you say his name. “Faster, dear. Lose yourself into me.”

Alastor jerks his hips, driving his cock into his hand faster and faster and faster.

The sound of your breathing pulls him along as he ruts into his hand, chasing sinfully sweet release. Alastor glances back at the photo of you, ass so high it’s practically worshiping him.

As he drives his hips up, Alastor notices something glistening around your folds.

A loud moan rips itself out of him. That’s his seed painting your cunt, slowly dripping out of you.

Finally, finally, his pleasure builds to its peak, and topples him over. Ropes of cum shoot out of his cock, pooling around his stomach. Alastor keeps pumping, dragging out all it’s worth as he spurts all over the bed, watching his seed drop to your coat.

Alastor doesn’t stop humping his fist, even as cum on your coat changes the smell on it. He keeps going until he’s still holding his still erect cock, driving it faster up his own sticky seed.

There’s a second where his mind clears for a fraction. Alastor takes a look around at the mess he’s making, and to the mess that he will make.

 No . . . no.

It’s all wrong.

Why is he cumming on his fist? This . . . this should be inside you.

If you happen to read this, I wanna thank all my friends in this fandom. The friendship I found in all of you makes me happier than I can ever express. I dedicate this handjob to : @nyx-umbrakinesis @redfoxwritesstuff @redvexillum @whatswrongwithblue @inuhalfdemon @crackrodent . I hope each and every one of you knows that you have all pushed me to become a better writer, and pushed me out of my own comfort zone. Each and every one of your works inspire me to become better and push myself to my limits. If it wasn’t for everyone at VoxTek, I would have dropped Alastor a long time ago. There’s a tweet I found that says we should be writing not for an audience but for ourselves and our five friends who are crazy enough to read what we write. I write for me and for you.

[satoruhour]

I’m a satoru girl through and through but….I saw this headcanon post on tiktok saying that geto would grip the head board with one hand…and I’ve never been the same.

a/n: this got a little kick to it ngl! a little half assed bc i havent been writing properly these few days and rather just rambling. tagging my geto fuckers @na-t0 @crysugu @slttygeto

warnings: fem!reader, reader has a hand kink, fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, sex in geto’s parents’ house, finger sucking, n*sfw under the cut

anyone who’s met geto suguru knows he has pretty hands and arms. when he explains the differences between his curses, you’re only looking at his hands, at how he summons them and absorbs them back into his being. when geto drives, the way his muscles tense and release against the black shirt make you clench your thighs together.

the winning thing to finally get you to release a breath is the hand on your thigh, squeezing and feeling around. it’s routine. he’s always done it, but you aren’t sure why the feeling is so vivid now.

“what is it, darling? you keep sighing.” your boyfriend’s eyes are still on the road, unaware of your predicament before he finally has the chance to turn to you: all hot and bothered and heaving. “are you okay? we can turn back around if you’re feeling nervous.”

you were meeting his parents, of course you were nervous! but all you do is reassure him with a hand to his and a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

but dinner is as difficult as it is — “suguru, may i have a tissue?” his mother calls out, not wanting to bother you even though you were closer to the tissue box. geto reaches over your plate with an apology, muscled arm right up to your face that you suck in a breath. your lover takes four prawns, but you already know he’s on his way to peel two for you.

he digs at the prawn’s skin and pulls, rips out the legs and takes off the head, not even hearing his father’s question about what you’re majoring in because you were too hyper-fixated on suguru’s fingers. you pray that he never finds out about this, but he manages to tease it out of you later in his bedroom which his parents have kept clean. the bed fits you perfectly fine, geto’s fingers try their best.

“this why you were so distracted this evening?” geto laughs into your skin, enjoying the shyness you’re exhibiting. even now, you’re trying to hide the way your eyes flicker to his hands that pump in and out of you, mewling into your shirt.

“y—yeah . .” you mumble, grasping at his biceps to be close to geto.

he coos, “oh, baby . . could’ve just said so.” he indulges you, leaning forward to kiss you as his fingers move at a lazy pace, strictly for stretching you out before you’re left empty. you’re no stranger to geto’s cock, and yet the size always takes your breath away.

“now . . gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” geto nudges his tip past your folds and you’re taking quick breaths. you can barely hold his stare, legs coming around to hug his waist. “don’t want my parents hearing how the sweet girl they met just now is actually a filthy little thing.”

you nod.

“tha’s a good girl . .” geto sucks in a breath when he comes right up to the hilt and he thinks he might just cum with how much you’re clenching around him. you’re always so good to him, so pliant and so caring, little broken sputters of his name leaving your lips.

“su— gu— ru—!” he makes a statement with every accurate thrust, threatening you to let out louder sounds than now. he’s so so afraid of his parents walking in, because despite his instructions, he’s not exactly following. his grunts are getting louder and spiralling into moans, not to mention, your pussy is just crying for him.

“you’re so— wet, sweetheart.” suguru drags a hand down to your clit and plays with it, making you arch your back off the sheets and grind your hips back onto his. he tuts. “aht! down, baby. i know you’re eager, but i want you to— f-fuck . . let me do all the work.”

geto smiles a little when you obey, purposefully flexing his arms a little more to wind you up. if the hand on your clit wasn’t enough, the other works its way up your body, spanning the beauty of your stomach and just feeling you. they trail up even more to your face where you lean into his touch and then they’re above you.

you make the mistake of glancing up, seeing how his grips his headboard so damn tightly it’s clear that your cunt is the only cunt to make him feel this way — his biceps tense and move together with the headboard, the uncomfortable squeaking definitely giving you two away. well, the sounds of his balls slamming into your ass was also another indicator, coupled with the squelching of your pussy.

“eyes up here, sweetheart.” you’re caught. again. there’s a smug smirk on his face at your clueless face, having no chance to apologise before he uses the hand on your clit and sticks his fingers in your mouth. you moan around them, grabbing on his wrist immediately to suck on them. geto twitches in you at the sight, rough thrusts stammering just a little and you give him a smile back.

geto chuckles, “what a slut.”

thank u for requesting! request something here ☆

[edwisefoundation]

How to Write an SOP for Australia: Tips for a Successful Application

Writing an effective Statement of Purpose (SOP) for Australia is crucial to your study visa application. The SOP helps universities assess your background, motivations, and academic qualifications. It should clearly explain why you are interested in a specific program and how it aligns with your career goals.

Key tips include:

Research the university and tailor your SOP accordingly.

Structure your SOP with clear sections, such as an introduction, academic background, work experience, and career goals.

Use concise and formal language, avoiding complex sentence structures.

Proofread multiple times to ensure clarity and professionalism.

For a detailed guide on writing a standout SOP, visit How to Write an SOP for Australia.

[sundew199]

Tease

tags: roronoa zoro x f!reader, riding, teasing, smut, just smth short and sweet I've been thinking abt for Zoro.

Thinking about how much Zoro loves it when you ride him, how he crumbles underneath you no matter how fast or slow you go. He's always palming your ass, letting his fingers create little crescent shapes in the flesh as he helps you move up and down, only sometimes. He'll be so lost in the sensation of your cunt dragging up and down on his shaft the only thing he can mutter is little curses and your name.

Zoro especially loves it when you just ride the tip of his dick, teasing him like he deserved to be punished, but you won't hear him complain. The heels of his palms will press into his eye sockets as his bottom lip quivers with the moans he trying to suppress.

You'll laugh under your breath and move his hands away from his eyes with the reasoning of wanting him to watch you as you only let just the tip enter you over and over in shallow thrusts. He's such a mess, overwhelmed and overstimulated with the clench and release just around the head of his cock, he can't take it.

"Ride me all the way." He'll plead, groping and massaging the flesh of your ass as a way to convince you to give him what he wants.

But you shake your head, thumb down on his bottom lip and look at him with pity. "Not yet."

Zoro's head will fall back onto the pillow and a guttural moan will rise up in his throat to coast along your ears, making your shutter and almost go against your own word from how seductive he sounds. Whatever it was about seeing Zoro in such pleasure had your head spinning and pussy throbbing even as he was inside you, barely.

Giving him just a taste, taking in just an inch or two more, he'll sigh, breath out your name so sweetly and look up at your with his one good eye. You'll admit, letting more of his thick cock inside enhances the stretch you crave, but you wanted to work your way down, ruin him along the way.

"Forgot how big you were-"

"No you didn't, stop teasing me and ride me woman." Brashly cutting off your taunting statement, narrowing his one good eye and slapping his palm clean across your ass cheek, prompting you to jolt and gasp. Maybe he thought he got the upper hand with the way his smirk curled into one corner of his mouth, quickly reminding him with a hand around his throat and a whispered reminder that he agreed to this.

Lately, Zoro has been all for relinquishing power to you in the bedroom if that's even the right way to put it. There weren't drastic power dynamics to begin with, but when he felt like it or was too tired, he'd let you order him around and he happily obliged, even if it was torture and felt like he were going to explode.

"But I thought it felt good, and you wanted me to keep doing it?" Leaning over, letting his dick slip out almost completely as you grabbed one side of his face.

"Yea I did, but now I just want to cum baby."

God, he sounded so winded, so defeated, you sympathized with your boyfriend. Kissing the side of his mouth, burying a hand in the back of the moss green hair, you sank down all the way abruptly. Zoro groaned deeply, burying his face in the space between your neck and shoulder, raking his nails down your back.

No time was wasted before his hips were rutting up into yours, holding you tight and still to his body as he sought out what he wanted from the beginning. His breath was hot on your skin, his teeth grazing ever so slightly, like he wanted to bite down, mark you in another way besides the hickeys he left along your collarbone and chest. He was so possessive sometimes, though it didn't make it any less hot how he wanted to make sure everyone knew you belonged to him.

"Shit - you did this on purpose, you know I'm not going to last much longer." Scolding you as if he weren't having the time of his life when you only rode the head of his cock, laughing softly and pulling his hair.

"Could've stopped me at any point Zoro." Laughing as you hooked your chin over his shoulder, sinking both nails into the tanned skin marred with scars and blemishes.

He didn't say anything back, because you knew he didn't have any sort of answer that could counter his actions, knowing full well he wouldn't have stopped you.

His thrusts got faster and more uncoordinated the closer he got, moaning into your skin like anyone could hear him. His fingers dug into your back and sides in the most delightful way, breaking your tender flesh in the most desperate way, like letting go was impossible for him.

Your name was murmured repeatedly in the mix of moans and whines, gasping as he hit the deepest part of you, letting his name come out broken and strained, both of you were close.

Zoro gave you two more powerful thrust, stilling completely after and coming off your shoulder to take in fresh air. All his cum could be felt inside you, his dick plugging it for the time being, knowing that was his intentions. Slowly leaning down for a kiss, Zoro met you with parted lips and a delightful hum, bringing you with him as he adjusted down to lay on the bed more.

"Gotta come up with more ways to tease you like this." Laughing into his lips, fluttering your fingers over and around his cheek, smiling harder to the exasperated sigh coming from him.

"Nap first, then you can do whatever wicked teasing you want to me."

[bernardsbendystraws]

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. PLEASE READ AND LOOK UP DEFINITIONS OF WARNINGS FOR FURTHER CLARIFICATION. HUGE TW FOR THIS CHAPTER. CSA (only mentioned, not described), heavy angst, mentions of family death and family issues, fluff, crying, kissing, comfort, cuddling

A/N: J-Dawg has my heart goddamn. Slightly shorter (it's like 7 pages)

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Part 28: Aches

She’s home. My mom had gotten back into town yesterday and Baylen told me she knows that I’m aware of everything now—all the lies, all the betrayal, all of the truth. Apparently she wants to talk to me. Now that I know everything, she actually wants to have a conversation. 

The thought of her so willing to finally be honest makes my skin itch with irritation. I can’t believe this—years of everything being fake. What else was a lie? How much has my own mother betrayed me? 

“You look bummed. Not enough bacon this morning?” Chris jokes, plopping on the couch next to me. 

His hand immediately lands on my thigh, instinctively pulling my leg over his lap before starting to massage just above my knee. Touch was something I found myself being more hesitant on, but his touch never made me feel anything but safe and loved. 

I focus on the sensation of his fingers rubbing over my skin, the warmth of his hand radiating over every inch of my body with a smothering comfort. My eyes linger on my leg in his lap, drifting upward as I inch my gaze towards his face, a blush covering my face as I notice how intently he’s staring at me. 

A dry huff hums through my lips at his playful statement. This morning, he had made me plenty of bacon, purposefully luring me out of my bed so I would cuddle on the couch with him. 

And it worked. My nose made my sleepy body walk towards the scent of bacon with a hazy yearning for the food. 

Chris fed me on the couch until we both eventually fell asleep. He seems really tired recently. Part of me has wondered if he’s been able to sleep at night, but another part of me wonders why he hasn’t invited me to sleep in his room. 

It’s been awhile since we had a true sleepover—almost a week. I’d see him for a brief moment before school and then we would hang out afterwards, except when I was working on assignments or my project I still needed to fully complete with Shawn. 

“I can make more if you want,” Chris teases, leaning forward until his nose slightly brushes the tip of my own. 

The corners of my lips twist upward with delight, my eyes narrowing as I feel his breath fan across my face. 

Something about the way he’s looking at me makes me feel alive, completely immersed in the present moment. It’s like my heart is beating for one purpose and one purpose only—to be seen and no pressure for anything else. 

“I’m okay, but thank you.” I mention, my nose wrinkling as he spares me a sympathetic glance. 

A moment passes. I feel his hands freeze while gliding along my calves. My eyes drift up to see his face scrunched with an unreadable emotion.

His hands retract as if he’s been burned. I feel my legs fall as he stands up, clearing his throat and keeping his eyes trained on the ground. 

Something has been different. It feels like everytime we sit long enough in silence, he thinks too much—he thinks about something that makes him pull away. 

“I’m gonna, uh—I’m gonna go to my room,” he says, walking off down the hallway without a second glance.

___

It’s quiet. The night is at an all time silent, the subtle noise of shaking branches and ruffling leaves the only sort of echo. It’s really late. I know I shouldn’t be up, I have school tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep.

Not after the phone call I got.

It was from my mother. I was startled by my phone ringing after getting ready for bed. She kept asking me to come home so she could explain, she kept begging for me to listen—but, I couldn’t face her. 

I told her to talk. I struggled to comprehend the words, but I heard her loud and clear. 

She didn’t know at first. My mom thought it was so wholesome how much my dad loved me, she thought it was sweet. 

That changed at some point. She realized things were not adding up.

And she ignored it. 

“-I was in shock! I–I loved him, I had his children—I married him. I wanted to believe he was the man I loved and…and he just…wasn’t.”

She was in shock. My own mother couldn’t protect me because she refused to confront reality—she couldn’t take care of me since she didn’t wanna see the truth. 

She cared more for a cowardly, fake man than she did for me—her innocent child. Calling her mom doesn’t even feel right. Part of me is tempted to just label her by her first name—Rylie. 

Rylie is alive. 

My mom is dead. 

I feel a warm hand land on my shoulder. My foggy eyes stay trained in front of me as I feel a body sit next to me on the porch steps. 

“You okay, kid?” Jimmy asks, nudging his shoulder onto mine briefly. 

He means well. I know he has good intentions, but the question hurts. In what world would I be okay?

Shrugging, I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “Not really.” 

I don’t have it in myself to act strong or lie. My heart feels like dead weight in my chest, a numb void that makes everything feel so empty. It’s dark outside, but even the slight vibrance doesn’t seem to look the same anymore. Everything is dull. 

The louder the wind gets, the harder it gets as I try to blink back the heavy tears resting on my waterline. I’ve already cried so much. My eyes feel sore. 

“Haven’t been sleeping good, have you?” he asks. 

I shake my head, sighing as I let out a dry huff. “No, not really. I mean…it’s hard…sleeping…” I trial off, my face furrowing with frustration as I hold back depression words. 

It’s hard sleeping because it doesn’t feel safe—especially alone. All I’ve wanted is to feel secure. I know Chris brings that feeling of safety, but he hasn’t even hinted at wanting me to stay in his bed—he’s barely even had us hang out in his room. 

He wants me, he loves me, and he’s there for me—but there’s something holding him back—something making him pull away. I can’t tell what it is. 

My body is impossibly stiff. The warmth of Jimmy’s hand lands on my shoulders, a heavy breath pushing through his lips as I feel something in the pit of my gut start to vibrate with anxiety.

“It…it’s—’s too much,” I cry, a sharp gasp echoing through the air before I feel Jimmy pull me into his arms, petting my head as he lets me cry into his chest. 

I cover my face with my hands, letting him hold me while trying to suck in enough air to feel satisfied. It doesn’t work—not anymore. 

No amount of deep breaths or fresh air would ever heal this feeling. I’m not sure anything would ever make me feel better. It hurts to admit, but it’s true. 

“I know, kid, I know,” he puffs, holding me tighter, his hand cradling the back of my head. 

My shaky breaths calm into tired sighs. I pull away, rubbing my face aggressively as I feel him rub my shoulder reassuringly. It doesn’t ache as much when I’m around someone. At least I don’t have to feel as alone with someone being there. 

“What can I do to help?”

Jimmy’s question lingers in the air like fog. I open my mouth to respond, but my throat closes in on itself. I have no answer. Not one that could possibly make sense.

I hear the porch door creak open. My head doesn’t lift, but Jimmy’s gaze shifts over my shoulder.

There’s a pause, a breath of silence that weighs heavier than the conversation that came before it.

“Hey,” Chris says quietly.

His voice is soft, cautious. I blink, still staring forward, my fingers twitching at the sound.

Jimmy shifts, his hand giving my shoulder one last squeeze before he stands. “I’ll give you two a minute,” he murmurs, and then his footsteps retreat into the house, the door clicking gently behind him.

Chris doesn’t sit right away. I can feel him hovering, unsure.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he finally says, stepping closer. “Then I noticed you weren’t in the guest room, so I checked outside.”

I don’t say anything, but I tilt my head to glance at him. He’s wearing a hoodie, the strings loosely dangling, hands stuffed into the front pocket. His eyes are glued to the wooden planks beneath our feet.

“I saw you with my dad,” he adds. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”

“I don’t mind,” I whisper.

He looks up at that. His eyes soften, flickering with something deep and sad. “Can I… walk you back in?”

I nod. He offers a hand and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. We don’t talk as we go inside. The house is dim and still, and everything feels too loud even when it’s silent.

He leads me down the hallway, and instead of stopping at the guest room, he walks past it and opens the door to his own.

I hesitate in the doorway.

He turns, noticing, and rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh… I haven’t asked you to sleep in here lately,” he begins, his voice low. “Not because I didn’t want to. I did—I do.”

I stare at him, my hands fidgeting at my sides.

Chris takes a breath and steps a little closer. “I didn’t want to do anything that might…well, trigger you. After everything, I thought maybe giving you space was safer. But I should’ve asked. I should’ve talked to you about it instead of pulling away.”

My chest tightens. I feel the sting of tears again, but this time it’s different. Not angry, not despairing—just full.

“I understand why you thought that,” I say. “But I don’t need space from you. I need you. You’re…you’re the only place I feel okay right now, Chris. And I know—I know that’s a lot, but…” I trail off, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.

Chris doesn’t wait for me to finish. He steps forward and wraps his arms around me, pulling me into the kind of hug that says everything words can’t.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers into my hair. “You don’t ever have to explain needing me. I’m yours. However you need me.”

I sink into him, burying my face into his chest. I feel his lips press gently to the crown of my head before he walks me toward the bed, pulling the blankets back.

We climb in together, and it’s the first time in days that I feel like I can really breathe.

His arm circles my waist, my back against his chest, and I feel the slow rise and fall of his breathing as it steadies mine.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

I nod, eyes fluttering closed, his voice like a blanket wrapped around my shivering bones.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself fall asleep without any lingering fear. Any and all worries fade as I sink into the overwhelming comfort of his arms cradling me against him. 

I’m hurt—beyond words, beyond tears, and beyond anything imaginable. The feelings in my chest are indescribably painful. It’s like my heart is pulsing in an overbearing way. 

In his arms, it doesn’t feel as intense or intimidating. The familiar pulse against my chest feels like an ache of healing. 

It feels safe to just feel. 

[shdysders]

supposed to hate you

pairing: tara carpenter & female reader

summary: in which tara can’t stand you—or at least, that’s what she keeps telling herself as her feelings start to betray her.

word count: 4.2k

Tara hated you.

She always had, though she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. There was no big moment, no obvious reason, just an unshakable irritation that bubbled up whenever you were near.

It was the way you'd slide into a room like you owned it, or that casual grin you wore like it was a personal insult to her bad day.

And, God, did it get under her skin when you'd laugh too loudly, making yourself the center of attention without even trying.

It was as if everything you did was meant to grate on her, whether it was intentional or not.

Even the smallest things—like how you'd hum under your breath or that habit of fidgeting with anything in reach—felt like they were tailored to press every one of her buttons.

And you knew she hated you.

Somehow, Tara was sure you’d caught on long ago, because why else would you keep doing all those little things that drove her up the wall?

The smug smile whenever she entered the room, the way you’d throw playful jabs at her to get a rise out of her, or that habit of smirking at her determination as if it were a joke.

She could swear you were doing it all on purpose.

But somehow, despite all this, the two of you had ended up in the same friend group, circling each other with forced politeness for everyone else's sake. And for some reason, none of them understood the tension between you and Tara.

Yet the two of you never seemed to have a normal conversation; every exchange was a battleground of snarky comebacks and teasing remarks.

You had this way of throwing her little digs back at her, always one step ahead with some sly remark that kept the tension alive. It was like you'd both accepted that bickering was your default, each ready with a retort before the other had even finished talking.

What made it worse was that, for some reason, the rest of the group found your dynamic entertaining.

Mindy, especially, seemed convinced that Tara's irritation ran so deep because, deep down, the two of you were practically the same.

She'd even pointed out once that, with your stubbornness, quick wit, and constant arguments, you were basically Tara's double. But that idea only made Tara's anger simmer hotter.

The thought that anyone could see her in you was something she refused to accept, and it left her even more determined to despise you.

And it was no different now, as Tara sat in the middle of her English class, which was already dragging when the second bell rang.

Mrs. Jenkins was already droning on at the front of the room, her slow voice making it impossible to keep focused.

Mrs. Jenkins was the type of teacher whose voice could lull anyone to sleep within minutes—a slow, monotone drawl that somehow never wavered, no matter the subject.

She was a small, wiry woman with glasses perched precariously at the tip of her nose, always casting a critical gaze over the top of them as if searching for the next pair of students to corral into cooperation.

Tara usually found herself fighting to keep her eyes open, pinching her wrist to keep her focus whenever Mrs. Jenkins launched into another long-winded explanation.

Mrs. Jenkins was also notorious for her obsession with partner projects. For some reason, she'd decided that her students could never be trusted to work alone, and she always seemed to pair people up in the worst possible combinations.

Almost like she thought throwing everyone into random pairs would somehow force them into cooperation or something.

Tara was just settling in, halfway through mindlessly tapping her pen against her notebook, when you pushed open the door.

You strolled in, two minutes late, looking completely unfazed, like walking in after the bell was some kind of statement.

Just seeing you made her want to roll her eyes.

Her eyes drifted to the empty seats around the room, her stomach sinking as she realized the only free one left was right next to her. She clenched her jaw.

Of course that would happen.

Of course Anika had to stay home with the flu. And of course Tara couldn't help but blame nobody but Annika for her luck, not Mrs. Jenkins for not separating the seats.

You looked around, smirked when your gaze landed on her, and started making your way over. She braced herself, already annoyed as you dropped into the seat with a casual grin that somehow felt like it was just for her.

She shot you a look, voice low but sharp enough to make her irritation clear.

"Do you ever show up on time?"

You shot her a sideways grin, unfazed. "Wouldn't want you getting bored without me."

And there it was again—the familiar spark of irritation, mixed with something else she didn't care to admit.

She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed.

"Trust me," she shot back, arching an eyebrow with a cool stare that could cut glass. "You're not that interesting." Her voice had that hard edge to it, her words clipped as if she hoped each one would hit its mark.

She felt a flicker of satisfaction at her retort, a sense of determination to get the last word in—just once.

But even as the words left her lips, she knew how this would end. She never got the last word with you; somehow, you always had a comeback ready, some sly remark that kept her on edge, just a half-step behind.

It was infuriating, knowing you'd already won this exchange before she'd even finished talking, and yet, she couldn't seem to stop herself from trying.

So of course, her comeback only made you chuckle softly. You tilted your head, still studying her with that amused glint in your eyes. "You seem to be paying me a lot of attention for someone who's supposedly not interested."

Tara clenched her jaw, already thinking up a response, but before she could say anything, Mrs. Jenkins cleared her throat at the front of the room, pulling everyone's attention.

She held a stack of papers, her voice filling the room as she announced, "Alright, everyone. Today, we're starting partner projects," she announced, eyeing the class as she held up a stack of papers.

"You'll be working in pairs, and since we're short a few people"—her gaze swept over to you and Tara.

And, of course, with Annika out and no one else nearby, it was clear who Tara's partner would be.

"The two of you can work together." She gestured loosely at the two of you with her whole hand, her glasses slipping to the tip of her nose as if she was sealing your fate herself.

Tara's stomach twisted. Just her luck.

Out of all the people in the class, she had to be stuck with you. She could already feel the annoyance creeping up, the certainty that this project would be anything but smooth.

Being around you always felt like walking a tightrope—every word, every look somehow irked her in a way she couldn't quite explain.

She let out a quiet sigh, bracing herself for the inevitable back-and-forth she knew would come with working together.

Mrs. Jenkins continued pairing the rest of the class, her voice droning on as she named off each group.

You seemed to watch each pairing, eyes following her hand as she pointed out partners as if every decision mattered. Of course you were paying attention to all of it, Tara thought, irritated. That was just like you.

Not that she cared who anyone else ended up with. Because right now, all her energy was spent swallowing down the frustration of being paired with you, knowing she was in for a long, drawn-out project full of the exact same tension you'd just exchanged.

Mrs. Jenkins, satisfied with her pairings, stepped back up to the front of the class. She cleared her throat, waiting for the murmur of voices to die down, before adjusting her glasses and lifting the stack of papers in her hand.

She started explaining the assignment, something about analyzing a passage from a novel they'd been studying, breaking it down in pairs to present next week.

Tara tried to focus on the instructions, but she was painfully aware of your presence beside her, the faint tapping of your pen on the desk as you listened with that half-smile still lingering on your face.

She could feel you glancing her way, as if you knew how much this was getting under her skin, and it only made her determination to prove you wrong even stronger.

Once Mrs. Jenkins finished talking and handed out the assignment sheets, she walked around, checking in with pairs as they began discussing the project.

Tara looked over at you, already preparing herself for the inevitable back-and-forth she knew was coming, her expression set.

"Do you even remember what novel we're supposed to be working with?" she asked, her voice edged with irritation.

You leaned back in your chair, folding your arms with that familiar look of feigned concentration. "Oh, yeah. The Great Gatsby, right?"

She stared at you, her fingers tightening around the edge of her notebook. Just when she thought you couldn't be more infuriating, here you were, throwing out the wrong title like it was nothing.

How could anyone be this clueless?

But before she could bite back, you let out a soft, breathy laugh, that glint of amusement flashing in your eyes. "Relax, I'm kidding. It's Wuthering Heights."

Her jaw clenched, annoyance sharpening into something colder as she shook her head. "Right," she muttered, her tone dry. "Because it would kill you to just answer like a normal person."

You tapped your fingers idly on the desk, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Alright, so how are we splitting this? Or should I just sit here while you write the entire thing and glare at me for breathing too loud?"

Tara shot you a look, eyes narrowing. "Oh, don't worry, I'm sure I'll be doing all the work anyway," she snapped, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

Your smirk widened as you put your hands up in mock surrender, leaning back in your chair. "Well, if you're insisting on it, I really can't stop you."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, words caught in her throat as she considered snapping back.

But before she could come up with something biting enough, you tilted your head, dropping the playful tone just slightly. "So, realistically, whose place are we doing this at?"

The question made Tara's irritation deepen into something heavier. The idea of having to work on this project outside of class with you felt exhausting.

But you both knew very well that Mrs. Jenkins' lessons were always cut short by the schedule, leaving too little time to actually make progress in class.

Tara already dreaded the awkwardness and frustration of dealing with you here; the thought of it extending into her free time was worse.

Bringing you to her house was out of the question. Sam would almost definitely be home, and knowing Sam, she'd make a point of chatting with you. It was infuriating that Sam didn't seem to share her distaste for you.

But going to your house? Tara's mind reeled for a logical excuse—something about it felt even less appealing.

Without looking up from her notebook as she jotted down a few notes to avoid meeting your eyes, she muttered, "I was thinking the library, if you've ever set foot in one of those."

You chuckled softly, that amused glint back in your eyes. "I didn't know you cared about my literacy so much. But sure, the library works."

You paused for a moment, leaning a bit closer. "You free after school, or is that the time you reserve for taking that stick out of your ass?"

Tara's jaw clenched, eyes snapping up to meet yours, her pencil threatening to snap under the pressure of her grip. You'd agreed, sure, but you'd managed to infuriate her all the same.

"After school's fine," she said flatly, before turning her attention pointedly back to her notes, wishing the bell would ring already.

Fortunately for Tara, it did, just minutes later, the sharp clang cutting through the tension that had coiled around her like a vice.

It seemed to be the only stroke of luck she could count on for the week, at least.

As soon as the sound echoed through the room, Tara was up, shoving her notebook into her bag with quick, agitated movements. She didn't waste a second, her movements brisk as she ignored your casual, "See you later," tossed her way.

Without waiting for anyone or pausing to catch her breath, she pushed her way through the bustling hallway, weaving between groups of students and dodging backpacks that jutted out into her path.

The sooner she was away from you, the better.

When she reached a spot far away from everyone, she exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and yanked her phone out of her pocket, still walking. Her fingers flew over the screen as she typed:

guess who i'm stuck working with for the english project?

The response came almost immediately, as if Mindy had been waiting for some kind of drama to break out.

Spill.

Before Tara could type a response, her phone buzzed again with a string of messages from Mindy.

Bryan who always falls asleep in history?

Loud chewing Hannah?

Victor?!

Tara let out a breathy laugh despite herself, rolling her eyes at the rapid-fire guesses. Mindy's knack for dramatics never failed to pull her out of her own frustration, even if just for a moment.

She was about to tap out a reply when she spotted Mindy leaning against her locker, arms crossed and a curious look already on her face.

"Finally," Mindy said as if she hasn't been waiting for no longer than two minutes, pushing off the locker with a grin. "So, who's the lucky partner?"

Tara snapped her phone screen off and glanced over, still holding onto her irritation. "You won't believe it," she muttered, janking her own locker open with more force than necessary.

Mindy's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oh! Don't tell me it's Brian from algebra—you know, the one who still counts on his fingers."

Tara's lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk, but she quickly suppressed it. "Worse."

Mindy leaned in, eyebrows raised. "Worse than Brian?" She tilted her head, rattling off another guess. "Please don't say it's Becca from gym class, the one who makes breathing into a competition."

Tara let out a humorless laugh. "No, but I'd take Becca over this."

Mindy's grin faltered as she studied Tara's expression. Realization dawned on her face, and she gasped dramatically. "Wait, no. Y/N?"

Tara's silence was answer enough.

Mindy's mouth dropped open before she broke into a chuckle. "What, did Mrs. Jenkins draw names out of a hat and decide to create chaos?"

Tara groaned, closing her eyes for a second. "Feels like it."

Mindy nudged her shoulder playfully. "Hey, maybe this is your chance to finally work out whatever weird tension is between you two."

Tara's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel. "Don't. Even."

Mindy laughed, raising her hands in surrender but couldn't help adding, "Come on, Tara. It's like fate's way of telling you to loosen up. Maybe you need a challenge."

Tara shook her head, slamming her locker shut and pushing past Mindy, muttering, "The last thing I need is Y/N's smug face outside of class."

Mindy's voice followed her as she walked away. "Or maybe it's exactly what you need!"

"No," Tara muttered, shoving a stray book into her bag with unnecessary force. "And I don't want to."

Mindy leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "This is your chance. Come on, Tara, look at you—you need to ease up. You need a good—"

"Stop," Tara interrupted, the flush on her cheeks deepening as she scowled. "Don't even go there."

Mindy's grin only widened, unfazed by Tara's glare. "A good fuck," she finished, drawing out the words with a teasing lilt.

Tara's eyes widened in shock, the blush on her cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson. "Mindy!" she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else had overheard. The hallway was busy, students rushing to their next classes, but Tara still felt exposed.

The comment sent a wave of nausea through her as well. "Are you out of your mind? That's not even funny," she shot back, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment and anger.

Mindy just laughed, the sound light and carefree. "What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking," she said with a casual shrug. "You've been wound up tighter than a drum, and now you're paired up with the one person who gets under your skin the most. Tell me that isn't some cosmic joke."

Tara rolled her eyes, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder. "It's not a joke. It's a nightmare," she muttered, but her voice lacked its usual bite.

Mindy reached out, stopping Tara just before she could turn away. "Hey, just... think about it," she said, her tone softening for a moment. "Maybe it won't be as bad as you're expecting."

Tara pulled her arm away, shaking her head as she started walking again. "It'll be worse," she whispered to herself, willing her heartbeat to slow down as she disappeared into the crowd.

___

It wasn’t worse.

Despite Tara's initial dread, working with you at the library hadn't been as unbearable as she'd anticipated.

Sure, there were moments where your casual confidence and the way you smirked at her when making a point still made her grit her teeth.

You'd tap your pen absentmindedly while explaining your ideas, a habit she found irritatingly distracting. And then there was the way you'd throw in a playful jab every now and then, your eyes glinting with amusement when she huffed in response.

But, to Tara's reluctant surprise, you were sharp, insightful even, when it came to analyzing.

The discussion had gone more smoothly than she'd expected, with ideas bouncing back and forth faster than she'd thought possible.

It struck her, in a fleeting moment she wasn't prepared for, that you weren't as infuriating now as you'd always seemed within the confines of the friend group.

You were still you, with your annoyingly self-assured manner and the smirk that made her want to roll her eyes, but it didn't seem so intolerable when it was just the two of you.

She had tried to shake off the thought, feeling a flicker of annoyance that she even had to acknowledge it.

But just as she had felt they were getting somewhere, her phone had buzzed in her pocket.

Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how she looked at it—Sam had been calling, the texts piling up with increasing urgency, wondering where Tara was and why she hadn't come home yet. Tara's stomach clenched as she skimmed through the messages, noting the slight panic in Sam's words.

Realizing she couldn't ignore it any longer, she had packed up her things, muttering that you'd have to finish another time.

You didn't seem bothered, giving her a nod and a quick, teasing smile that left her more annoyed than she cared to admit as she left the library.

When she had gotten home that night, sleep eluded her. She had tossed and turned, frustration simmering just beneath the surface as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Thoughts of your discussions swirled in her mind, mingling with that annoying realization that you weren't as insufferable as she had always believed.

Over the following week, she had found herself paying more attention to you than she intended to. It wasn't like she had tried to; it just happened.

You were there, cracking jokes during lunch, your laugh ringing out louder than anyone else's, and Tara caught herself stealing glances when you were busy chatting with the rest of the group.

Even when you weren't around, she found herself thinking about you, which irked her more than she cared to admit.

It was infuriating how often you popped into her head, making her wonder what you would say in any given situation, or how you would tease her if you were there.

Tara gritted her teeth at the thought, refusing to admit how much it bothered her that she couldn't stop.

She hated that you had gotten under her skin, and she wasn't sure what it meant. All she knew was that it felt wrong to be so intrigued by you, and yet, here she was, wondering what you were doing, if you were thinking about her too.

It was confusing. Annoying, even. Tara hated the fact that she couldn't stop thinking about you lately.

But the more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more they seemed to cling to her. It wasn't just that you were smart-mouthed and quick-witted, though those things had always gotten under her skin.

No, it was something else—things she hadn't noticed before, or maybe things she had noticed but refused to acknowledge.

The way you smiled when you thought no one was looking.

Tara had started to notice that your smiles were different when you weren't throwing one of your usual smirks in her direction. When you smiled genuinely—like when you were talking to your friends or when you thought something was genuinely funny—it was softer, almost shy, and it made her stomach do this stupid little flip.

She hated that she even noticed it, but she couldn't help it. That smile wasn't something you gave to just anyone, and that realization made her heart race in a way she wasn't ready to confront.

And that damn smirk.

Tara couldn't get it out of her head.

There was something about it that drove her crazy, and not in the way she wanted to admit. It was infuriating how much she wanted to wipe it off your face—literally, and, to her horror, in ways she'd never imagined before.

She caught herself staring at your lips sometimes as well, wondering what it would be like to just lean in and kiss you, to catch you off guard and see that cocky expression falter.

The thought made her stomach churn with a mix of desire and disgust. What was wrong with her? Since when did she think about kissing you, of all people?

Why was this happening? Why couldn't she just hate you like she used to?

She'd always been good at handling her emotions, keeping them locked up tight where they couldn't hurt her.

But lately, whenever you were around, that control started to slip. It was like you'd found a way under her skin, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get you out.

She hated it. Hated how her heart raced whenever you smirked at her, how her stomach twisted with something that wasn't quite anger anymore.

She'd never felt this way before—this mix of anger and attraction that left her feeling off-balance, like she was constantly walking a tightrope. It was ridiculous, disgusting even, how much she let it affect her.

You were supposed to be her rival, her annoyance, the person she loved to hate. And yet, here she was, her thoughts consumed with you in ways that made her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

She was supposed to hate you, not fantasize about something so ridiculous. But the more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more they lingered, haunting her even when you weren't around.

It was like she was losing herself, becoming someone she didn't recognize. How could she be so weak, so pathetic, to let these feelings take over?

The thought of you seeing her like this, vulnerable and conflicted, made her sick to her stomach. You'd probably just laugh at her, throw some snarky remark her way that would make her feel even smaller than she already did.

She needed to get a grip. This was just some stupid, fleeting attraction, nothing more.

It had to be.

She refused to believe that she actually liked you, that she wanted something more than just the back-and-forth banter that had defined your relationship.

Because if she admitted that, if she acknowledged the truth, it would change everything.

And that scared her more than anything.

So she did what she always did—pushed those thoughts down, buried them deep where they couldn't hurt her.

She'd pretend that nothing was different, that she didn't feel her pulse quicken whenever you walked into the room, that she didn't think about your stupid smirk when she was alone at night.

It was easier that way. Safer.

But deep down, she knew she was just lying to herself. And as much as she hated it, those feelings weren't going away. They were only getting stronger, no matter how hard she fought against them. And that terrified her more than anything.

Because she was supposed to hate you.

[lhswon]

CRAZY TIPS = CRAZY FEELINGS { l.hs }

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: wherein, heeseung is a player, a fuck boy, and a rich one too which is all what y/n hates about a man. y/n in contrast is a broke college student who barely makes a living to pay up her rent and college tuition. despite years of being in the same university as heeseung, they never had any interactions until the day heeseung finally laid his eyes on y/n who works on the counter at some nightclub and started leaving her with some crazy cash tips.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: yandere!lee heeseung x tsundere!fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: non!idol, enemies (one sided) to lovers troupe, kinda slow burn, teeth-rotting fluff, heeseung is a softie, you and enha are in the same age for the sake of the plot

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: lots cursing, suggestive scenes (mdni!), fighting, drinking, smoking, mention of substances, family issues, mention of SA, display of dominance and possessiveness, heeseung is always jealous (lmk if i missed any!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙘: unknown (as of now :D)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: whoop whoop. wrote this au the moment i saw that video of hee drinking whiskey in a party :D man he was HOT i couldn't stop myself from making this. ALSO BIG NOTE, none of this reflect the idols mentioned in real life. this is only a FICTION and for entertainment purposes only.

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

the loud music and people's chaotic cheering and murmuring were the ones that welcomed heeseung and his friends, along with the mixed smell of alcohol, perfumes, and smoke from cigarettes. it was already 2:00 am but it seemed a bit more early for the people inside the club, the energy was just insane.

as they walked to find their own spot, heeseung constantly sees people making out on the spot which made him smirk a bit. his initial plan was to find someone to hook up with tonight. it was their midterm interlude after all, he needed to relax and he wanted to start by hooking up.

"i'll order us some drinks, what do you guys want?" jake remained standing while the rest of them sat at the circular couch.

"i want just want some rum." sunghoon said. jay said he wanted the same thing.

"sunoo hyung and i will just have some whiskey." jungwon followed, raising his left hand up and pointed to sunoo next to him.

"what about you, seung?" jake asked.

"just get me some scotch, please and thank you." heeseung said and jake nodded before leaving.

while jay and sunghoon was talking something about their academics, sunoo and jungwon was just chatting why their youngest, niki, recently failed his long test and have to go through intensive tutoring as of the moment.

heeseung on the other hand wandered his eyes around and when he catched a glimpse of jake on the counter, he followed him using his eyes and his breathing hitched when he saw your angelic face giving small smiles to jake as he leans in to tease you.

"come on, do you really have to work tonight? i can pay your manager so he would let you drink with me." the man in front of you insisted. you subtly gave him a 'are-you-fucking-serious' look before brushing his statement off with an awkward chuckle.

"i'm sorry sir, but we are currently short on staffs so everyone needs to play their parts." you gave him a small smile before handing him the bottles he ordered.

"oh come on, don't call me sir. don't act like you do not go to the same university as me." jake chuckled sexily which made you secretly scoff.

you have to admit, jake is attractive, hot even, but he's just way out of your league. he's hot, he's rich, he's an academic achiever, and lives almost a perfect life, plus he's a play boy which is a big no no for you. he's just everything you hate about men.

"i can't jake, i have to work. now, please do get off the counter, i have other customers to serve other than you." you said bravely and gave him a fake smile which made jake smirk. your feisty attitude just turns him on.

after successfully shooing away jake sim, you suddenly felt eyes watching you. you wandered your eyes around and you choked on air when you realize that the pair of eyes watching, and staring at you darkly was heeseung's. one of your schoolmate and friend of jake.

the way heeseung stared at you darkly made you panic. his piercing eyes never leaving you even before you saw jake put down the drinks they ordered. you're like a prey, recognized by the predator. he only diverted his gaze when jake called him, handing him his drink. you too, were nudged by your co-worker.

"you okay?" red asked. she's your co-worker, also your work buddy. you nodded and cleared your throat.

"if you're tired already, you should rest. you're about to end your shift anyways." she suggested while you nodded.

you chatted with her a bit before going to the staff room to change, get your things, and time yourself out from work. the moment you exited the club using the back door, you immediately hugged yourself due to cold. you could see the smoke coming out of your mouth as you breathe. not even the padded jackets could easily warm you up in this cold weather.

you walked through the parking lot to find your second-hand car when you saw two shadow beside your car, making out. it made you mentally scoff, out of all places, why beside yours?

it was cold and already late, you have no choice but to walk towards your car. as you finally get close to the scene, you yet again saw those familiar piercing eyes from heeseung when he watched over you while still kissing the girl in front of him. since the girl was leaning on your car, you couldn't really go without her getting off first so you coughed awkwardly.

"oh, sorry!" the girl squeeled.

finally, they stopped kissing and the girl giggled, as if she's happy that someone had just caught her making out in the parking lot. heeseung on the other hand stayed silent and watched over you intently.

"i'm sorry." you said politely as you bowed your head before moving to open the door of your car. you were about to head inside when you heard the girl murmured something.

"this car is trash, right hee?"

your eyes twitched from what the girl said. slowly, you turned to her with a small smile.

"well look who's talking, you'll just be as dirty as a trash when this man throws you away like a garbage after using you." you said before getting inside your car and starts your engine.

the girl was shocked while heeseung smirked at your attitude. without knowing, you just picked heeseung's interest, and it was the on switch for his yandere era to begin.

check out the chapter 1 here

[he115er]

Nice tits

Literally just the dreamies holding/touching your tits :)

MDNI!! , tit holding, nipple play, kissing, teasing?, proof read, uhm might've forgotten something.

Mark Wc:227

He is the type to mindlessly play with your tits. You're both laying on the couch cuddled up to each other. In your most comfortable clothes, he has an arm over your shoulder while the other holds his phone. He's scrolling mindlessly trying to fill his mind of something as ads roll. The hand by your shoulder slowly slips into your sweater by the collar and immediately finds your soft nipple his cold hands making it harden.

You look at him to see if he's doing it on purpose but to your surprise , he's still mindlessly scrolling. He takes the nub between his fingers and starts lightly tweaking it. You sigh at the feeling, he's done this so much he doesn't even have to think about it.

You put your hand atop his to get his attention and he looks at you confused. He looks down at where his hand is and then at you and gives you an apologetic smile going to move his hand "I didn't tell you to stop" you mutter as you move in closer to him.

A boyish smile plasters across his face as you climb on his lap and start kissing his neck. "Would've done this ages ago if I knew you'd act like this". You don't think of protesting to his statement, instead you shut him up by kissing him.

─────────────────────────────────

Renjun Wc:173

When I tell you he knows you like his hands. He'll take any opportunity to say that. Puts his hand on your thigh and lightly squeezes while he's talking to a friend.

But his favorite activity so far is pulling your shirt up and holding your tits, you'll look down to see his hands and then to him and he'll just smile "thought they needed a holder" he says as he playfully pushes them up. Your nipples between his forefinger and middle finger, he pinches at them before moving to using this thumb to circle the now hard buds "and you said you loved my hands" he whispers in your ear "you can watch them as I play with your tits" he whispers as he kisses just below your earlobe.

Whatever you were doing is forgotten as you lean into his touch. You put your hands on his forearms as he continues go play with your tits. He lightly tugs at the buds watching your face for every reaction as he does so.

────────────────────────────────

Jeno Wc:170

Face first into them. He'll come back from the gym and just needs to recharge. He'll drop his bag and crawl on top of you, lifting your shirt up making you giggle as his soft and damp hair tickles your skin. He knows you don't wear a bra while at home so all he needs to do is lay down.

And lay he does, his weight on you like a weighted blanket, his considerably hotter body warming you up. Any protest of him being too warm, too heavy, or stinky fall to deaf ears, he knows you love this about him. He's heard one too many times, of you talking to your friends about it when you think he's asleep.

If you start complaining a little too much though he'll sneak one of his hands up to your tit and gently massage it also lifting his head up so he can take your nipple into his mouth. Instantly your words get caught in your throat at his actions as he rolls the hardening bub between his lips. It's muscle memory at this point, he doesn't need to put much thought into remembering what you like.

He lightly sucks at the bud rolling his tongue along the tip. He release it with a wet pop as he moves his head go to the other resuming the same actions. You put your hand on top of patting it gently "okay-o-kay i-i get it I'll shut up" you say in defeat and he pauses his actions "but please don't stop" you mumble. He smiles and continues pulling you almost impossibly close to him.

────────────────────────────────

Heachan Wc:238

Omg gamer alert. He loves playing games but he also loves watching you play games, any kind of game as long as you're passionate about it. Just the intensity of your concentration. You're so in tune that you didn't notice him sneaking up behind you, or when his hands slid under your shirt to grope your breasts.

You only really take notice when he tells you to use a specific item. Now the warmth on your chest makes sense. But you don't bother to say anything "it's extra support" he says as he excuses now playing with your nipples as he watches you play. "Heachan you're distracting me" you protest as you slightly curl into yourself. God if only he didn't know they were so sensitive.

He smirks "oh,don't mind me" he says as he continues now also kissing along your neck. He completely understands why you distract him from his game a whole lot now. A moan slips past your lips as he starts to suck a new hickey onto your neck. You quickly hit pause on your game and try your best to pull him closer to you.

"Fu-fuck this" you mumble as you pull him into a kiss which he gladly accepts. He leans over your chair pushing you deeper into it. Oh now he gets it, the power he feels just from doing this, he could get used to doing this more often.

────────────────────────────────

Jeamin Wc:203

Loves watching you dress. Especially when you're still half asleep. The first thing you put on is a some pants. Then you walk around looking for your bra. And when you find it, you waddle on over to him for help. Tho it's not his favorite thing in the world "aw cmon let your tits outs" he'd protest but he does enjoy helping you put the clasps on if you're struggling. He gets to sneakily hold you tits saying he's adjusting the cups.

He also enjoys seeing your shirt bunched up at the top as you try to remember where you left your deodorant. He always comes up behind you and slides one of his hands under the cup of your bra as he reaches up to where it is, he always miss places it so he has the chance to. He squishes at the soft flesh as he leans down to kiss your cheek "you always forget where you put it~" he teases as he puts the deodorant in your hands.

It seems now's the time to forget about getting dressed as you turn your head to capture your lips in his, you don't miss the little smirk as you do so.

────────────────────────────────

Chenle Wc:270

Domestic moment! Doesn't usually do it out of the blue, but seeing you doing some menial task like washing the dishes, making your self a snack, standing in the kitchen while he's in there, just doing anything in the kitchen. It fills him with the urge of being close to you. Skin to skin. But he can't since he doesn't want to disturb you.

So he settles for sliding his hands under your shirt, resting his hands on your bare hips and playing with the waistband of your shorts. "Lele what are you doing? " you ask with a slight giggle as he taps his fingers. "Can't I touch the love of my life? " he asks as he lightly squeezes at your hips.

You shake your head "I know what you're doing" you say in faux annoyance. Even if he doesn't do it often you know his ulterior motives. He feigns ignorance as he slides his hands up your hips to your waist "I have no idea what you're talking about". He says smile clear in his voice. His hands keep on wandering until they're at your ribcage just below the swell of your breast.

"Chenle" you say in a warning tone, but just as you utter his name he does the opposite. He easily pushes up your bra and replaces it by cupping your breasts. He smiles to himself as you sigh in defeat. He lays his head on your shoulder to look at what you're doing "whatcha doing anyways? " he innocently asks looking at your hands that are frozen in place as he starts to toy with your nipples.

────────────────────────────────

Jisung Wc:196

He shyly slides his hands up to your chest. They were already there hugging your waist as you sit in his lap. He can't remember exactly why you're there but now he just has to hold them in his hands. They inch up slowly watching for any hesitation.

But to his suprise you just move his hands to your tits yourself, a surprised gasp leaving his lips as you do so. He hides his face in the crook of your neck slightly embarrassed by your boldness. But that doesn't mean he'll stop. You just gave him permission why would he stop now?

His hands automatically cup your breasts lightly squeezing at the flesh as he gently rolls his fingers over it. He loves the small reactions you give him despite being immersed in your own thing. The small gasp you let out as his pointer finger pushes on your nipple and then rolls over it. Or the way you stifle a moan as he starts kissing at your neck both of his hands now gently playing with your tits. He's all too observant of every reaction even when you slightly shift and lean back against him.

────────────────────────────────

[satorurize]

❝𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐠𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫!❞

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Plot: An argument over a remote control surely couldn't turn into hot sex right?

Minors and Ageless blogs DNI.

Content and Warnings : 18+, MDNI, female reader smut, fluff, crack?, make up sex, cockwarming, mating press, creampie, clit play, satoru and reader are not married but he is a bit delulu, satoru is annoying (but so loveable), big dick satoru, passionate satoru. English is not my first language pls be nice

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network 💗

Satoru will never miss an opportunity to be the egotistical prince he is, and he'll take that gaping chance to tease you so pompously, that you wouldn't mind slapping his stupidly handsome face with his stupidly handsome dimpled grin if it weren't for him fucking you so rauchily after a heated argument. He'll make sure to purposely thrust into you painstakingly slow, it was almost like not moving at all. It didn't help that he was still as a lake inside you from the past few hours.

"Impatient enough?" He knew he was easy on the eyes and how hard it made for you to resist and remain with your ego after a fight, especially when he worshipped you even with his mocking words.

"Satoru..fucking move already—" You arch your back, moving yourself on his still cock, desperate and needy, feeling his each vein ridging against your warm, cloy, walls.

"Aw..too much for you? Mh..? Your sweet pussy just clenches harder when I do this.." He cockily speaks, hovering over you, his big strong arms propped onto the mattress, getting a good view of your pussy stuffed full of his lengthy cock and your tits—, his tits spilled out for him.

The rapid flicking of your swollen clit with his index and middle finger makes you reach out your hand to slap his away, the metalic taste of blood hit your taste buds, the bite on your lower lip stopped you to almost push aside your pride and say that you wanted it harder. But you didn't, your body did, feeling the ecstatic pinch of a building orgasm.

He lets out a throaty, enraptured laugh when you raise your hand to slap his away, the desperateness and your duclet sighs not amiss by him. What were you two fighting about again? Satoru would prefer being a dead man if he had to pick between leaving you to sulk after an argument and dying.

He hummed deeply, immediately grasping your wrists to pin them down to the either sides of your head, his sheer strength holding you down. He leaned in, grazing his lips against yours but not quite kissing you, depriving you of that doting intimacy because he wanted you to suffer a bit more. How dare you try to break up with him? Again a hyperbole in Satoru's mind. It was something very measly in reality and you weren't gonna break up with him.

"Just say it baby..just say you want me to fuck you harder..make love to you, tell me how much you love me..come on sweets.."

"Shut up.. you're so annoying.." You spat but your body was a pure antithesis to that statement when you grinded yourself onto his cock.

"Really..? You beg all annoying people to fuck you baby..? I'm jealous" He pushed further, smirking, the mirth in his voice so clear.

"You-"

"Okay fine! I'll do my job! Don't be so difficult.." He tuted, now the one sulking like a child, though pretentiously as if he himself didn't want to give you a mauling fuck. He didn't care if he had to desperately apologise, you were just so cute to him when you were annoyed.

The next words died down in your throat and that acid in your tone was soon cut off and replaced with coarse, sweet moans, your pupils blown wide when he suddenly bucked up and moved his hips to hit is tip to the hilt with an anchoring grip on your waist. The hit was nothing but brute force, while his face was calm but hazed with lust, a sickening, consuming lust for you, his wife. Although you weren't married yet, in his head you already became Mrs. Gojo the moment he first laid with you.

"You know what? No. You shut up, I've had enough of your bullshit...you're not mad at me anymore..yeah..? You got that..?" He cooes to you not concerned about the gaslighting, in complete contrast to the way his cock was ruthlessly splitting your cunt apart, the sticky, stringy webby mess of your arousal and his pearly cum only made it easier for him fuck you like a fleshlight. The fused sounds of your synchronised moans filled the room with the creaking of the bed underneath.

"Oh.. yeah, just like that Toru..yeah..harder..I love you..m' so close.." You cling onto him, his words proving right as you could do nothing but dwindle down into the pleasurable mess he turned you into, you simply couldn't be mad at him for long. "See? Was that so difficult..? thaaat's it, fucking make a mess on your husband's cock..cum." The soft parting of your lips and the vice grip of your cunt made him almost roll his eyes back at your release.

Husband.

Your nails clawed the beefy mass of his arm, eyes in an outerwordly daze that made him fall for you even more if that was possible at all. Fuck. You were so beautiful to him, he'd make you angry and pound you like this like this all over again if it meant he got to see this visual again. He would never get used to it.

"Toru- mh..yeah.."

"Fuuuck..ha..I love you..M'sorry baby.." He slurred completely enamoured by you and heavenly cunt. Satoru felt his dick just twitch inside you when you told him you loved him, a spark buzzed through his head as if your declaration of love was the only salvation he needed, his confident voice now pleading and needy. He grunted, scooping up your legs from the calves to press your thighs to your chest, plunging into you in a mating press.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..fuuck! Fuck..!" He whimpered loudly, shamelessly while spelling out how he loved you, out so hopelessly. His hips gave in few sharp rams, burying himself deep with a single strong thrust, caulking you with his thick seed, his moans deep and guttural.

He didn't even bother pulling out, letting his weight be on top of yours snugly. He kissed you, with all tongue and teeth in languidity. The palpable tension in the room from earlier now replaced with the scent of sex, sweat, the gentle click sounds of lingering kisses. Satoru let out a deep huff, shifting his body next to yours with a plop on the bed before burying his face into your chest again, pressing damp kisses onto the swell of your breasts, exactly onto the spots where he marked you as his with pretty purple abrasions. His slender digits snaked down to spread apart your labia to watch his cum drop out of you. He always loved that debauched slight.

"If you being mad means I get to fuck you like this.. I'm getting you mad everyday.." He chuckled, blowing an air bubble on your skin. Idiot.

"Oh my god. I'm not fighting over the stupid remote again and stop calling yourself my husband—"

"Sorry for acting like that, it will happen again~" Ofcourse he had no remorse.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

m.list! ₊˚⊹ ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.