#and trying to do a little more practice w lighting and such!

[caitlinclarksbiceps]

Cling. Repeat.

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 : W! Sonia x W! Reader

𝗪𝗖 : 1.3k

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 : none

𝗔/𝗡 : It's a bit short since I only have limited idea for this and this is a part 2 of Hold me Down but lmk if you want me to do more sonia x reader and send me the ideas! I'm a bit rn so I'd be doing 2 stories each week! I'd still try my best to post more if I can. (Requested by 🏷️ @jupitermoonbaby )

PART 1

The soft morning light started creeping through the blinds, hitting your face in those little stripes that made everything look warmer than it actually felt. You blinked a few times, groggy, stretching out your arms when you noticed movement beside you on the couch bed.

There sat Sonia, hunched over like a grumpy little marshmallow, completely swallowed by her oversized hoodie. Her hood was pulled up so far it nearly covered her eyes, and her phone was clutched dramatically in both hands. The look on her face? Pure horror. Like someone had just told her her favorite sneakers were discontinued.

You squinted at her, still half-asleep, and let out a little snort. "Babe? Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost? Or… did the Mystics trade you to the Globetrotters overnight?" Your voice came out all scratchy with sleep, but your curiosity was awake now.

She didn’t even answer right away, just stared down at her phone, eyes wide like she was reading her own obituary.

You shuffled over, peeking at her screen, and there it was.

Your Instagram post from last night.

The picture practically radiated chaos. Sonia clinging to you like an overgrown koala, arms and legs wrapped around your body like she was practicing to be a backpack, her face buried in your neck with the most content little smile on her lips. It was soft, cute, absolutely illegal levels of clingy, and all over the internet now.

Your sleepy brain caught up a second later and you lost it, throwing your head back with laughter that bounced off the couch. You clutched your stomach, tears already prickling your eyes from how ridiculous she looked right now, still curled up like she was contemplating life choices.

She finally glanced your way, cheeks flushed pink. "This isn’t funny," she grumbled, but the dramatic way she tried to pull her hoodie even further over her face betrayed her. She looked like a little turtle trying to retreat into her shell.

You grinned wide, nudging her knee with yours. "It’s hilarious. You look adorable. The world deserves to witness your clingy koala form."

Sonia groaned, flopping back against the couch cushions with a defeated sigh. "I can never show my face in public again. This is it. My legacy is ruined. I’m the clingy girlfriend now."

You couldn’t stop laughing. "Please. You’ve been the clingy girlfriend. I’m just providing photographic evidence."

She shot you a betrayed look but couldn’t keep the smile off her face, even as she buried it in her hoodie again. "I swear, if anyone brings this up today…"

Spoiler alert, they did.

An hour later, you were home alone, scrolling through your phone as your notifications exploded. Likes, comments, memes, people were having an absolute field day with the koala content. To top it off, the official WNBA account reposted it with the caption, “Find someone who hugs you like Sonia hugs her girl” complete with heart emojis and laughing faces.

Your phone buzzed aggressively again. Sonia sent you a message.

This is your fault. I’m getting roasted alive over here.

You nearly dropped your phone laughing, already picturing her suffering in real-time.

Meanwhile, across the city at the team lunch, Sonia walked into the restaurant looking like her usual intimidating, tall, tough self — or, at least, she tried to.

“OH MY GOD, look out, it’s the emotional support koala!” Emily practically shouted, laughing and clapping her hands while pointing at sonia.

The entire table erupted into chaos, giggles, whistles, phones already snapping pictures of Sonia trying (and failing) to disappear under her hoodie.

Jade leaned in with a smirk. "Sooo… how’s life without your human tree? Feeling stable? Or do we need to get you one of those baby slings?"

Sonia groaned so loud it could’ve passed for a dramatic movie soundtrack, dragging her hand down her face. "I hate all of you."

Sykes tossed a bread roll at her playfully. "Bet she didn’t even let her girl breathe this morning. You probably had her in a sleeper hold, huh?"

"Shut up," Sonia mumbled, blushing so hard it made her ears red. She yanked her hoodie strings tighter, sinking into the fabric like she was about to evaporate.

She texted you again under the table.

"I’m deceased. They’re relentless. You’ve ruined me."

You grinned, typing back as fast as your fingers would let you.

"You’re iconic, babe. They’re just jealous. Not everyone has their own personal koala."

You hit send, still laughing to yourself, picturing her pouting behind her phone. You leaned back into the couch, heart full, ready for round two of teasing later when she came home, probably attached to you like a koala again.

By the time Sonia finally got home, it was almost evening. You heard the front door creak open and then slam shut with the kind of dramatic energy only someone completely done with the world carries.

You didn’t even have to look up from your phone to know it was her, you could practically feel the pout radiating through the walls.

“Before you say anything,” Sonia called from the door, “I’m still mad at you.”

You grinned, setting your phone down, pretending to be all innocent. “Oh no, what did I do? Expose your snuggle addiction to the world? Guilty.”

She appeared in the doorway, still in her hoodie, hair a little messy from the hood being up all day. She looked tired but also like she’d been trying not to smile the entire car ride home.

“They made me a koala meme.” Her voice was flat, but her eyes betrayed her, glinting with that familiar amusement she always tried to hide when she was "annoyed" with you.

You couldn’t help it. You burst into giggles again, patting the spot beside you on the couch. “Come here, my little koala. Let me comfort you.”

Sonia groaned dramatically but shuffled over, practically flopping onto you like a weighted blanket. “I hate you,” she mumbled, already half-curled in your lap, arms sliding around your waist, legs tangling with yours like second nature.

“You hate me,” you teased, running your fingers through her hair, “but your koala instincts say otherwise.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, but she nuzzled her face into your shoulder anyway, the tension in her body melting away the second your arms wrapped around her. She was basically a koala. for real. The clingiest, poutiest koala ever.

You pressed a kiss to her temple, feeling her sigh softly. “Rough day being the internet’s new meme?”

"Emily changed my contact name to ‘Clingy Koala’ in the group chat," she grumbled. "Jade kept making tree jokes. I couldn’t drink my smoothie without someone asking if I needed it ‘hand-fed by my tree girlfriend.’"

You were losing it, trying so hard not to laugh directly into her hair. “That’s… honestly iconic. We should make you a merch. Little koala hoodies with your face on them.”

She groaned again but didn’t budge from your lap. If anything, she snuggled in closer, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your side. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you’re still glued to me,” you teased, pulling the blanket over both of you.

There was a pause, then her voice softened, just a little. “You make a really good human tree though.”

You smiled, heart warm and full, brushing your nose against her cheek. “You make a pretty cute koala. Cling on as much as you want, babe.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, she was completely tangled around you, limbs locked in like she was preparing for a hibernation session.

“You realize I’m not moving for the next three hours, right?” she mumbled sleepily.

You laughed, kissing her forehead. “Good. Neither am I.”

The teasing could wait. Right now? It was you, your clingy koala, and a couch, exactly how it should be.

[undertheopensky]

Creatures Great And Small

It’s not that travelling through portals is a comfortable experience. It’s just when you do it so much, you start to get a feel for it - a familiarity of sorts, even though it sucks Din’s hairy balls on a summer day in Gerudo desert. And when you know what to expect, it’s pretty obvious when you don’t get it.

All this to say, this portal sucks, but in a slightly different way. A little to the left, or with a blue glass lens laid over it, or -

Legend hits the ground and crumples because his legs won’t hold him up. Which is uncomfortably familiar in a completely different way, goddesses, he has to get his bearings before the goddamn cook does and nothing is working right his legs won’t brace he can’t catch his balance he feels all shaky and strange -

But when he manages to at least lift his head, it’s not to an arrow in his face.

Ah. Silly me.

If Legend had been suddenly and violently forced into his Dark World form, it was likely they’d fallen into the Dark World through the portal. (Or an equivalent realm; Legend’s reserving judgement.) And if he’s affected, then of course the others would be too.

So instead of a band of Hylians contemplating dinner he’s instead faced with an array of strange animals busy panicking about their strangeness.

A pair of foxes, one red, brown, and cute, and the other red, white, and eerie. A horse that looked like it had been dragged through a mud field and a buck that had definitely been dragged through a hedge. A big cat with fur so dark it shone blue in the light, and something shaped like a dog except far, far too large, striped like a tiger and shrouded in thick ruffs of fur. Another fox-like thing, but this one black and blue with floppy ears - maybe it’s actually a dog?? Or, no, it does have the small triangular ears of a fox, it just also has ridiculous locks of fur hanging down its skull -

And Legend himself feels no instinctive fear at being in close quarters with all these predators.

Since they all seem occupied freaking out, he takes the chance to confirm his suspicions - he isn’t a rabbit. No pink fur, no long ears, no terror lining his heart. But also limited use of his forelimbs. At least rabbits could rock back on their haunches and maybe manipulate things, but Legend’s new shape is an obligate quadruped, apparently, because his hips refuse to bend that way.

Tragic.

Not that he’d be using a weapon either way.

The giant dog has made it to his feet with remarkable ease. His jaw opens, Twilight’s placid drawl contrasting against the long canines. “This is not how ah imagined mah day goin’.”

Ah, that explains it. The rancher has some practice what with his wolf form -

Wait. Why isn’t he in wolf form?

“Must be a different kinda realm,” he says in answer to that. “Ah never got a straight answer as to just what the Twilight Realm is.”

“The Dark World was said to be the Sacred Realm corrupted by dark magic and hatred. Is your Twilight place different?”

Twilight frowns. It’s odd, Legend thinks, to not feel a frisson of terror at a predator’s face twisting in thought. “Ah think so.”

“So if you two have been through this before, does that mean you know how to turn us back?” Unlike Twilight, Sky has not made as far as his feet. His large, cat-like form still lies in an ungainly sprawl.

Legend manages an awkward shrug. “As soon as we’re portalled out, we should change back. I have an item in my bags that is supposed to prevent this, but if I’m not actively holding it - hey - watch it -”

The red and brown fox has come bounding over with more enthusiasm than skill and almost lands on top of Legend. Sky gets his limbs tangled up when he tries to jolt to his feet. “Ledge! Ledge! Hey, Ledge, did you see that?! Have you ever done anything that cool before?!”

He’s probably referring to the backflip but Legend’s busy trying to figure out how to strangle Wild with his paws. “Why are you like this?!”

“Sorry about him.” Four’s picked his way over with considerably more care than Wild. “Not that I have any control over him, but y’know.” Up close, his fox-form looks a little off. Paws dipped in blood and a ruff so wispy it almost fades into mist at the ends, Four looks like he’s not entirely there. Still, he sounds normal, so Legend’s filing that under ‘not his problem until it is’.

“C’mon, up y’get,” Twilight says in encouragement. Wind’s pitiful whine gets a nudge with one giant paw. “You can do it. S’not so hard once y’catch ya balance.”

“Easy for you to say,” Wind mumbles into the dirt. Still, he does push himself up, and oh, that’s interesting. It turns out Wind is bipedal, except he still has paws and no opposable thumbs, which doesn’t bode well if they run into anything as complicated as a doorknob.

“What are you?” Wild asks, fascinated.

Legend would also like to know, since no dog he knows of walks on two legs, but the Dark World makes no sense at the best of times.

Wind bares his short little teeth from where he’s clinging to Twilight’s side for balance. He gets distracted from whatever he’s going to say to Wild, however, by Warriors finally staggering over on his spindly deer legs.

“There’s goddamn - flowers caught in my antlers -” he shakes his head, and the greenery rustles pleasantly. “Can someone help me out here?!”

“I don’t think any of us have opposable thumbs,” says Sky. His tail twitches.

Desperate, Warriors turns to the only other herbivore in the group.

“I am not eating the foliage out of your hair,” says Time. His deep voice sounds comical coming out of the mouth of an enormous horse. “Who knows where it’s been?”

With a groan, Warriors resigns himself to the indignity.

“Okay, okay, let’s get this show on the road,” Legend calls. “Is everyone alright? No injuries while you were figuring out your legs?”

He gets six ‘I’m fine’s and a sheepish admission from Sky that he still can’t stand up. You’re gonna have to sort that out eventually, you’re way too big for anyone to carry you, he says, then frowns. “Wait. Where’s Hyrule?”

“Um! Down here!”

Okay so they’re at least present.

They’re a fairy - small and pale with flowers wound through their hair standing on a daisy head. Or. At least fairy-shaped. The wings are wrong, small and stubby and opaque, and there’s no glow of magic around them.

It’s definitely Hyrule, though, and there’s no way they’ll be able to keep up with the rest of them at their size. “Okay, so we’re gonna have to carry you,” Legend says, and for the first time properly regrets the apparent loss of his rabbit form. “Wind? Think you can pick them up?”

Hyrule squeaks and dives down to cling to the white petals underfoot. “Don’t squish me!!”

“I won’t!” Wind promises, and carefully cups both flower and fairy in his clumsy paws to lift them out of the grass. “See? I got you. You’re okay.”

“Can you carry them without falling on your face, though?” Wild sounds genuinely curious, which just makes Wind bristle and scowl.

���Of course I can!!! Just watch me!”

“If you need to jump ship to someone’s back, no one will mind,” says Four to tiny Hyrule.

Sky has finally made it to his feet, leaning on the taller Twilight as he finds his balance. “I don’t know how you do this so easily…”

“Stop thinkin’ so hard. It’ll come to ya.”

Sky promptly stumbles and rowwls in frustration.

A predator’s snarl would once have thrown Legend’s heart into paroxysms of terror, but now there’s just - mild alertness. Interest in whatever had gotten Sky’s attention. No fear. No adrenaline coursing through him making it impossible to think of anything except racing to get away.

Between a pink rabbit and a blue cat…

Yeah. Legend will take the carnivore any day.

[calmcoldevening]

sinclair brothers w a reader thats severely intolerant of heat 🙏🙏 like reader cant be in temperatures above 70⁰ or theyre practically at deaths door. constantly fanning themselves to try to save themselves from the heat of ambrose. tries to stay in the coldest places possible when they can. refuses to be touched because its too hot. whenever they can control it? fan blasting. yk🙏

Slashers x reader, who hates the hot weather

• At first, Bo found your complaints funny and even pathetic, and he often teased you about it. After all, they had grown up here, and they were used to this climate and the heat. So it was strange to him, and he even thought you were pretending to be alone.

• Vincent also found it difficult to understand. After all, he spent his days in the workshop, surrounded by boiling cauldrons of wax and wearing a warm sweater to protect himself from the hot wax. But he didn't laugh at you, no. Well... it's your thing, so why should he laugh at you? He knows it's painful when you're not accepted because of your thing.

• Lester didn't give a damn. He's a friendly guy, he accepts everyone and everything. And he smokes. Share some weed for peace of mind?

• But in the end, they realized that you really didn't feel comfortable living in such conditions. In general, Bo bought a fan in the city, which you immediately took to your room and locked yourself in there.

• Vincent was the first to decide to give you some space. After all, your body needs to get used to the new climate. When he went to the city with Bo, he noticed that it wasn't as hot in Bo's car because his windows were covered with some dark film. So they bought some film to cover your room. The light was kind of coming into the room, but with this film, it didn't heat up the air at all. So it helped you a little.

• And when they were buying groceries and cans of beer and lemonade, Lester grabbed some ice molds. Now he always brought you drinks with big chunks of ice in the glass.

• Vincent made you a fan with beautiful patterns. He just wanted to support you and show that he cared.

• Although they still don't like the fact that you refuse to engage with them because they're "too hot." You're already too warm, and they're even hotter and more sweaty (and sometimes dirty). It's an unpleasant feeling. So it became an incentive for them to take cool showers every day. Then, when they were sitting on the couch, you would climb into one of their arms (in just your underwear because it was so hot, but they were used to it, so they didn't care) and snuggle up to the much-needed coolness.

• Bo constantly chews on mint gum in case you want to kiss.

• It's damn hot at home. So when you started walking around in your underwear, they tried to say or do something (like spank you). But after you almost stabbed Bo (he was overexcited lol), they took it for granted and stopped paying attention.

• You wear Bo's shirts because they're the biggest and loosest clothes around. He likes it.

• Lester often takes you to the lake, and once he took you to an aqua park in Bo (he didn't like the way people looked at you, so you didn't go there again)

Bo:

"You're like a cat that's been put on a hot windowsill." He laughs when you huddle up to a cold radiator in a cold corner of the room, but he still puts a fan in front of you.

"If you die from the heat, I'll be bored."

Sometimes he purposely sits in front of the fireplace for a long time, and then comes up to you with his arms open, trying not to laugh, "Oh, I'm so cold... Give me a hug!" You chase him away with your slippers (and sometimes with knives lol)

Lester:

He hands you a joint and says, "Try it, it's not just cold, it's really cool."

"If you were a reptile, I'd make you a terrarium..."

He silently brings you a popsicle with your favorite flavor.

Vincent:

During the day, he cools your pillows and blankets in the refrigerator and other places.

He gives you a bag filled with ice before bedtime.

In fact, he gets cold sometimes due to poor circulation, but he tolerates your fan or air conditioner. It's all about making you happy. Okay, he'll put another sweater on top, it's no big deal...

[sugarwyns]

into the hazardous ruins with @solsandrock 🔪

[faaun]

the way that diff languages sound r so fascinating they're all different and all so vivid

[talentforlying]

father grimaldi: forgive me, lord, for i have sinned. constantine: — understatement of the bloody century, that is. father grimaldi: the chapel is closed to the public! who are you? how did you get in here . . .? constantine: did you know vatican city has the highest per-capita crime rate of any nation state in the world? i'd have thought a touch of breaking and entering's pretty much par for the course around here.

so #1, an undeniable slay.

#2, how long do we think he was sitting in the confessional booth waiting for the guy to wake up from ellie's fake vision quest. like an hour? checking his light, practicing his Big Reveal Pose TM? he probably brought a book with him and just shoved it underneath the seat cushion when it was time to show off.

#3, knowing how intensely he studied & continues to study in order to teach himself magic at such an absurdly advanced level without any teachers to formally guide him? and how that level of dedication would absolutely carry over into researching a mark / making sure he had every corner of a confidence scheme nailed down pat? i like to imagine that the day before this meeting was spent with his severely under-caffeinated ass parked at a public library computer, squinting at articles for 'most important things to know about vatican city before you travel' or 'top 10 little-known facts about vatican city' and using the back of his boarding pass to take notes on what would be the best throwaway line to blow off all the usual questions with.

also, he probably woke up still in his travel clothes less than two hours before this scene and had to hustle to get suited up in time for his Dramatic Apparition. the demon blood was boiling so bad in that chapel that it was giving him a killer migraine. he didn't get breakfast so his stomach was growling the ENTIRE time. but all that meant was he had plenty of room to eat UP the runway and that's EXACTLY what the fuck he did.i'm

[chososcutie]

⟡ ݁₊˚⊹ SWEETHEART, SORRY IM LATE, I WAS LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

—𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ synopsis♡: when one fateful day leads to you being cursed, you go on a mission to find the infamous satoru gojo and his castle, but little do you know you’d find yourself in his bed later that night..

—𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ featuring♡: satoru gojo x reader

—𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ tags♡: unprotected sex, riding, oral (fem!recieving), mating press, praise, making out, p in v, cervix kissing, big dick gojo!

—𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ a/n♡: howl’s moving castle is my favorite studio ghibli film ever, so you already know i had to write a fanfic about it!

—𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ w/c♡: 4.5k

"oh, darling won't you come out of that hat shop with us, you're truly overworking yourself!"

you smile softly, eyes flickering over to where your expectant sisters stood watching you, before looking back at the vibrant purple hat you had been working on, threading through with flowers. "oh no, i couldn't. you all go ahead, though."

they giggle softly at your reply, already well-acquainted with your firm work ethics and habits of almost never leaving the shop, tossing a, "suit yourself!" over their shoulders.

and as the door closes behind them, leaving you to stare at all of the colorful creations of caps littering your desk, you sigh, leaning back to take them all in.

maybe you had been working too hard..

being the eldest daughter of your family, you had been entrusted with the shop from a young age, making and sewing up hats for a living. it had been your father's, though now had been passed down to your mother, who had appointed you as an apprentice, although you were practically the only one who crafted and fabricated everything, and though the work was quiet and calming, it did tend to get rather boring at times.

the interior of the shop was tiny and just a bit cramped, every available surface being taken by assortments of feathery, patterned hats in almost every color. brown, old, and creaking rows of shelves surrounded your working area along with coatracks dipping under the weight of all the caps resting on them.

and though it wasn't much, it was yours.

you continued working for another hour, listening to the rickety clock on your wall tick tick tick away, with an impending sense of dull weariness.

was this all you were ever meant to do?

finally, you push back in your chair with a squeak! decidedly grabbing your hat and plucking it on your head, locking and closing the shop door with a resolute slam.

you would get out and see the town to clear your head. it wasn’t good to lock yourself away in the shop for too long, so you needed to breathe some fresh air before you started working again, and find some inspiration.

and so, you venture out through the hustle and bustle of crowded markets, trains whistling and blowing gray smoke as they chuff along, and the bumping of carriages along stoney paths.

the air grows thick with the amount of people thronging around you, spilling heedlessly in countless directions, and after more than one person gets in your way and abruptly stops, you huff, veering off toward a side alleyway.

it wasn't ideal but it would just have to..

bump!

“hey, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone? you lost, sweetheart?”

a slightly heavier set, blonde man leaned in front of you on a wall, blocking your path. he smiled down at you condescendingly, but it lacked any actual warmth, all teeth instead.

“n-no sir, i’m not lost.” you manage to stammer out, trying to duck past him, but seemingly out of nowhere his companion sidles up next to him, bumping his hip and peering down at you, his mean brown eyes and thick mustache seeming menacing in the dim lighting.

“you sure?” his friend snickers, one gloved hand reaching for your side and spinning you around to press against his chest, a sinisterly unfamiliar cologne surrounding and practically suffocating you with its intensity. “why don’t we show you the way home?”

“leave me alone!” you gasp out, trying to break free from their suddenly too-tight grip on you.

“there you are sweetheart, sorry i’m late, i was looking everywhere for you.”

your body stiffens as a large, warm hand comes to grasp gently at your wrist, tugging you away from the two men, and spinning you around to lay eyes on the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

his eyes were azure colored and half-lidded, his voice low and resonant throughout the empty alleyway. he was dressed extravagantly with a poofy white button-up and red and black pattered overcoat flowing loosely behind him, and as his eyes meet yours, something warm twinges in your stomach, the feeling spreading all down your body hotly.

his gaze flickers away to the men still stood there, as if noticing them for the first time, and something about him sharpens, voice noticeably colder. “oh? and what are you two doing?”

"hey, we were just.." the blonde one's voice raises indignantly, trying to pull you back to them with a hasty tug.

"leaving." the blue-eyed man behind you finishes, his other hand lifting to raise his pointer finger and slice it to the side, causing the two men to immediately break into a march, boots landing heavily as they stomp away in sync.

"wha.. how did you?" you stare up at him in wonder, his own flicking down to your face with a small little smirk tugging at his lips.

"magic. now hang on!"

before you can even reply, he's grabbing you by the hand, and lifting you effortlessly up, up, up, into the sky, floating alongside him high above the town, all the people below you seemingly tiny dots scattered around the vibrant landscaping.

"oh!" you exclaim, fearfully clinging onto him as you feel weightless, the air whooshing below and around you.

"straighten your legs, it's okay.." the white-haired man whispers to you playfully, hands curling protectively around you. "now, start walking andd.. see! you're a natural!" he laughs softly at your hesitant steps into the air, growing more confident as he holds you up with ease.

the ground becomes a blur as you match each other's steps, airily floating as if it were any other day, coasting in sync as colors whirl below you in a mess of banners and flags.

"so, where ya headed?" the man's sultry, honeyed tone interrupts you as you quickly turn to glance at him, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"oh, i.. uh.. just the hat shop."

so much for your day out.

"hmm, a hat maker you are?" you follow his eyes to where they linger on your simple little sun hat adorned with red ribbon.

"something like that.."

he smiles as he glides over to the small overlooking balcony outside your workshop, helping you down easily, your wide eyes gazing up at him as he prepares to leave again.

"make sure to be more careful next time you're out, mmkay? not everyone around here is quite as gentlemanly as me." his tousled, snowy white hair billows around him as he grins down at you teasingly.

" 'kay.." you nod shyly, and he begins to back up, smile widening.

"good girl."

and blowing a kiss to you, he jumps back off the balcony, eliciting a small gasp from you as you instantly rush over to press yourself against it, straining for a better look.

but he's already gone, practically dissipated into thin air.

with a tired sigh, and a combing of your fingers through messy hair, you lock the door to your shop with a click! before slumping down to the floor.

it had been a long day, and just as you're starting to relax, you hear a small, telltale tinkling of the bell that hangs above your door, alerting you when new customers arrive.

"hello? sorry ma'am we're closed right now." you start to stand up, noticing the woman in front of you, her face slightly flushed and eyebrows scrunched, as if in anger.

her figure is awfully plump, with a round, chubbed neck and doughy arms that hang out of her dress like deflated balloons.

her makeup is done rather sharply, as if made to look intimidating with hooked eyeliner and boldly colored eyeshadow, all accompanied by rouge red lipstick and a mole on the side of her mouth.

"why, you!" she stops right in front of you, lifting her─many─chins to stare down the bridge of her flat nose at you. "it was you he was floating around with this afternoon?"

you stiffen. she couldn't possibly mean..

"that wretch!" she hisses angrily. "eleven miserable years of my life spent chasing him! and this is what he does?" she slams her hand down on the counter loudly, causing you to flinch.

"please leave now! we're closed!" you say, your voice taking on a more firm tone as you try not to tremble, straightening yourself up.

she wheels around at you then, as if having forgotten you were there, still rambling on with passion. "oh? standing up to the most powerful witch, are we?"

her overdone, puckered lips draw up into a sinister little grin as you start to back up, unsure of yourself now.

witch?

"since he likes you so much, let's see if you can win over my precious, when i haven't been able to in more than a decade!"

black oozing spirits erupt from her flabby form, rushing over to you as you stand agape, horrified.

"and if you don't manage to fully capture his fleeting heart, you will die!"

all of a sudden, a cloying murky fog drifts in the homey space of the shop, invading your every sense, and clogging your nose tightly.

"what..?" you gasp, but all at once, it surges over to you, enveloping you in its tepid humidity, your mouth gulping in thick heaves of it, pouring into your throat, mouth, eyes, and nose with tendrils extending out of you, like a possession of your very body.

and then.. all is silent as darkness settles upon you, save for the fading echoes of the evil witch's deep, resounding laugh booming throughout the night.

when you open your eyes again, peeking out through your fingers carefully, you don’t feel different, with the exception of a vague, lingering sense of fear.

you were still plain ol' regular you, the you that stayed in working all day and turned down invitations to go out, opting to sew hats instead.

but something was.. off.

what had happened last night to make you so dazed, and memories so jumbled up?

and then, as quickly as it had been evading you, it all comes rushing back─ the man who had floated you into the air as if in a dream, the witch appearing, the sound of her cackle as she cursed you..

when you think back on the specifics of the spell she had cast however, you feel yourself pale, hands falling to your sides limply.

you were supposed to make the mysteriously magical guy that you had met yesterday fall in love with you? when you didn’t even know his name, or who he was?

that was practically impossible.

taking a deep breath, you desperately begin to wrack your brain for ideas as you try not to panic or think about the cruel ways the witch would kill you if you didn’t end up being capable of it.

one way you knew however that would be worth a shot to undo the curse, would be to find a well-practiced witch or wizard, and have them lift the curse from you, saving you a lot of time having to look for the elusive man and making him love you.

but.. there was no guarantee it would work.

you sigh heavily, trying to calm yourself down. that would mean leaving your town behind to move toward the wastelands where the witches resided, and in turn, leaving your faithful little shop, the only place you’d ever known to travel in the hopes for a remedy.

and so, it was with great strength that you straightened yourself up, huffing determinedly, and placing your hat firmly upon your head before heading out, intent on finding a way to break the curse before it was too late..

to the far west of the town, where weeds ran wild and the flowers never bloomed, muddy trails streaked across the land in brown stripes, was where you found it.

a creaking thing, four-legged and made of rotting wood with rusty pipes haphazardly sticking out of it, emitting black curling smoke to twine through the air, its agape, timber mouth and chipping, corroded eyes bringing a shiver to your spine.

gojo’s castle.

you had heard of it many times from your sisters, stories varying from grossly evil reenactments of how he devoured the hearts of beautiful women in search of his own, to tales of his haunting beauty, with glowing, cerulean eyes that were the last thing you'd ever see of the world, never being able to tell a soul.

and then it occurs to you.

of course! gojo was the most powerful wizard of them all, wielding magic that left no trace, going along with his cold reputation and secretive identity.

he could easily remedy the curse placed upon you with a snap! of his deadly fingers, but with the consequence that you still might not leave alive.

you look back up at the faltering, tarnished castle beginning to build up speed as it strode along.

it was now or never.

and so, with a running start and a leap of faith, you manage to clamber aboard the quickly taking-off oxidized clunker, clutching on to the door handle tightly before the wind practically shoves you inside, falling to the floor in a heap with a little, “oof!”

and when you look back up, rubbing your head with a wince, the enormity of the castle stretches before you, all glittering details that suggest riches, and antique, aged wooden furniture, cobwebs crowding near the top of the roof from the impossible vastness of it all.

slowly, you make it to your feet again, looking down all of the many stretching hallways for a sign of life, your steps clicking on the tiled floor ominously.

“hello? anyone here?” you call out, but to no avail.

eventually, your steps lead you to a small, tucked away room, filled with heaps of glinting trinkets and worn carpet that suggested someone had been here many times before.

there are bookshelves with dusty paperbacks piled atop them and shiny frames, but your interest was in the hefty bed shoved in the center, dipping under the weight of quilted blankets thrown lazily across it, and antique floral pillows that looked alike to a grandmother’s.

from the hours of walking that it had taken you to get here, your feet ached and your eyelids were already starting to droop from exhaustion.

all you needed was a nice sleep, and after evaluating your choices, your fatigue eventually wins as with a soft sigh, you shed your slightly muddied clothes into a pool on the floor, and trudge to the edge of the bed, lifting the heavy covers to slide in, your breathing slowing as you drift off, blissfully unaware of the warmth radiating from someone next to you.

darkness covers the room, so you don’t notice when you turn over on your side and press your soft tits against a moving, breathing body next to you, slinging your leg across him and drifting back off.

but he does, stirring awake with a sleepy murmur and tired, blue eyes blinking open only to freeze on your face, his cock hardening painfully in his pants instantly.

it couldn’t be..

you yawn sleepily, shifting closer only for your hand to drape itself directly across his lap,

fuck.

his eyes squeeze shut, breathing coming in soft, short pants as he tries to control himself.

this was so wrong, you were sleeping, completely unaware of..

your eyes flutter, and you groan as your hand curls around something hot, heavy, and pulsing, twitching beneath your touch frantically.

immediately, his face flushes a tinge pinker, eyes growing half-lidded and his breaths coming faster. wake up, wake up, wake up.

and then with a small yawn, your eyes blearily open to blink drowsily at your surroundings, startling only when they land on the pleading, blue eyed man next to you, hips unintentionally pushing up into your hand for more.

you scramble backward as your eyes land on where you’re tightly gripping him, gasping with surprise and already stumbling over an apology.

“i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t know there was someone in here or i would’ve..”

but before you can stutter out another word, his mouth is on yours, and he’s kissing you hard, lips crashing onto yours a little uncertainly, as if he was lacking the experience, only making up for it in eagerness as he quickly finds the softness of your hip, pulling you closer and tugging your leg over him so the heat of your core is against him.

and then, as suddenly as he had been on you, he pulls back, face still shadowed and lined with the darkness of night as you gasp for breath from the intensity of it all.

you lean closer to him, causing your plushy tits to press up against his arm as your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark, only being able to see a faint outline of the man before you.

“i’m trying to control myself, but you’re making it a bit hard, sweetheart.” his voice is deep, slightly hoarse, and familiar all at once though you can’t quite place where you know him from.

you feel warmth pooling between your legs and lean forward, your hair tickling his face as you prop yourself up atop him.

“are you gojo? the wizard who eats the hearts of pretty girls?” you breathe out, rubbing your thighs together subtly.

he swallows thickly, lips parting slightly as his hand slowly makes its way to squeeze the soft, supple skin of your thighs as if grounding himself, his body feverish beneath yours as you feel his raging bulge poking into you with every small movement you make.

"s-something like that, although right now i'm thinking of eating something else.." his large hands skim slightly over your inner thighs, grazing the hot, gushing flood of wetness that had already begun to seep from your panties generously, one long thick finger curling slightly to press on your throbbing lil' clit like a button, your pink lips parting in a gasp as your eyes roll back immediately.

“y-you..” but your words immediately die in your throat as the bed dips and creaks as he rolls you over so he’s on top of you before pressing soft kisses all the way down your body, breathing out a soft, “s’this okay?” to which you quickly nod, already breathless for more.

and then he’s tugging your panties down in one swift motion, and exhaling sharply at the sight of your dripping cunt all laid bare before him, the feeling of the cool air grazing you making you squirm slightly.

two warm, large palms spanning across your waist hold you down as he nuzzles his head between your thighs, placing a chaste kiss to your pussy before pulling back, strings of arousal already attached to his lips.

“mmh.. so sweet.” he quickly buries himself between your legs, busying his mouth with lapping at you like a man starved, his tongue dipping into your honeyed cunt for more as the tip of his pert, button nose nudges against your clit.

“g-gojo!” you gasp out, your head falling back onto the pillows and back arching up helplessly as he uses hot, calculated sweeps of his tongue to stroke against you perfectly, slippery drool stringing sloppily between your legs.

“please..” he grunts, sucking your sensitive, twitchy bundle of nerves into his mouth before releasing with a sticky pop! “call me satoru.”

“satoru.. fuck!” you moan softly, body desperately curving up as you grind against his face for more friction which he lets out a pleased groan at, hands coming to your hips to rock you back and forth, suffocating himself in your warmth.

he quickly throws your legs over his broad shoulders, his head shaking side to side as he sticks out his tongue, gathering all of your honeyed slick with eagerness while you can only writhe and cling onto the snowy locks of his tousled hair tightly, tossing your head back with every loud moan he draws out of you.

it's only when you glance down that you notice the way his hips are desperately rutting against the creaking mattress, humping his throbbing, raging boner into the cushy bed for some form of relief as he eats you out vigorously, parting your sappy folds with his lengthy, dextrous tongue.

“castle gets lonely..” he mumbles into your pussy, the vibrations rocketing up your spine and causing a whine to get stuck in your throat as your stomach knots achingly tighter, the tang of your release on your tongue. “so m’so glad you decided to stop by..”

your eyes glassily cross, barely able to think or hear what he’s saying above the roar of blood crashing in your ears and your heavy breathing, hips twitching up into his mouth and thighs trembling as your stomach aches with the intensity of it all.

and then his whole mouth is covering your core, hot strings of spit mingling with your own sultry mess to streak down your thighs obscenely, and the stimulation turns out to be too much, as all at once your vision turns spotty and you're cumming hard, saturated shimmery squirt just gushing out of you as your body turns into a trembling, whining mess beneath him, sensitivity making your thighs clamp hard around his head.

and as he laps up every drop of your candied cunt, lips glossy and splotches of your sticky wetness pooling across his face, you can only shudder as he continues to suck and slurp at you, until you're desperately pushing him away, the tingling of overstimulation starting to settle over you in pulsing waves.

he sits back, out of breath and you see the slippery sheen of your essence dripping off his glistening chin in droplets, as he eyes you hungrily, like he hasn't had enough until he devours you whole.

he slowly makes his way back up to your face, your back hitting the plush mattress with a thump! as he pins you down, head lazing in a downward angle to draw your attention to the achingly painful, twitching bulge in his pants, sexy half-lidded blue eyes opening just wide enough for you to lock eye-contact.

blue? why did that remind you of someone..

but all of your thoughts are lost the second he's sliiiding his pants down and revealing the neatly trimmed, tufted white happy trail leading all the way to a massive, blushing pink cock, veiny and girthy with milky precum frosting out his tip so prettily.

his lip catches between his teeth as he wraps around himself with one hand, and begins to pull upward in rough-paced tugs, as his head lolls back, more stringy precum coming to gloss over his thickened mushroom head.

"you just gonna watch, or are ya gonna help me out here, doll?" he huskily drawls out, shuddering as you immediately spring to action, coming to straddle his lap in one fluid movement, desperately aligning yourself flush with his heavy cock and sinking down just on the chubbed, rounded tip with a grimace at how enormously big he was.

he makes a gruff noise, leaning back as he helps you to slowly work your way down onto his length, taking every thumping! veiny inch of him to meld into your hot, clenching walls, jaw falling slack at the pure effort it is just to fit him halfway.

"oh g-god, sweetheart.." he chokes out and you feel him pulsating and twitching faintly inside you as if he's fighting back the urge to cum right then and there, his hair flopping into his eyes as he rocks forward slightly.

and then, one thick finger is finding itself on your clit, gliding across the wetness just pouring out of you in sultry sheens as he guides you to take him, and almost instantly, your cunt greedily swallows him to the hilt, a faint bulge outlining his cock stretching all the way up past your belly button generously.

"good.. hah.. girl, taking me so well." he breathes out, and then his jittery lap is already bouncing you slowly, unable to wait another second as you feel his hefty length tracing sweltering hot strokes deep inside you, rolling his hips upward as he pants feverishly, a hand draping its way around your waist and pulling you closer.

drool pours down the side of your mouth helplessly as he moves you up and down on him, your pussy so stuffed and overspilling, it's almost obscene, though he seems to like it, cooing soft praises to you in encouragement.

"i betcha like this, yeah?" quickly grabbing ahold of your hips to get a better angle, he begins hitting into the cushy, soft spot of yours that always makes your legs weaken, smearing gooey precum from his bludgeony tip into you roughly, while the squelching between your legs grows louder, and more lewd with every thrust, the plap plap plap! of your sticky thighs ricocheting off his echoing throughout the vast castle.

he jolts his swollen head allll the way into your cervix, jackhammering with an urgency that leaves your mouth agape and tongue lolling as you feel your abdominals tighten, a familiar tautness creeping its way into your mind.

your pussy flutters around his length as his thrusts grow sloppy, and uncalculated, soft hair tickling you as he leans closer, his musky cinnamon-y scent infiltrating your every sense. "m' s'close my girl, i n-never.. hah.. thought this day would come." he shudders under your touch as you pause, bringing his face closer to truly examine it for the first time that night.

"wait- satoru?" and then, all the pieces come clicking together.

the magical man who had flown and twirled you around in the air was nothing other than the satoru gojo, owner of the infamous moving castle and the most powerful wizard of all time.

and it's then that he cums, spurting heaps n' heaps of creamy bucketloads of ribbony white. so much of it is pouring out, in fact, you swear your tummy swells up with it all, beginning to drip down your thighs in messy rivulets as gojo groans, unable to stop emptying himself heftily inside you.

your release follows just seconds later, as you soak his abdominals in your honeyed essence, slippery sheens coating him generously as he moans softly, still huffing from the effects of his own climax.

as you both come to, stars still blinking hazily behind your vision, you turn to him urgently. "g-gojo, the real reason i came here was 'cause.."

but he quickly shushes you, placing a finger on your pouty lips with a smirk curving up his features. "shh, baby i know, i know. you got a curse on ya, hm?"

you pause, taken aback. "how did you-"

he shakes his head. "in all truth, i was the one who sent her. i wanted to see you." he shifts himself to lean over you, bending your knees up to poke into your soft tits, grinning lazily down at you as he folds you into a mean, mating press. "and sweetheart, even if that love curse was real.. let's just say i already broke it, heh."

© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

tagslist: @brownied0ll @iluvgogurt445 @loafteaw @satoruswifeyyyyy @lunar-harts @springismss @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @luvvcho

[waywardsalt]

thinking about how id piece together how magic works in hyrule. into the tags it goes

[bruhstories]

touch-starved

summary: dante is touch-starved, and he thinks the only way for him to feel something is to get punched by you

pairing: dante x afab!reader | based on the netflix version but definitely canon divergent

warnings: dry humping, unprotected p in v, creampie, degradation kink, very light choking, lots of swearing, kind of soft dom dante and light pain kink if you squint, idiots in love, friends to lovers, bit of praise, fem bodied reader

w/c: ~3.2k

a/n: this is definitely not my best work but it's a warm up ig. lol anyway i absolutely loved the dmc netflix version, and i'm considering getting the games

"Punch me."

Not a question, but an indisputable demand coming from the demon hunter, which made you do a double take, place the barrel of your M4 carbine on the table, and flat-out refuse.

"No."

He snarled, yes, snarled at you, slamming his pistol against the table with a loud bang. You looked up from your own weapon, taken aback by Dante's reaction, concern written all over your face. Was he high??

"Come on, Y/N, just do it. Just one punch, one tiny little punch. I know you want to." His cocky grin did numbers on your nerves, but you still refrained from giving him the satisfaction of hitting him. It’s been years since you met Dante, by this point you were used to his shenanigans.

"Why, though?" You decided to focus on cleaning your weapon, the sharp smell of isopropyl alcohol filling the room.

"Because," Dante groaned, snatching the bottle of liquid from you, causing you to glare daggers at him, "I'm touch starved."

You blinked once, twice, trying your hardest to process both his honesty, and the logistics of his request.

"Why not ask for a hug, then? Or, I don't know, go to therapy?"

"Hah! I'm sure my therapist is gonna have a field day with me! So, my dad, a demon, disappeared without a trace, then my mother and twin brother died, but actually my brother is alive somewhere. My therapist is gonna need a therapist."

"Okay, okay, you made your point. Still, you could just rephrase it. Maybe leave out the demon bit." You wiped the barrel clean before setting it aside.

"I'd rather get punched. Now, please."

"Dante, a punch isn’t gonna solve it. Are you sure you don’t want a hug? I could cook you something. Or we could grab a few beers and watch a movie, or talk about your feelings." You shrugged.

Both of you had done this before — went out for drinks, danced, cooked together, fell asleep together — it was so intimate, almost like you were a couple. But the reality was that you weren’t. Not by a long shot. Unfortunately for you, Dante was protective of you in the way an older brother was. You thought that, perhaps, he missed Vergil so much that you were the closest thing he had to a sibling in years.

"A punch would be less time consuming. Cooome on, babe, just hit me!"

You hated when he called you babe. He called other girls babe, girls that were hot, pretty, girls that were his type, and it was the nickname that made you clench your jaw and purse your lips.

"Ugh, fine!" You sat up, rotated your wrist and flexed your fingers. "Are you sure this is going to help in any way?"

"Positive. Right here." Dante pointed at his cheek.

"What, in your face?"

"You're stalling."

Without a single ounce of hesitation you swung your arm, hitting the demon hunter square in his face, but it caused you more pain than it did him, and you stumbled back, holding your fist in your other hand.

"Son of a fucking bitch!" You cried out in pain, knowing damn well that would happen. Still, you couldn't say no to him. Ever.

"Are you okay?" Dante was visibly concerned — a rare sight since he was always cool and edgy, even when his own life was in danger.

"Fuck no! Feels like I punched a brick wall!" You practically growled at him, gaze quickly softening when you saw the pure look of terror in his eyes. "But hey, nothing a little ice can't fix, right?"

"Right." He nodded and got up, making a beeline for the freezer.

There was no ice in it, but there was a pack of frozen peas somewhere at the bottom of a drawer, which Dante picked up and brought to you. When you reached for it, he, instead, took your sore hand in his, gently pressing the cold legumes onto your knuckles. You winced, instinctively trying to retract your hand, but he held it in place, his fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you from backing away.

The pain wasn't gone, but it was becoming bearable, and a relieved murmur escaped past your lips, one that sounded closer to a moan than a sigh. Dante's cheeks burned, tinted red with embarrassment and arousal because you were yet another girl in his life who just didn't want to be involved romantically with him. Not that he tried anything with you, because he always thought you deserved better. Sure, he was cocky and flirtatious, but he wasn't a dick. If no one reciprocated the flirting, he didn't push his luck. It was simple. And he wasn’t the type who did one-night stands, despite the rumours. Dante enjoyed having a connection to the people he took to bed, he became sexually attracted to those he knew on a deeper emotional level. But sometimes, when he was really, truly desperate, he would download Tinder and hook up with random girls.

And he reeked of desperation.

"Dante, you can let go of my hand now."  You told him, part of you hoping he wouldn't.

Who could blame you? He was an objectively attractive man, with a charming smile and a body sculpted by the gods themselves. Why would he ever want to get involved with you? Dante was your opposite — he talked, he sang, he danced, he was obnoxious. You were quiet, most of the time, and shy. In fact, when he first met you, he thought you had some form of speech impediment, with your nose in Boccaccio’s The Decameron, a book you stole from the public library because you were much too young to read. That’s when knew you were trouble, just like him.

"Yeah, of course." Dante stepped back. "How's your hand?"

"Better. How are you feeling?"

"Me? Why are you asking?"

"Hello?" You scrunched your nose and frowned. "You wanted me to punch you because you were touch-starved. Did it help?"

"I'll be honest, it felt more like a tickle than anything." He shrugged. "Are you sure you didn't pull your punch?"

There it was, the one thing that turned you from an introvert to a bat-shit crazy bitch — his stupid little mouth that he opened without ever thinking.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're telling me I risked breaking my bones so you could feel better, only for you to not feel anything? I swear to fucking God, Dante, this is the last time I'm doing anything nice for you."

"Nice? You punched me!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, while your blood boiled inside of you, sending you into a blind rage.

"You asked me to punch you, you maniac! You should've fucked me instead!"

Your eyes widened at the sentence that came out of your mouth without a single thought, mortified at your own stupidity.

"Hugged. I meant hugged. Shit."

"No, no, hold up, you didn't say hugged." Dante tilted his head, one hand rubbing his chin. "Isn't that called a Freudian slip?"

"I- well- how the fuck do you even know what a Freudian slip is?" You tried changing the subject but he didn't bite.

"Google." He closed the gap between the two of you, and for the first time you felt intimidated by him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

The bluntness of his question, coupled with the sudden change in the pitch of his voice made you feel like a cornered prey. There was no possible way he was serious. But he wasn't wrong — the nature of your jobs made it impossible for either of you to have partners, and besides, you've known each other for years. It was only natural that some form of physical attraction would have developed between you two, right? But why you? Why now? And the worst of all your questions, why not?

You didn’t want to think about how this would ruin almost a decade of friendship. All you could think about was the look of pure lust in his eyes as he held your gaze, and how months upon months of sexual frustrations accumulated inside of you, bubbling and boiling and exploding when you dropped the pack of peas on the floor.

"Yes. I want you to fuck me."

Without a sliver of hesitation, you felt him pick you up with ease, hands roaming up and down his back as he slammed you down onto the table, desperately pushing away all the guns and knives. How thoughtful of him. Your hands slithered under his blood red coat while he tugged at your t-shirt, pulling it over your head to expose your bare breasts to him.

"No bra? Kinky." Dante stopped to take a better look at you.

"Stop talking." You firmly told him, but the chuckle that erupted from your throat betrayed you.

He was the one person you felt most comfortable around, so much so that you didn't feel weirded out by him pressing his lips onto your neck, or his fingertips bruising the plush of your hips, or his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. No, it felt natural, too natural, like your skin was made to be touched by him.

With his coat on the floor, you tackled his shirt, effectively tearing it off of him because you were just as desperate as he was, and Dante pulled your body closer to his, your clothed cunt accidentally rubbing against the bulge in his trousers. You were aching from the lack of sex, and you uncontrollably moaned at the tiny bit of friction before mumbling a weak 'sorry.'

"Fuck, don't be. That's actually kind of hot." He shamelessly admitted, and you rose a brow.

"Yeah? Then you wouldn't mind me doing it again?" You chewed on your lower lip, but he could see past the fake innocence when you rolled your hips, frantically and feverishly rubbing your clit through the layers of fabric. "Shit, I could come just from this."

For a split second, Dante wondered if this was all real. What happened to your shyness? How was it possible that his best friend, the quiet, nerdy girl he'd known for such a long time, was worse than any demon he'd ever encountered? Not that he was a saint. Far from it, because when you threw your head back, desperate to climax, his is eyes darkened, black seeping into his sclera. It should've made you afraid, but it had the opposite effect. The thought that he could activate his Devil Trigger and quite literally snap you like a twig turned you on.

"Do it, then." Dante's hand snaked behind the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. "Show me just how needy you are."

Beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you fucked yourself on the half-demon, fog settling in your brain with each breath, each movement, each beating of your heart. Faster. Harder. Faster. Harder. Faster.

"Oh-" Any sentence you tried to utter stopped in your throat, replaced by a string of whimpers and curses. Whatever you were trying to babble was reduced to incoherent words.

"Well shit, I didn't know you were such a filthy little slut."

"Just- oh- shut up-"

"Hmm, I don't think you really want me to shut up." Dante sneered when you picked up the pace. "I think you like it when I talk like this."

"N-not true!" You yelped as he pinched your nipple, barely doing anything and yet you were a mess already.

"So, you don't want me to call you a fucktoy, then? Bet you're dripping right now. Bet you want me balls deep inside of you."

"Fuck, I'm gonna come!" You proved his point when your entire body quivered under his, mind blank and vision blurry.

"There, there." Dante pressed his lips onto your forehead. "I got you."

The noise of his belt unbuckling made you snap your eyes open, filling you with newfound desire and guilt — poor Dante, his cock was probably aching by now while you had the time of your life. He stepped back, letting his trousers pool at his feet, and you lifted your skirt to peel your panties off. You caught him staring at you, taking the sight in, and what a sight it was — locks of hair fell out of your bun, sticking to your sweaty temples, your legs still shaking from the orgasm, and your cunt dripping wet.

"I'd love to eat you out, babe, but my balls are genuinely gonna explode." He confessed, earning a giggle from you. Even with his eyes pitch black and his Devil Trigger on the verge of activating, Dante was still Dante. And you loved that about him.

"Hurry up and fuck me, then."

"Are you that desperate that you forgot your manners?" He dug his fingertips into the plush of your hips, violently pulling you closer to him.

"Please hurry up and fuck me?" You pouted.

"Good girl, that's better." Dante pushed your leg to the side with his elbow, dragging his cock up and down your slit.

You didn't get the chance to take a look at it, but the tip felt huge, so much so that you gasped, propping yourself on your elbows to see better, and you were not disappointed. In fact, you were concerned. You could not take it.

"Dante, it's not gonna fit."

He shook his head with a half-smile, finding your concern quite cute.

"I'll make it fit."

It was both a promise and a threat, but you trusted him. God, you trusted him with your life. He slowly and gently pushed the tip, your slick more than enough to lubricate his cock, but he stopped every time you looked uncomfortable to make sure you were okay.

"Tell me if it's too much."

"No, you can- it's fine, keep going." You closed your eyes, the discomfort causing you to clench around him instead of relaxing, which made Dande forget how to breathe or think.

But the worst came to a halt when he was fully in, stopping briefly to allow you to accommodate to the size. Your breathing went back to normal soon enough, and the last ounce of pain in your body was swiftly replaced by a surge of electricity when Dante moved, slowly and softly rolling his hips, unable to abstain any longer. And you didn't want him to when his cock filled you up so good, reaching places you didn't even know existed inside of your body. Your fingernails dug into his back, clawing at his skin with desperation and impatience, like you needed more than what he was already giving you.

"See? I told you I’ll make it fit. And you take me so well." Dante said, dragging his mouth over your neck, your scent overloading his senses.

But it just wasn't enough. No matter how painful, you wanted it-

"Harder."

Assertive, demanding, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he pulled back to look at you, as if not believing your request.

"A minute ago, you were wriggling in pain, now you want it harder?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "I want it harder, faster, please-"

You were shushed by two digits forcing open your mouth, and you instinctively wrapped your lips around them, sucking obediently.

"You talk too much." He gave you a taste of your own medicine. "Should've known you were just a dumb little cocksleeve."

The degrading words caused you to moan and drool around his fingers, tears welling up in your eyes. Each thrust had you clench tighter, the tip of his ridiculously large cock punishing your cervix. Pain and pleasure bubbled inside of you, sparking through your body as Dante practically ripped his fingers from your mouth, only to wrap them around your throat. He was a hungry man, and you were dinner — arching your back to get closer, deeper, you fucked yourself on his cock with his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, and he revelled in your worship.

"Shit, you like it when it hurts, don't you?" He whispered, squeezing harder while you nodded eagerly. "Of course you do."

Of course you did. How could you not when he fucked you so good that your dignity and modesty were long forgotten? When Dante stripped you of your decency to bring out the worst in you? You felt your second orgasm build up, causing you to twitch under him, eyes rolling back as you slipped your hands under his arms, holding on for dear life.

"Again- gonna come again, Dante! Fuck!"

"Atta girl." He held your quivering body, his own hips stuttering, brutally thrusting into you with raw, animalistic passion.

You came undone on his cock, fingers carding through his hair, pushing away white locks to look at his pretty eyes while his arm slithered under your lower back to both support you and bring you closer to him. Dante was close, his throbbing cock still stretching your sore cunt out. He bucked his hips, splitting you open while you latched your arms around his neck, tits pressed against his chest and your lips ghosting over his earlobe.

"Almost there, babe." Dante promised. "You're doing so well." He pulled back, nearly on edge, but you squeezed your legs tighter around his waist.

"Don't pull out." You demanded, and that was enough to help him reach enlightenment.

He filled you up, and when he did pull out, watching his cum slowly leak out of you, you could've sworn he whispered 'marry me' under his breath. Surely it was just the brain fog, or the post-orgasm high. Your whole body was numb, and you stumbled into Dante's arms when you tried to get down from the table, muscles sore and aching.

"You wanna get pizza?" He nonchalantly asked, as if he didn't just fuck his best friend.

"I- shouldn't we talk about this?" You avoided looking into his eyes, opting to stare at the floor instead.

"About what?"

God, he was either insufferably oblivious or remarkably good at pretending.

"Us." You sighed.

"What's there to talk about?" Dante's fingers found your chin, and he gently lifted it up, forcing you to look at him.

"Don't make this harder for me, please. You know things won’t be the same now. We’re not in a relationship and-"

"I don't follow." Confusion was written all over his face. "Do you not want to be my girlfriend?"

"Girl- I- hold up, what? Do you want me to be your girlfriend?" You tilted your head, baffled by his question, because of course you wanted to. You just never had the guts to admit that you like him. It was even more shocking that he liked you back. Wasn’t this all just a one-time thing?

"I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious when I fucked you. What, you thought I nut and dip? That I shoot a load and go back on the road? That I cum n go?"

"Wow, please never use those euphemisms ever again." You cringed at his words, trying your best to hide the smile that crept on your lips.

"Christ, babe, you know I don't do one-night stands unless I’m really desperate. And here I thought you were my best friend. Guess I was wrong." Dante gasped, dramatically feigning offence by placing a hand on his chest.

"I’m not your best friend anymore." You said, voice serious and cold, and his charade was quickly replaced by actual worry and offence. "I'm your girlfriend now. And your best friend."

"Okay, I was genuinely concerned. Fuck you." He flipped you off and you sneered.

"You already did."

"Wait, that's my line!"

"Skill issue."

[h0useslut]

honey, i laugh when it sinks in ⟢

requests | masterlist

pairing : spencer reid x fem!reader

w/c : 3k

warnings : nsfw! explicit sexual content, light d/s dynamics, oral (f receiving), praise kink, mild spanking, orgasm denial-edging?, overstimulation, aftercare, softdom! spencer cause hell yeahhh, both spencer and reader are little shits

summary : reader gets turned on by spencer playing for the bau’s softball team. a few hits and some shameless eye-fucking later… yeah self control is out of the window!

a/n : this is my second attempt to write smut. had @feralforfrank proofread this!

Spencer had been fussing all week about what Derek had suggested to him.

“You’re gonna like this kid, I promise”

It echoed in his head like the set up to a very bad idea. He wasn’t made for that— playing any sport, let alone joining the BAU’s softball team.

He rambled all week about it— making you shut him up with a few kisses. Just enough to take his mind off it— and the ongoing case in Miami.

Now, standing at the edge of the field with the sun warming his face, Spencer’s nerves settled just a little— mostly because you were there.

You nudged him gently, a smile on your lips. He looked so hot today. Light purple shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows— exposing his hands. Your mouth practically frothed at the sight, but you tried to keep it cool. As if you weren’t in a room filled with the country’s best profilers.

“You got this Spence” you whispered, voice low enough for only him to hear.

“Only because you’re here” He smirked, gaze lingering on your lips just a little more than it should’ve.

Still made your stomach do flips.

You were so close to leaning forward— ready to steal a quick kiss, just a taste—until Derek shouted that it was time to play.

“Come on pretty boy, let’s kick some ass”

Spencer let out a breathy laugh, rolling his eyes but clearly grateful for the distraction. He gave your hand a quick squeeze before jogging off, glove tucked under one arm, curls bouncing with each step.

You watched him go, letting yourself stare at him for a moment too long. The way his shirt clung to his body, his back— and how he tried to tug the hem of it while it was still tucked under his pants. It made your heart throb in the best way.

With a soft sigh, you walked away from the field and onto the benches, sitting near the team.

Emily came closer to you, a devilish smile on her lips. “You gonna cheer him on, or keep undressing him with your eyes?”

Oh.

Oh, of course she noticed.

You gasped, swatting her arm playfully.

“Well, can’t I do both?”

“Fair enough” she chuckled, throwing her hands in defence.

The first inning passed in a blur of light heckling, scattered cheers, and way too many inside jokes flying around the dugout. Spencer stood out—not because he was particularly good, but because of how out-of-place-yet-endearing he looked trying to be good.

He swung the bat like it might break in his hands— and the first time the ball zipped past him, he gave Derek a puzzled look.

“You didn’t say it would be that fast” He muttered under his breath, pushing the fallen curls from his face.

“Come on, Spencer” Cheered the team from behind him, almost adding to his stress. But then he remembered— you were in the crowd as well.

With some miracle, and maybe your loud cheering— Spencer hit the ball on his second? third? try. The team erupted into cheers, while Derek ran to hug him tightly. He wore the biggest smile on his face like a dork— and god, you were falling for him all over again.

By the time the game was over, Spencer was red-faced, sweaty and the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

Dear lord.

You ran to him, a bottle of water in hand with a proud smile plastered on your face.

“You didn’t tell me you were secretly an athlete” you teased, handing the water to him.

He shook his head, breathing hard. “I’m not— my legs are going to fall off tomorrow”

“Still” you protested. “You were good, really good out there”

Fixing his posture, he inched closer to you. Smirking, his eyes flickered down your mouth again— with a little more intent.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were close again. The team was still lingering behind you, voices fading into the background. And maybe you meant to be good—but then his fingers brushed your wrist, warm and seeking, and you knew exactly where this was going the second you got him alone.

The minute you walked inside his apartment— the air shifted. It’s like both of you knew what would happen, even without saying a word.

Spencer was the first to speak, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. He stepped close, his slender fingers brushing a stray hair behind your ear— making you blush like a schoolgirl. Both of you felt the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull neither of you could resist.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day” He murmured, voice low.

Your breath hitched, “Me too”

“Is that so, sweetheart?” He teased, knowing you’d been needy for him, especially during the game.

You bit your lip, eyes flickering up to meet his. “Maybe”

His smirk deepened as his hand slid down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He traced soft— almost teasing circles on your skin, making you lose your mind. “You were staring at me the whole time, angel. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

“Well, you were pretty distracting” you admitted, voice dropping down a notch.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with something hungry, but tender. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight”

He cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek, and you melted into the touch. The space between you shrank until there was nowhere left to hide— until you felt his lips against yours.

It was slow— gentle at first. As if he was testing the waters. But as soon as he deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth— it became sloppy, messy.

Breathless as you were, you pulled back— just enough to look at him. Pupils dilated, dark and deep, reflecting the same way you felt bubbling beneath your skin.

The air between you was definitely thick, electric, and utterly changed.

“You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart” he whispered, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses on your neck— jawline, anywhere he could reach.

Your lips parted, a small whimper coming out from you as he kissed your sensitive skin. Your fingers found his shirt— tugging it.

“Show me” you breathed.

He paused his movements— only to kiss you with full force now, promising you everything and nothing at once.

Your hands were now tangled in his tousled hair— While he was guiding you backwards, slow steps until your knees hit the couch.

Your kisses weren’t gentle anymore. They were urgent, and consuming, his mouth hot against yours as his hands roamed your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

You barely had the time to gasp before he eased you down, one hand on your hip— pushing you down, while the other came to the side of your head, brushing the sweaty hair that clung to your forehead.

“Thought about this exact moment the entire time I tried to hit the ball” He murmured against your neck, earning a small moan from you.

His heat, the weight of his body— It was too much and not nearly enough at the same time.

“And now?” You asked, voice coming out choked up.

“I want you to say my name again, baby” he smiled against your skin, his hand sliding up your shirt.

His fingers grazed along your ribs as if he was memorising the feel of you.

You arched into his touch, a soft gasp escaping you as your hips instinctively shifted beneath him.

“Spencer” you whispered, breath shaky.

“That’s it” he praised, voice coming out barely above a whisper.

The hand on your hip tightened, grounding you as his other slipped beneath your bra—skin to skin now, and god, he was warm. Gentle, but firm. His thumb brushed over your nipple and you gasped again, the sound swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you fiercely, hungrily.

“This” He broke the kiss, tapping on your clothed chest— “has to go off”

You nodded, granting him permission to remove your shirt and bra. His touch was everywhere— Fingers brushing over your nipples at a slow, agonising pace while he kissed you fiercely.

He pulled back, breathless— only to focus his attention on your breasts. Lips pressing soft kisses that made you gasp and tugging your sensitive flesh till you writhed beneath him.

“You’re unreal” He spoke, voice strained.

You fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, growing more and more impatient— needing to feel his skin on yours. Once you’d pushed it off, your nails dragged lightly down his chest making him hiss.

''Need you'' you whispered, voice trembling.

“I’m right here, angel,” he said, eyes locked on yours, the sincerity in his voice making you throb in many, many places.

He ducked down to take one of your nipples into his mouth again, sucking gently while his hand teased the other—alternating between soft, open-mouthed kisses and just enough pressure to make you gasp.

And still, he took his time - like he wanted to savour every inch of you.

His lips trailed lower, till he found your clothed— and aching cunt. He let out a soft chuckle, seeing how you squirmed underneath him. You needed some friction, some relief. And he was a little shit teasing you.

“So eager” He tsked, his index finger sliding down the waistband of your pants. “You’ve been worked up since the first inning haven’t you, baby?”

You let out a sound— more like a whine mixed with a whimper. Hips arching in his touch, your voice came out strained— but trying to warn him.

“Spence, please”

You could beg all you want, he thought. Teasing you was his favourite new game.

He kissed the inside of your thighs, through the soft fabric of your pants, then nipped gently— enough to make you jolt. “Patience” he teased, fingers dipping inside the waistband, and finally pulling them down.

Slowly. Excruciatingly slow.

He peeled your pants down— gaze locked to the damp spot on your underwear.

“Oh,” he exhaled, soft breath hitting your aching clit. “Look what I do to you”

You were about to reply, something equally snarky and desperate— but he mouthed over your clothed core, hot breath and the barest pressure making you cry out.

“That’s not nearly enough, right baby?” He cooed mockingly, thumb coming along to tease on the edge of your underwear.

“Please” you moaned, hands flying to his curls.

That was all he needed. He rolled your underwear down, pressing a soft kiss to your knee when he spread you open again.

“It’s okay, I got you” he soothed, soft lips coming up to kiss your hot clit. Then finally— finally his tongue flattened against you, in a slow, devastating circle.

It almost made you see stars.

You let out tiny whimpers— ohs and ahhs filling up the room as he licked you.

“Use your words for me, angel girl. Come on” he murmured against your soaked cunt, his voice coming out sweet— like a promise.

“Need you,” you said, voice soft and breathy.

You were panting, back arching as he continued to kiss and lick you with maddening precision. His voice sent chills down your spine.

“Tell me what you need, sweetheart”

You whimpered, barely able to form any coherent sentences. But he didn’t stop— he just slowed down, tongue gentler now.

“Spencer— Oh—“ you moaned, hips jerking.

His hands found your stomach, holding you firmly down the couch.

“No, baby that’s not enough” He warned you, lips moving from your cunt and pressing featherlight kisses to your inner thigh.

You blinked, lips trembling as you struggled to speak. “I need you inside me” You finally spoke, voice thin and wrecked. “Need to feel you”

That stopped him in his tracks.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, darker than before— and pupils were blown. You watched as his throat bobbed, swallowing hard as if he was trying to keep it together.

“Yeah? he asked, wanting nothing more but to give you what you needed.

“Is that what you want, angel? Me inside you?” He said in a sultry voice— fingers caressing your skin, till they ran up and down your folds— spreading you open just how you liked.

“F-Fuck” You whispered, breath picking up.

“Language” He snapped, one finger pushing inside you with little to no warning.

You cried out, hips bucking as he inserted another finger inside you, stretching you out.

“Spence—“ You gasped, thighs trembling as his fingers curled just right inside you.

''Thought you wanted my cock, angel'' he drawled, a tinge of mockery in his tone. ''Can't even handle my fingers''

You clenched around him at that, which he noticed. He noticed every twitch of your body - every stuttering breath you took even if he was being a condescending asshole.

He could feel you getting closer, moans becoming a little louder as his thumb came on your clit, rubbing circles.

But then,

Then he pulled back. He removed his fingers, noticing how your head immediately shot up from the couch.

You gasped, muttering his name while your eyes widened with disbelief. ''Why did you-''

He just smirked, slow and dangerous as he removed his pants and boxers as well.

“Need to hear you beg properly” He whispered, “Thought you were being a little bratty, hm? Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him— cheeks flushed, lips parted. But the defiance in your gaze was still there.

“You’re evil” You whined, hands darting out to bring him closer to you. Your legs closed instinctively— nails digging softly into his shoulders.

He stopped you— pulling back just to spread your legs again, wide and open for him.

“I’ll give you what you want,” he whispered, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance, “But I need you to behave, alright my love?”

Your body practically buzzed under his touch—hot, stretched, aching. And your pride didn’t stand a chance.

“I’ll behave” you whispered, breathless.

He raised an eyebrow like he didn’t quite believe you.

Then he pushed in— slow, deliberate. Like he wanted you to feel every inch. He hiked up your leg higher, so he could push inside you. You gasped— hands flying to his back, digging in.

“Oh my god— baby” You moaned, feeling him everywhere. It stung— but it didn’t hurt.

“Fuck” he groaned, pulling out just to sink deeper inside you now. “You’re so tight, sweetheart”

He gave you just a moment to adjust before he started moving, hips rolling into yours with a rhythm that made your whole body arch. You were gasping already, moaning his name like a prayer—until your hips rolled up just a little too eagerly to meet his next thrust.

He stilled his movements.

You blinked at him— confused until his hand came down hard on your ass with a loud smack.

You yelped, body jolting as the sting bloomed warm across your skin.

“Spence—!“

“I said behave, baby,” He said, his hand now rubbing soothing circles on the skin he’d marked— making your eyes sting with tears of frustration.

He chuckled darkly against your shoulder, pressing a kiss there—soft, maddeningly gentle. “That was for lying,” he said simply. He pushed inside you again, this time a little slower— gentler than before. One hand anchored your thigh, while the other came to cradle your cheek, thumb wiping any excess of tears that had threatened to fall out.

“Atta girl” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours as he fucked you deeper, harder. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes again, and you tried to breathe— it was all too much. Not from the pain, but from feeling so full— so,

His.

You moaned his name, back arching— but not enough for him to punish you again. He wouldn’t do it now.

“You close?”

You nodded frantically, feeling the familiar heat pool inside your belly— making your muscles contract.

“Please—“ You cried out, clenching around him.

“Let go for me, baby, shh”

His thumb trailed down your body till he found your clit again— bringing you to the edge. It took you a little longer than you thought— but your body finally surrendered to his gentle but filthy ministrations.

Spencer rode you through your orgasm, chasing his high as well. When you cried out from the overstimulation, he slowed down— trying to soothe you before he pulled out.

Slumping on the couch beside you, he pressed a kiss on your forehead— silently praising you.

He looked down at you, eyes soft but his lips twitching with that familiar nervous energy.

“You know,” he started, voice low but hesitant, “did you know that the average human heart beats about 100,000 times a day?” He glanced up, waiting for your reaction.

You blinked, trying not to laugh as you caught his slight flush.

“Well, after all this,” he said, “mine’s probably done, like, ten thousand extra beats just now.”

He smiled shyly. “Which technically means, um, sex is good cardio? So I guess I just got my workout in.”

You shut him up with another kiss, making him chuckle against your lips.

“Did so good for me, angel” He whispered, caressing your back. “let me take care of you now”

He pulled you closer, arms wrapping around you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Eyes fluttering shut, you didn’t notice him moving around the apartment. He wore loose pants, shirtless— cloth in his hand. You swore you were dreaming, until the damp cloth hit your sensitive core, and you flinched from the touch.

“Shh, it’s okay. Just me, just wanna clean you up” He cooed, rubbing your thigh soothingly.

You let out a shaky breath, melting into his careful touch despite the sensitivity. His fingers traced slow circles on your hip as the warm cloth glided over your skin, wiping away the evidence of your shared heat.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, voice soft like a lullaby.

When he finished, he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, then pulled you even closer—body pressed to body, skin to skin.

“Can I stay like this for a while?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” Spencer promised, fingers threading through your hair as you drifted into a peaceful quiet, wrapped up safe in each other.

[jiminsafairy]

hit pause - jungkook (roomate!jungkook, cockwarming, fwb?)

summary: you should already know that movie night with your roommate jungkook always ends up turning into something more

pairing: roomate!Jungkook × reader

wc: ~ 1.8k

warnings: pwp, cockwarming, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, tit play.. free use? if you squint?

notes: this was requested! as always, English is not my first language! so excuse any mistakes

“Wanna watch something?” you ask, standing in the kitchen with a half-finished drink in your hand.

“Yeah. Pick whatever," your roommate Jungkook says from the living room. 

He's already on the couch, with his legs spread open and one arm thrown over the backrest. And in classic Jungkook fashion, he’s not wearing any shirt. His chiselled chest is on full display for the enjoyment of your eyes.

You walk over with the cup still in your hand. “Are you sitting in the middle?”

He nods. “And you’re sitting here” he says, patting his lap.

You raise a brow. “On your dick?”

“Yep.” he states, not even blinking. “Keep me warm while we watch the movie.”

You roll your eyes but you’re already setting your drink down on the coffee table and getting close to him. “So needy.”

“For you, pretty? Always” he laughs, tugging his sweatpants down just enough to free his half-hard cock. “Also, is that my shirt?” He grabs his cock and strokes it, but his eyes never leave you.

“It’s comfy” you excuse yourself.

“Mmmh.” He strokes himself lazily. “It looks better on you either way. Off with the shorts tho.”

You shimmy your shorts down and step out of them, taking your panties with them, naked now under the oversized tee. The fabric barely covers your ass.

“That’s better,” he mutters.

You turn around with your back facing him, and climb into his lap.“ Wait. Let me prep you.”

Jungkook’s fingers slide between your legs, stroking your clit with slow, practiced circles. You bite your lip, already arching into his touch.

“You’re wet,” he mutters, pushing two fingers into you without warning. You gasp, grabbing his wrist as he fucks you open.

“Almost there,” he says. “Then I’m putting my cock in this tight pussy.”

Your head falls back on his shoulder. He pumps his fingers faster, thumb flicking your clit until your hips jerk. His fingers work you fast, getting you wet and ready.

“Good?” he asks against your ear.

You nod quickly. “Yeah. Good.”

He pulls his hand back. You reach for his cock, lining him up against your pussy. “Fuck,” he mutters when he bottoms up.

You hum, reaching for the remote and pressing play. The screen lights up, some Avenger movie you have watched like a million times before, and you settle into him.

Jungkook’s hands go under your shirt and grab your tits, and you barely flinch because you know how much he loves your breasts. His thumbs brush against your nipples and you clench around his cock.

“Mmh, that feels good,” you mumble, head tilting back slightly, still looking at the screen.

“Yeah?” he answers softly, pinching your nipple. “Mmmh. Watch, Tony Stark is going to catch that guy playing Galaga ” he says, looking at the screen.

He keeps playing with your nipples. You stay quiet, and let him keep going. You try to pay attention to the movie, you really do, but when you feel his hips slowly move against yours you know what comes next.  “I thought we were watching the movie,” you say, not even trying to sound annoyed.

He laughs under his breath, still toying with your nipple. “We were,” he says, giving your tits another squeeze. “But then your tits got in the way. You expect me to focus with these in my hands?” He presses his hips up a little harder, making you gasp.

“You can pause it. We’ll finish it later.” He adds, peppering kisses over your shoulder.

You grab the remote and hit pause, and go back to lean against his chest again.. Your (his) shirt is now pushed up and bunched under your arms.

“Fuck…” he mutters close to your ear,“Your pussy feels so good.”

You press your back harder to his chest and let him fuck up into you while you sink down. “Mmm yeah… don’t stop.” You whisper.

“Trust me, pretty, stopping is not in my plans,” he says. You don’t see his face, but can almost hear the smile on his face. He gives you a deep thrust.

His right hand leaves your tit and goes south. You feel his fingers against your clit, caressing it with light pressure at first, but soon he starts rubbing harder.

“Shit,” you whimper, hips twitching. “Just like that, fuck!”

He keeps with his rhythm. His thick cock drags inside you, hitting that stop that makes you feel so good. Mixed with his hand rubbing your clit, you know your climax is near.

“Feels good?” he says, a little out of breath now.

“Mmmm…so good. F-fuck, Jungkook. I’m close.”

“I got you, pretty” he says, kissing the side of your neck. “Just let go.”

His finger gets rougher against your clit and his cock keeps slamming hard your insides until you cannot hold it anymore. You cum with your mouth half open, and your eyes shut between cries of pleasure. He doesn’t stop right away, letting you clench around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers after a second.

You’re still pulsing around him, your thighs twitching. He remains quiet for a moment, but then he shifts under you, and his hips pull back just a bit, and then he slams against you again, harder and faster this time. His cock, sleek with your juices, slides in and out easily.

“Shit,” he breathes out. “Do you feel that? How are you squeezing me?”

“Mhm. Keep going.” And you can bet he does.

He groans behind you, and his forehead drops to your shoulder. Putting one arm around your waist he holds you in place. His other hand is still on your tit, but he’s not playing with your nipples anymore, too focused on his own pleasure.

“Fuck… where?” he asks, you feel the neediness in his voice. “Tell me.”

You swallow, still fucked-out. “Inside.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Fill me up.” And that is what he needed to send him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck! Pretty, I’m gonna cum.”

Thrusting one last time, he spills into you, painting your walls white and his cock buried all the way inside. His head drops against your shoulder and lets out a laugh. His arm stays around your waist and neither of you move.

After a few quiet seconds, he blinks at the screen. “so… we are watching or what?”

You hum, half-gone. “Play it.”

He grabs the remote, cock still inside you, cum still dripping warm between your thighs.

His hands are back to your tits, his fingers brushing your nipples. “mmm these tits..I love them. Ditch the shirt,” he says, tugging at the fabric bunched around your ribs. “What’s the point if it’s already up here?”

His hand slides under it again.  “Just wanna feel you properly.”

You sigh, amused, but lift your arms anyway. He helps you pull the shirt off..  “There we go,” he says, both hands going right back to your chest, like he never left. “Much better. Fuck. Pretty, you’re so fucking soft,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I swear to God I could stay like this all day.”

You lean back into him with a little hum, skin to skin now.  His cock stays inside you, and you feel it twitching every so often. You shift a little, trying to get more comfortable. Your thighs are sticky, but you don’t really care.

He hums behind you, mouth at your neck. “You good?”

You nod, eyes on the screen. “Yep.”

Twenty minutes pass, maybe more. You’re zoned out, barely following the movie when you feel it. A light twitch, followed by another, and you know that his cock is starting to get hard again inside you. 

You glance back over your shoulder, smirking. “Seriously?”

He doesn’t even look at you. Shrugging, his eyes never leave the screen “Mmmh. It’s because of Black Widow. She’s hot.” You roll your eyes, but your hips already start moving.

You feel him swelling, thickening more with every soft little shift of your hips. Your pussy’s still slick. His hand slides down to your waist again and starts rocking up his hips.

Jungkook’s cock drags out slowly, slides back in even slower but this time hitting a different spot inside you. You cannot control the moans.

“That good?”

You nod, eyes still on the screen. “Fuck. Yes. Don’t stop.”

He thrust up again, making you moan even louder. Fucking into you with slow but hard thrusts, the movie still going in the background. Moaning softly, you tilt your head back, and his mouth finds your neck. His warm lips place a few kisses on your skin. 

“Mmm… Go a bit harder.” Not saying anything, Jungkook shifts under you and grips your waist a bit tighter, thrusting again.  You exhale and your hips rock back against his. “Fuck…” you mumble, barely loud enough to hear over the movie.

His cock presses deep, fills you all the way up, and then pulls out just enough to do it again, hitting that sweet spot.

“Shit. Don’t stop, don’t stop! ”

He groans behind you, teeth grazing your neck again. “Yeah? Right there?”

You nod fast. “Fuck, yes. Feels so good.”

You clamp down around him so tight he swears. “Fuck… you’re so fucking tight. Shit.”

“Can I - fuck…” he starts, “Can I cum inside again?”

Not being able to speak, you just let a soft moan out, nodding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna fill you. Fuck!” And he does, warmth spreading between your legs all over again. His arms wrap tight around your waist while both of you reach your climax.

You just melt into him, letting him fill you. For a moment both of you stay quiet, just your heavy breathings can be heard. His cum is dripping out of you again, making your thighs sticky, but honestly you couldn't care less. 

Jungkook lets out a laugh “God. We’re disgusting.”

You grin, eyes barely open. “Yeah. Whatever.”

A few seconds pass. The movie’s still playing in the background, long past the point where either of you left off. You glance at the screen, squinting. “We missed, like, twenty minutes.”

He groans, grabs the remote from where it’s wedged between the couch cushions, and starts skipping back. “Ugh. Worth it.”

“You’re leaking all over me,” he mutters when his cum leaks onto his thighs.

“Your fault,” you murmur, head tilted against his. “You’re the one that couldn’t help himself.”

“Help me clean up?”

 “Let’s stay like this a bit longer.”

You snort. “You just don’t wanna pull out.”

“Exactly,” he grins, shameless. “It feels too good like this.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t argue. His cock is still buried inside you, softening slowly. You feel his cum warm between your thighs, his hands cupping your tits again, his chest against your back, and there’s something weirdly comforting about it.

“Besides,” he adds, kissing your shoulder and giving your tits a soft squeeze, “if we wait a little… It'll probably be hard again.”

You huff out a laugh, leaning back into him, knowing a round 3 is just around the corner.

[emisluvr]

‎ 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗦𝗘⠀✦⠀𝗣.𝗦𝗛

박성훈 as your bf that you suck awake ! ⭑ ── wc. 707 ୨ৎ mature drabble ✧ w. smut ( 18+ mdni! ) , oral sex , explicit language , hair pulling , light choking

‎ ꒰◞ ˕ ◟୨୧꒱ REBLOGS + FB !

the soft glow of morning sunlight filters through the blinds, shining over sunghoon's sleeping form. he's lying flat on his back, his body stretched out lazily, one arm draped over his forehead. his toned abs peek beneath his shirt, slightly lifted in his sleep, accentuating his v-line as his sweatpants hang loose, practically begging to be pulled down.

gosh, he looks so good, even in his sleep. a little too good, and your wetness starts pooling in your panties, just from the sight of him and every little feature. your eyes lock on the evident rise of his cock pressing up against his sweatpants, like it wants to be free.

you move on the shared bed, settling right in between his sprawled-out legs. gently, you tug his sweatpants down, careful not to wake him—yet. his cock springs free, close to your face. you press your lips together, staring at him for a moment, unable to stop yourself.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to take him right then and there. how could you not? his cock was quite literally a work of art, bright and proud in your face, screaming to be inside you.

your lips wrap around the tip, licking up any pre-cum that’s already there. you hum at the salty taste, your tongue flicking over his sensitive head, collecting every drop. the sound of him groaning in his sleep makes you go slower, savoring every inch, every second. your mouth slowly takes all his inches in, working yourself up and down his length.

your eyes slightly widen when you feel a hand on the back of your head, gently but firmly pushing your head down further on his cock. "fuck, angel.." he groans, eyes still shut, his voice thick and sleepy as he lays there and lets you suck him.

his hand doesn't let go, guiding you deeper, pushing you to take more of him. his cock hits the back of your throat, slightly choking you. you go faster, eager to bring him closer to the edge. your mouth works on him, your lips pulling away just enough to tease, then taking him all the way back down, your tongue swirling around his base.

the moans and grunts he lets out get louder, more desperate, and you can tell he's completely lost in the pleasure. "fuck..." he groans again, gripping your hair tighter as you continue to suck him, feeling him twitch in your mouth. his body jerks slightly, as if he’s trying to fight the growing sensation, but he can’t, and you know it.

you speed up again, the rhythm of your head bobbing matching the desperation you’re feeling. his cock hits the back of your throat again and again, your mouth getting wetter, drool dripping down your chin as the sound of your sucking fills the room.

his fingers tug tighter on your hair with each groan he lets out, "sh-shit, so good... gonna cum." his voice cracks with the intensity, and you can feel his cock twitch again, his breathing shallow as he fights to hold back his orgasm.

but you don’t stop. you increase the pressure, your tongue pressing against the sides of him, feeling every vein as you go down on him again. you want him to lose it, want him to fall apart in your mouth, and you know you’re about to get him there.

you feel him twitch once more before the warm, salty release fills your mouth. his cock pulses against your tongue, and you swallow it down eagerly, feeling the hot liquid slide down your throat.

he lets out a low moan, eyes still closed as his body relaxes against the bed. "swallow, baby," he murmurs, and you do just that, licking your lips as you take every drop he gives you.

you pull away slowly, eyes meeting his, watching him stir just enough to lift his head. a lazy smirk plays on his lips as he stretches, letting out a satisfied groan. he pulls you up to kiss him, tasting the remnants of himself on your tongue.

has this become his favorite way of waking up? yes. will he repay you by eating you out the next morning? oh, without a doubt.

© emisluvr 2025. all rights reserved.

[tojifiles]

LET’S HAVE THE SEX TALK, AY ⭑ .ᐟ

syn ⊹. in which teaching your 150y/o curse boyfriend the ways of the human life (and pleasure) goes surprisingly smooth.

cont ⊹. choso kamo x fem! reader, virgin!choso, oral (giving and receiving), premature ejac, afab!reader, NSFW CONTENT minors dni!!! wc: 1k

a/n⊹. virgin choso save me virgin choso 🙏 i wanted to post this since its been sitting in the drafts for so long omg

“baby, somethin- something’s wrong wit’ me. . .”

the half-curse invokes from your bedroom, his anxious timbre making you rush hurriedly down the hall—only to find him sat on the edge of your shared bed, blushing profusely with a small throw pillow covering his crotch.

ohhh.

you and choso had been together for about 6 months now, yet the two of you never had any sexual encounters, due to the fact that you wanted him to become more adjusted to human life before trying anything. but now with this certain issue at bay, you decided it was finally time.

you took a deep breath before recollecting yourself, taking a cushiony seat next to him, and explained to your boyfriend that what he was experiencing was utterly normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

"jus' make it stop, please. ."

oh, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

and before you know it, you’re gravitating yourself lower, closer and closer towards his obviously growing erection. even through his pajama pants you can see how big he is. and you sure as hell weren’t wrong.

your lips form a perfect ‘o’ shape once he’s completely out of his boxers. an angry red mushroomed tip that’s practically dripping already— crystalline beads of pre down to his hefty pale base thats accented with a vein or two. and to think this was here the whole time…

“i-is something wrong?” choso inquires, a hint of worry in his tone. shifting your gaze upward, you could see his averted gaze and beet red cheeks from sheer embarrassment. you giggled softly, he was so cute when he was flustered.

“nuh uh, everything’s perfect. now, im going to do something, n’ you tell me if it feels good or not. okay?”

he swallows, before nodding eagerly in agreement, still averting his eyes from your figure below. lolling your tongue out, you licked a long warm stripe from the base to that oh-so sensitive tip of his. a poorly stifled moan could be heard from above as choso’s clawing at the downed sheets behind him, instantly stiffening up from this foreign euphoria.

"f-feels s’good," and he’s gasping out between breaths, eyes fluttering shut out of pure ecstasy. you smile around his cock, lips instinctively wrap around his sensitive head— giving small kitten licks before gradually taking more of him into your mouth. choso's hips begin to jerk up involuntarily as you begin stroking him with your tongue, the heat of your mouth making him twitch inside. a delicate hand of his finds its way entangled inside of your hair, holding you in place as if he’s beginning to lose himself completely, giving in to the bliss.

choso's resounding moans become more and more frequent as you work your way down, taking more of him into your mouth with each pass. his hips beginning to thrust upwards, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head.

he dares to open his eyes— and that was his biggest mistake.

seeing you on your knees, eyes virtually glowing with pure lust in this low lighting, gazing up at him ever so tenderly yet seductively. taking him down your throat with little to no effort, god it was enough to make him-

“sh-shiitt!” and ropes of his warm essence are rudely painting the back of your throat as he’s spasming in your mouth, cum trickling down onto your tongue when he pulls out. his breathing is still uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly as he’s trying to recover while you’re sitting pretty with a coy grin plastered on your face. “how was that, cho? did it fee—”

“w-wanna try it on you… please?”

and now the roles are reversed, your legs hooked over his shoulders as he’s kneeling infront of your bare cunny.

he leans in, warm breath tickling against your inner thighs, nervously dangling his tongue out before swiftly flicking it just on your clitoris, causing you to groan.

and that first taste has him hooked. he latches himself onto the bud of your clit, similarly to how you did moments prior. it’s barely been seconds and he’s delved nose-deep into your wetness. he wasn’t all that sure about what he was doing, but telling from the way you were so vocal, mantras of his name echoing throughout his ears, he was doing a damn good job.

there was that feeling yet again— that strain in his boxers as his crotch pooled with a familiar warmth. he looked down and sure enough, there was again a strained tent pitched in his pants.

and his body's moving faster than his mind, his hand’s already snaked down to his boxers, palming himself through the cottony fabric. muffled guttural groans evading through parted lips as he’s drinking up your candily sweet juices, all while his hand’s wrapped around his stiffened length. trying so hard to replicate the sensation of your warm, wet mouth that was just present moments ago.

hips stuttering in sync with his rhythms, as your hand is engulfed in his ravenated strands, broken cacophonous moans of his name string from your mouth as your grinding along the heat of his tongue—leaving your pussy drooling, glassy slick dripping down the man's coated chin.

"haah—ch-cho, doin' so good..." your praise only riles him up even more, his pace picking up, becoming more and more lost in a daze. tongue darting in and out of your cunt with quick precision, teasing every sensitive spot it managed to find.

you feel your stomach tightening, the creeping sensation of your climax approaching ever so hurriedly. and it hits you like a crashing wave as one final thrust from choso’s tongue puts you right over the edge, body shuddering as it washes over you.

he can’t hold back much longer either as his cock is aching. and with a few last frantic, sloppy jerks, he finally pulls away from your cunt as loads of his cum spill into his boxers.

gasping for air himself, he looks up at you through strands of his sweaty hair before proposing the question that makes even your worn-out expression morph into something much more fitting— shocked, if you will.

“c-can we go again?”

ssorenz™ 2024, do not repost, translate or copy.

[plethorawrites]

How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.

TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.

Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce:

The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.

He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.

When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.

But you did.

He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.

Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.

You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.

He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.

He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.

He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.

You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.

When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.

You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.

You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.

He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.

---

Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.

He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.

He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.

He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.

He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.

Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.

He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."

Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."

When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.

Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.

You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.

You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.

When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.

Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."

---

Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.

But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.

It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.

He blames himself entirely.

He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.

After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.

He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.

The knives in the kitchen? Gone.

Even the butter knives are plastic now.

The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.

Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.

He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.

He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.

While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.

Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.

He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.

He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."

---

Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.

He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.

You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.

He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.

Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.

The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.

When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.

He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.

---

(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)

Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.

It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.

You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.

He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.

Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.

He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.

He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.

And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.

One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, doggy style, creampie, blowjob, rough s*x

Summary: you and Bakugo went camping, and you couldn’t believe your new shorts were enough to turn the big guy on so quickly

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

As the golden hues of dusk began to settle over the campsite, the thrill of a shared adventure coursed through your body, amplified by the excitement that Katsuki, your usually so gruff boyfriend, had agreed to this escapade into the wild. 

It wasn't his idea of a perfect getaway, but the hint of adventure and the rugged trails appealed to his untamed spirit, and that was enough to tilt his decision.

Preparations for the trip unfolded over several days. You meticulously selected a new tent, sleeping bags, and all the essentials needed for survival in the embrace of nature. The excitement bubbled within you, and each item was a promise of the memories you were about to create together.

Upon arrival at the campground, a place chosen for its variety of trails, Bakugo’s eyes - those intense, crimson orbs - surveyed the land with a tactical gaze, as if plotting each step he would conquer on the morrow. 

You began setting up the tent, fumbling slightly with the steel profiles. "Kats, could you help me with these?" you asked, trying not to get distracted by his scrutinizing look.

With a gruff nod, Bakugo joined you, his hands adept and sure as he assisted with the tent. "Why don't you start on the fire?" he suggested, his tone brusque but not unkind. "Seems like something you can handle, babe."

You set about gathering dry wood, arranging stones in a careful circle to cradle the fledgling flames you would soon coax to life.

When Bakugo watched you light the fire with practiced ease, a rare smile broke across his face. "Well, well, look at you. I'm starting to think you're a pro at this," he remarked, the rough pad of his thumb brushing a smudge of dirt from your cheek as he approached you.

His compliment warmed you more than the fire, and soon you were searching through your backpack for marshmallows, a sweet treat to end the day. "Hungry?" you asked, glancing back at him.

Bakugo's eyes lingered on you, particularly drawn to the curve of your hips and ass accentuated by your new shorts. “I like your new shorts,” he commented casually, completely skipping the question you asked.

Your cheeks heated under his gaze, and you turned to face him fully. "Do you? They're just material shorts."

"Which hug your ass so nicely," he growled softly, his hand finding its way to your lower back and pulling you closer. 

You gasped, turning fully to face him, arms looping around his neck as he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his hips for stability. "Did my shorts turn you on that much, babe?" you teased, feeling his breath against your ear.

His only response was a husky, affirmative grunt as he carried you towards the tent. 

Soon, you lay back on the sleeping bag, Bakugo hovering above, his lips tracing a path along your neck. His hands slipped under your t-shirt, discovering with a pleased murmur that you weren’t wearing anything underneath. "Aren't you being a naughty little shit today?" His voice was rough with arousal.

"You know I like it when you put me in my place," you murmured back, rolling your hips against his, your hands deftly working to remove his clothes.

Bakugo responded with equal fervor, his movements urgent as he shed his layers. 

Overwhelmed by a primal urge, you found yourself driven by raw desire, pushing him off yourself and kneeling between his spread thighs. Your tongue darted out, tracing fervent circles around the swollen tip of his penis, the taste of the faint bitterness of your boyfriend’s arousal causing you to moan in delight.

Katsuki began to guide the rhythm, his hips gently grinding forward. The motion coaxed your lips apart, accommodating him fully as he nudged against the welcoming gate of your throat. With each advance, you adjusted, your throat opening to invite him deeper, your initial gag reflex swiftly giving way to a consuming need to take him all in. The feel of his throbbing length, coupled with your swirling tongue, sent vibrations along his shaft, and Katsuki rolled his head back.

You yanked one leg around his one leg to improve your position and started grinding your slick pussy against his knee.

“Fuck, yeah,” the man growled. The sensation was nearly unbearable. Known for his fiery temperament and fierce control, here he was, surrendering to the pleasure you elicited with your little expert ministrations. His pace quickened. The sensation of sliding in and out of your snuggly throat, the slick, rhythmic tightness you provided, pushed him to the edge.

The build-up was intense, his body tightening, a crescendo of raw energy that demanded release. With a guttural cry, he reached the brink. Bakugo’s release was rich, a surge of warmth that he felt from the base of his spine to the tip of his cock while his creamy essence spilled forth in a rush of exhilarating release, filling your mouth and dripping from its corners to your naked neckline.

With a swift motion, he yanked your head off him by your hair and pushed you flat against the sleeping bag. He knelt behind you, spanked your ass a few times, and cupped your cheeks, spreading them to watch your gaping hole, slick with your juices. “Such a whore you are,” Bakugo mused, and aligned himself with your entrance, and the world fell away as he entered you with a single powerful thrust. His presence inside you was overwhelming, a perfect fit that stretched you deliciously.

Your breath caught in your throat, the sensation overwhelming. "Katsuki..." you gasped, your fingers digging into the sleeping bag.

He set a rhythm, each thrust deeper than the last, his groans mixing with your gasps. "I love fucking my sexy girl raw," he confessed, his voice barely above a growl as his hips pistoned in yours. His rock hard cock plunged deep into you with a relentless rhythm. 

You met each of his thrusts with an eager push back, your vaginal muscles clenching around his cock in a delicious squeeze that drew a low groan from his lips. Each movement you made was synchronized with his, a dance of desire that had you both teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You played with the limits of sensation, allowing the tip of his dick to nearly escape your snuggly pussy before sliding back down, pressing your ass against his abdomen tightly. Your hips gave a gentle, teasing twerk, enhancing the friction and intensifying the pleasure that thrummed through every nerve of his.

Each powerful thrust forced a sharp gasp from your lips, his rhythm unabating, as if he were carving his desire into your very being. His movements weren't just fervent - they were meticulously measured to break down every barrier you possessed. Each retreat was only a brief prelude to another overwhelming advance, sending ripples through you. The slick, warm precum trickled out of your abused, swollen pussy whenever he pushed back.

Each thrust stole the breath from your lungs, reducing your voice to ragged gasps and involuntary whimpers, as you were rendered pliant under his commanding touch, your body moving with his like a leaf caught in a storm.

“Fuck yeah, just like that, I’m gonna cream your sweet cunt, bitch,” Bakugo's voice was a husky growl, vibrating through the dense air of the tent. His hand landed with a resounding smack against your ass, the sting blooming across your skin.

His words were crude but thrilling, spoken with the certainty of a man on the brink of conquering, his every word as impactful as his movements, promising a culmination that would leave you both shattered.

When the climax overtook you, it was with a shout of his name, your world bursting into a kaleidoscope of sensation. Even as waves of pleasure overwhelmed you, a part of your mind remained acutely aware, sensing the potent surges of Katsuki's climax deep within your abused pussy. You discovered muscles you never knew you had - working on your boyfriend’s cock, pulsing, squeezing and milking him dry.

His muscles ripped and his thrusts became sloppy. Soon, Katsuki shuddered and expelled bolts of thick, warm semen, giving you one of the best creampies you had ever had. “Take all of my seed, bitch,” the man growled, massaging the meat of your ass. “Such a good, little whore.”

After he withdrew, he once again spread your ass, observing your mixed cums leak out of your reddened, swollen entrance. A satisfied, almost wicked grin spread across his face, reflecting a raw, triumphant pleasure.

Afterward, as you both lay catching your breath, Bakugo's arm wrapped protectively around you, his voice was tender. "I love you, Y/N."

"Love you too, Kats. I think I should wear these shorts more often if this is how you react."

Bakugo’s laugh was a sound you’d treasure forever. “Just wait until I get my hands on you again. You’re mine, Y/N, and I'll show you just how wild I can get.”

@pixelcafe-network

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝.

you and shadow cuddle up in a flower field. (after some persuasion)

A SIDE • B SIDE

☂︎ w/c. 650

☂︎ a/n. sorry for the all lowercase, i didnt care too much to capitalize while writing (wont happen again, i promise!) im a little rusty when it comes to writing for shadow, sorry if he's ooc

he’s already looking for you, isn’t he?

you can feel him among the flowers, petal after petal swaying with the wind, finding their way to graze across his cheeks, to the very tips of his quills. his ear twitches at the sound of your distinct chuckle, revealing your hiding spot to your ever persistent admirer.

“were you trying to hide?” he calls out from afar, footsteps trampling over the soft blossoms upon noticing you, until he takes notice and decides to soften his steps, avoiding the flowers the best he can.

“hmph.” he exhales softly, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he sees your cheeky smile. that firm facade of his is already falling to pieces. “are you trying to taunt me?” his usually stern expression softens, not yet a smile, but the corners of his lips twitch as you stretch your arms up high, noticing the silly, yet adorable scrunching of your expression.

something always stirs inside him when he looks at you, even from afar. a sweet sense of familiarity despite how stressful the world can be.

unlike any other feeling he’s ever had.

shadow kneels down beside you, his gloved hand running across the flower petals around your waist, taking the time to drag his fingertips across your stomach. his ear flicks once he snaps out of his trance of admiring you, retracting his hand back as he clears his throat.

“come on. get up and lets go.” his harsh words mean nothing at the fault of his actions, his hand cupping your cheek gently to turn it in his direction. you can see the admiration in his eyes, despite his demanding tone.

you lazily raise your hand, waving it around as a signal for him to tug you up. he lets out a louder sigh than usual, but rises up onto his feet and takes your hand, briefly running his thumb across your knuckles. his lips part to say something else, but you interrupt him with one last attempt to beckon him to your side upon the flower field. his neutral expression sours into a scowl.

“there’s no point in trying to convince me.”

oh well. you huff frustratingly at his words. but there's nothing else to do but give up on his stubbornness.

… no, not at all. you’re not one to give up just like that in the eyes of your lover.

“no, i’m not wasting my-” his eyes widen, the stars and light flower petals illuminated within his irises as you tug him down, grasping him tight on his wrist. the cool feeling from his inhibitor ring hits your palm, but is replaced by his wonderful warmth shortly after, running your fingertips across his quills as your lover squirms within your grasp, displeased. after his incessant complaints and attempts to break free, his demeanor seems to calmen, still apprehensive, but at least he lets you brush your fingers through his quills, his head resting on your chest after a few minutes of this.

your lips part to utter sweet nothings to your lover, but his finger extends to poke you in the cheek briefly, shutting you up with the sudden gesture. he doesn’t look up to meet you in the eye, preferring the sound of your heartbeat.

“don’t.” he says plainly, his voice rough as usual, but his body relaxes once he snuggles up to nook his face into the crook of your neck. he practically melts into your touch, the rest of his face covered by the flowers. he’s flustered. “just… five more minutes, then i’m taking you home.” it’s somewhat pleasing to see him so shy.

your mouth spreads out into a wide grin. five more minutes is more than enough. and all shadow can do is sigh, completely and utterly taken by the person you are.