#and I still can’t get him out of my fucking head ever

[evanbi-ckley]

He feels like he’s being weighed down. Like he’s under water or a heavy blanket. His limbs are heavy, and he can’t get his eyes to open. There’s muffled sound nearby, but he can’t make out anything coherent. He’s also really warm. Uncomfortably so.

Is this what death is like? Is he in Hell? Or something Hell-adjacent? Were all the fire and brimstone idiots he refused to give the time of day actually right about something?

But then the heat is gone and there’s a cool breeze that skims across his skin.

Does he have skin? Do people feel their skin once they’re dead?

He’s still debating with himself as he gets pulled further under.

~***~

What is that annoying, repetitive sound? Did he change his alarm? Why the fuck can’t he turn it off?

~***~

It hurts.

Why does it hurt?

He can’t even tell what hurts, but something fucking hurts.

If he could just open his eyes and get up to take some ibuprofen.

Also his nose itches. Why can’t he fucking scra-

~***~

“Fucking bees.”

~***~

He’s warm again, but it’s not uncomfortable this time. 

He feels safe. And alive. 

He doesn’t feel as weighed down anymore.

It’s difficult, but he cracks his eyes open. He’s - in the hospital? That’s definitely a hospital ceiling and hospital lights and hospital machines beeping.

He turns his head to the left - slowly - and sees his arm is in a giant cast. That explains why he can’t lift it.

He turns his head to the right just as slowly. He’s surprised to see a head of curly hair lying next to his hip, a large hand in his own. 

When he flexes his hand, the curly head pops up immediately.

The man looks at him with bloodshot eyes that clearly haven’t seen sleep in days. He’s young - not alarmingly so but certainly younger than Tommy. The stubble on his jaw has gone far past 5 o’clock shadow and has entered the realm of beard, making him look slightly older. But who -?

“Tommy?” the man asks. His voice is low and raspy, possibly unused.

“Uh,” Tommy says. His own voice sounds even worse.

Without hesitation, the man turns - without letting go of Tommy’s hand - and pours a cup of water from the pitcher on the table next to the bed. Then he brings the cup up to Tommy’s mouth, a bendy straw pointing toward him.

Tommy drinks slowly, his mouth feeling like parchment that’s been left out in the sun too long. 

“Thanks,” he says.

The man sets the cup down and says, “Yeah, so um, h-how do you feel?”

He thinks for a bit, taking stock of himself.

“Sore. Numb in places. I assume they’ve got me on the good stuff?” The man nods, a cute smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “But there’s also the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sitting next to me, holding my hand. So all told, I’m doing pretty well.”

The tips of the man’s ears turn pink, and a cute blush spreads across his cheeks. Adorable.

“You don’t have to flirt so hard, Tommy. You should know by now, I’m a sure thing.”

Ah, so -

“So we’re,” Tommy gestures vaguely with his head, “together?”

“Uh,” the man laughs uncertainly, “for about six months now, yeah.”

“Oh.” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re so…” He trails off, not really knowing where he was going with that.

“So…what?” the man prods.

“Take your pick,” Tommy says. “Young? Pretty? Out of my league?”

“Sweetheart.” The man says it like they’ve had this discussion before, but he’s smiling. “Don’t try to amnesia your way out of being with me. I called dibs forever after our second date.”

Tommy smiles lazily. “Dibs forever, huh?”

“Yep. You’re stuck with me.”

Humming as if he’s considering the pros and cons, Tommy finally says, “I guess I can live with that.”

The man’s smile is blinding. “Evan,” he says. “Evan Buckley. In case you forgot.”

It comes back to him then - a cruise ship rescue in the middle of a hurricane, a basketball game, a kiss, a first date that ended terribly, more dates that ended perfectly, slow dancing in the kitchen, long nights together that ended too soon. A call during a bad storm, total engine failure, glass and fear and rain and acceptance and trees and blue eyes and a smile like warm sunshine.

“Evan,” Tommy says, pulling him closer. “Baby.” He kisses him softly. “I love you more than anything. How could I forget?”

Evan has tears in his eyes and leans their foreheads together when he says, “Don’t ever do that again. I thought I lost you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I thought so, too. I thought I’d never get to see you again. I’m so sorry.”

The next kiss is wet with tears - Evan’s or his own, it doesn’t matter. They’re here, and they’re both okay, and they’re together. That’s all that matters.

“I love you, too, by the way,” Evan says once they pull apart. “Can’t believe you waited to tell me until after you almost died, but I’ll take it.”

“I’ll say it every day until I actually die, okay?” he says. He gets a smack to his good shoulder for his effort, but they’re smiling too hard for it to have any weight.

There’s a long road ahead with recovery and therapy and stubbornness and frustration, but they’ve got this. They’ll get through it all. 

Together.

part 1

part 2

part 3

also now on ao3!

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[warlocksoup]

into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu

volume one, chapter one: emails

word count: 2.1k

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

I know about him.

Teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she stares down at her laptop screen. At the same email she’s been staring at for the last three days, ever since she first got the notification for it on her subway ride home. From ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com: I know about him. To anyone else, it might not bear the same weight. To her, it’s suffocating.

She’s done everything she can to try and trace it. Everything she can, of course, being Googling the address and enlisting the help of Yachi from the IT department at the Bugle. The outcome of the former being: Your search - ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com- did not match any documents, and the outcome of the latter being Yachi’s entire laptop getting infected with malware.

So, not great.

She shifts on the stiff stuffing of her couch, legs crossed under her and the heat from the bottom of her laptop on the bare skin of her thighs. I know about him. She hopes it’s a bluff. Realistically, she knows it’s not. But she’s still in the denial stage.

The screen goes dark, and she wiggles her mousepad to brighten it up once more, just so she can stare longer. She can’t tell him. Not yet. Ideally, not ever. But definitely not yet.

“What are you doing?”

She jolts, automatically slamming her laptop shut as she does so and jumping to face the source of the intrusion.

Spider-Man’s in her living room.

Which is fair. It’s his living room too, even if she does pay the lion’s share of the rent.

“Porn,” is her immediate response and the only thing she can think of to justify her reaction, even if it makes her cheeks burn. “Watching porn,” she doubles down, because she has to.

He reaches behind his head and grabs the end of his mask that sits at the back of his neck, pulling it off in one swift movement. Nishinoya looks at her with his hair flattened against his forehead, blond streak brushing against his brow, and a blossoming, deep purple purse spread across his cheek. “In the living room? Well, I guess I am home early, so can’t complain there.”

She pushes her the laptop off to the couch, and stalks towards him, eyes now fixed on the bruise that stains his features. “And what the fuck happened to you?”

Noya grins at her, bright and unfazed. Almost proud, like his injuries are a badge of honor. “Just ran into my good friend Alexei Sytsevich. He was super stoked to see me.”

Her hand shoots out and takes hold of his jaw, lightly squishing the soft flesh of his cheek together as she tilts his head to the side, trying to get a better look at the damage. Noya just stands there and lets her. “Thought that guy was in jail.”

“Broke out,” Noya says, words barely making it out between his smooshed-up lips. She releases him, and steps back. “He loves breaking out of jail. It’s like his favorite thing to do.”

Noya steps back, and retreats into his bedroom, closing the door with his foot as he does so. Still, she can hear his voice coming through their thin, plaster walls. “I don’t even know what that guy’s end game is anymore. I’m pretty sure he just wants me dead. It’s always like, ‘this is your end, Spider!’ when before he was a lot more focused on his personal goals, so.” 

She sighs and collapses back onto the couch again. Freak emails from freak strangers with untraceable email addresses and Sytsevich breaking out of jail for the thousandth-fucking-time to wreck his havoc on Noya’s face. Her hair is going to start turning gray. “You’d think they would’ve built a cell to hold him, by now,” she calls, and Noya is swinging open his bedroom door to saunter back out into living room, suit abandoned in favor of old gym shorts and a vintage looking Godilla t-shirt. “What do you think costs more taxpayer dollars, building a better cell, or paying all those cops to get him back in again?”

Noya rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m the one they call, and they don’t pay me, so.”

That she knows all too well. It’s hard, being a single-income home. Since Noya’s full time job is both incredibly demanding and also unpaid, rent and utilities and groceries mostly fall on her shoulders. Which, it’s not like she can complain or hold it against him. In exchange, he’s the one and only Spider-Man, and she could do worse for roommates.

And he helps when he can, selling candid photos of Spider-Man to the Bugle so they can use them to accompany their hit pieces on him (Noya, of course, finds it incredibly ironic every time they write out a check to him, gleefully paying him for photos of himself).

Noya flicks on the kitchen light, and as he’s lingering in the kitchen, popping open the fridge door with his hip to stare blankly at its contents, she grabs at her laptop once more, opening it back up so she can stare at the email once more. “Do you wanna get a pizza tonight? Some guy gave me a twenty for saving his car from the Rhino’s path.”

“Twenty?” she echoes back, fingers hovering over the reply button. Should she reply? What would she even say? Her Internet safety training at work taught her to never reply to spam emails, just to report it to the system administrator. But looping in the Bugle on an email like this is the last thing she wants. “Seems kinda cheap for saving his entire car.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Noya calls back, closing the fridge. He flicks his wrist in the direction of the living room, and string of white web following it. It attaches itself to the side of a crinkled up, plastic water bottle she was drinking, and before she can blink, the water bottle finds itself in Noya’s hand.

“Dick,” she says, without looking up from her computer. “I was drinking that.”

“Can you look at your porn later? Do you want the pizza or not?”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Between them is a half-eaten box of pepperoni pizza, propped open on the fire escape. Noya chews loudly on a slice, his eyes on the city skyline, and hers on him. She watches the bruise on his cheek, and how it moves and shifts with each bite he takes. She reaches out and grazes her thumb against it. He swats her hand away. “Stop it, stop worrying.”

She frowns and slides her hand between her pressed-together knees, like she’s trying to hold it still. “Who the fuck said I’m worried?”

“You’re always worried,” he replies, dusting off the end of his pizza nad leaning up against the closed window behind him. “Every time I come home with so much as a papercut, you’re staring at me like there’s a bullet hole in my chest.”

Her eyes drops, and she looks at the greased-stained cardboard between them. “Well, you have come home with bullet holes before, so.”

He sleeps them off. He wraps up the wound in that fucking webbing of his and he just sleeps it off like it’s a headache or scratch or something most people wouldn’t even go to the doctor for. And then she’ll find dried, rusted bits of that webbing, littered around the house.

“Yeah, and I turned out fine,” he assures her, voice a bit softer now. She looks at him, brown eyes shining and slight grin unwavering. “A bruise isn’t gonna kill me. I don’t want you to waste your energy freaking out over me. You have better things to be freaking out over. I know how horrible your boss is.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t really give a shit about him, to be honest.”

Her fingers fidget, and Noya reaches over, covering both of her hands with his. She looks up at him. “I’ll always take care of us both. Okay? Nothing can happen to me while I’m out there, because I know I gotta come back home and make sure you’re good. That’s my number one priority, and I’m not gonna break that promise. Alright?”

She nods her head. “Yeah, alright. I trust you.”

His grin brightens, and he leans forward to throw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “See, that’s my girl. Complete and total faith in me. I love to see it.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles, but rests her head against his shoulder. It feels nice, in his arms. “I’m really the one who takes care of you, y’know. By like, paying the bills.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Can I borrow ten bucks? I bet Tanaka-“

He stops and straightens out. She peers up at him, at watches as his focus narrows in on something in the distance. By the time she catches up, and she can hear the sirens start to go off in the distance, Nishinoya is gone, leaving a slight breeze against the strands of her hair.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

On her desk are two rejections.

The first is on Spider-Man, a feature piece that details his symbolic value to the people of New York; how valuable his presence in the community is and just what he represents to the average New Yorker. It theorizes that identity of Spider-Man isn’t what matters, but the meaning of the mask itself. And it has a big, yellow sticky note on it with the word ‘WRONG!’ written out angrily in thick, black marker.

She sighs. She knew that one wasn’t gonna make it past Jameson. Hardly any of her Spider-Man pieces do. Noya told her to just start writing smear pieces on him, just to get more articles published. But she’s not willing to sacrifice her journalistic integrity to write a bunch of bullshit about how her best friend is ‘getting in the way of the NYPD.’

The second is on the recently passed Norman Osborn. Most obituaries have been fluffy love letters to the capitalist, and maybe Jameson was expecting more of that, rather than a scathing dissection of his life, including, but not limited to, his involvement in developing and selling weapons of war. The sticky note on this one reads, ‘what is this commie crap?’ which, in all honesty, she should’ve been expecting.

She sighs and falls back into her chair. She needs a new, better job. At a place that will publish her articles without twisting her words into nonsense propaganda. A place that will pay her properly, and not like it’s nineteen-eighty-five.

There’s only one silver lining to her job, and that’s the blonde-haired girl depositing a hot latte and everything bagel on her desk. “Rejected again?” Yachi asks, pulling up a chair from the empty desk beside her.

“Ugh, apparently billionaire, tax-evading war criminal Norman Osborn was a friend to the masses that needs to be celebrated, and the guy that says innocent lives every day for free is public enemy number one,” she rants at once, snatching that coffee up and immediately gulping it down, ignoring how it burns her tongue on the way down.

“Yeah,” Yachi agrees. “You didn’t know that?”

She rolls her eyes, wiggling her mouse to wake up her computer. “Shut up.”

Yachi leans back in her chair, and gestures towards the computer screen. “Any more emails from that anonymous guy?”

“No, and thank god for that.”

“It’s so weird,” Yachi notes. “’I know about him,’ is weird, but they’re not threatening you for like, money or information or like any other average email scam. And from what I could see that guy really did not want to be tracked down, and spent a lot of time making sure you couldn’t. And for what? To say something weird.”

Yachi doesn’t know the weight of it. Doesn’t even begin to understand the threat, the implication. Yachi doesn’t even know how the ‘him’ is supposed to be. So she really doesn’t get how disconcerting those facts are. She contemplates, for a moment, slamming her head into the keyboard in front of her.

“Whatever,” she decides ultimately. “I’m just going to ignore it and hopefully absolutely nothing will come of it. It’s how I deal with most of my problems.”

“Oh, what a coincidence, me too,” Yachi laughs, and then stands. “I gotta go. Jameson accidentally downloaded malware onto his computer trying to claim a Target gift card. Have fun rewriting your articles.”

“See you for lunch?” she calls after Yachi’s retreating form.

“Yep!” Yachi confirms with a wave of her hand, disappearing down the line of small, cramped cubicles.

With one, deep, calming breath, she returns her attention to the desktop in front of her. She stretches her neck to the left, and then to the right, and prepares for another day of endless bullshit.

Ding!

YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE.

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[dystopic-view]

I hate his guts 18+

Akaza x fem/afab reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: You and Akaza share the Upper Moon 3 title, but you absolutely can't stand each other. One night, while walking through the woods back to the Infinity Castle, you cross paths with Akaza, who’s bored and itching for a fight. You try to ignore him, not interested in wasting your time, but Akaza won’t let it go, accusing you of being scared of facing him. What starts as more usual bickering between the two of you turns into a tension filled exchange, where his arrogance clashes with your indifference, setting the stage for more than just a physical fight.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒: nsfw, enemies to lovers, bickering, mocking, teasing, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, suggestive content, fluff, smut, fingering, mild degradation, possessiveness, aggressiveness, hate fucking, choking

𝐖.𝐂: 5.6K

The moon was shining brightly up in the sky as you made your way through the familiar dark woods. You were returning to the Infinity Castle, casually walking underneath the moonlight. When you heard it. The snapping of branches, coming from the trees surrounding you. Your eyebrows furrowed, and the scent of a familiar presence entered your nostrils. Upper Moon 3, Akaza.

The one demon you had to share your rank with.

And the one demon which you could not stand.

You loathed him and his smugness, always so full of himself.

You briefly looked around, but you weren’t able to spot him.

“What do you want Akaza, don’t you have Demon Slayers to kill?’’ You spoke into the shadows in an unamused tone and continued walking forward, fully aware you were being watched from above.

You heard a loud thud a few feet behind you, and assumed he might’ve leapt down to be on your level.

You stopped walking, and turned around, facing him directly.

"Come on, let’s fight," he replied, almost bouncing on his feet, that insufferable excitement radiating off him.

His fists clenched and unclenched as though they couldn’t stand being still for too long.

"I’m bored. You’re here. Perfect match."

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, like the conversation was over. "I’m not interested."

The bickering between the both of you was unfortunately constant.

Akaza was always rude and arrogant towards the other Upper Moons and demons, but ever since you quickly scaled the ranks and started sharing the title of Upper Moon 3 with him, all of a sudden, his jabs were solely directed towards you.

You suspected he acted that way out of jealousy.

Or maybe he was just angry that he wasn’t able to defeat you or Doma to surpass you in the ranks, but it was still extremely annoying nonetheless.

"Not interested?" His voice took on that mocking tone he always used when he didn’t get his way. "Are you scared you’ll lose? Scared of me?"

A chuckle was heard from behind you, and footsteps approached as you walked away.

"Scared?" You barked out a laugh, shaking your head. "I just don’t feel like wasting my time with you."

Akaza appeared in front of you in a flash, moving faster than you could blink. "What, you have something better to do out here? Staring at trees is more exciting than a fight with me?"

You shoved him away with a scoff, your patience already wearing thin. "Yes, actually. Trees don’t talk."

Akaza stumbled back, but the grin on his face only grew wider, like he found your annoyance entertaining. "You’re just making excuses."

"And you’re just desperate for attention."

His smile faltered for just a second, but it was noticeable enough to catch.

Akaza’s eyes darkened, the playful glint vanishing as he straightened, his posture growing more rigid.

"Desperate for attention?" His voice was quieter now, lower.

He took a step closer, his presence looming, suffocating. "You think I'm the one desperate here?"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest, but didn’t back down. "If the shoe fits, Akaza. You’re always provoking me, always pushing for a fight. It's like you can’t stand being ignored."

His eyes narrowed, the tension between you thickening like a storm about to break.

For once, he wasn’t smirking. "You think too highly of yourself."

His voice dripped with venom now, any trace of his usual bratty demeanor gone. "Maybe I just want to remind you of your place."

Your pulse quickened, but you forced yourself to stay calm, even as his energy became heavier. "And what place is that? Beneath you?"

He scoffed, his jaw tightening as he took a few steps forward, now standing directly in front of you. "You act like you’re above everything. Me, fighting, all of it. But let me remind you something, you're no different. We’re both demons, and no matter how much you pretend you're better than me, we’re the same. You can’t change that."

You clenched your fists, biting back the urge to lash out, his words stinging more than they should have.

"And here it is," you said nonchalantly, keeping your voice steady. "The real reason you’re here. It’s not actually about a fight, is it? You just can’t stand the idea that I might not care about you at all."

That for sure struck a nerve.

Akaza’s eyes flashed, his fists clenching tight enough that his knuckles cracked. "Shut up."

You took a step closer, refusing to be intimidated, your voice dropping into a low whisper.

"I hit a sore spot, didn’t I? Despite all your strength, all your arrogance, you're just looking for someone to notice you. That’s why you keep annoying me."

Akaza’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a force that could’ve shattered your bones if you hadn’t snatched it away from his grasp quickly enough, jumping away from him, keeping your distance.

His eyes bore into yours, the barely-contained fury in them making your breath hitch.

"You don’t know anything about me," he growled, his posture shifting into an attack stance. "And you’re not as untouchable as you think. Keep pushing, and I’ll make you regret it."

For a moment, you just stared at him, the intensity of his gaze challenging you to react. Then, slowly, deliberately, you took a few steps forward, your eyes never leaving his.

"Go ahead and try." You uttered, bracing yourself for his impending attack.

You faced him once again, an angry expression on your features, and 4 tendril-like black appendages popped out from your back in a defensive stance.

He didn’t waste any time, smirking before launching himself in your direction, his body rapidly approaching as he closed the distance between you.

You dodged his lunge with precision, your tendrils moving faster than his fists.

In a heartbeat, you wrapped them around his arms tightly until his movements were restricted.

Before he could react, you lifted him off the ground, suspending him in the air.

He glared at you, his muscles tensing against your hold, testing your grip.

"Impressive," he hissed, struggling to pull his arms free. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

"You don’t think," you replied coldly, pulling the tendrils tighter, "That’s your problem."

His smirk faded into a look of discomfort, but you could see the defiance still blazing in his eyes.

Akaza’s jaw clenched as he fought against your hold.

You felt the power rising in his body, his muscles tensing as he fought back.

But you weren’t giving him any chance to escape.

You’d had enough of his provocations."What's wrong?" you taunted, narrowing your eyes, and pouting your lips. "Not as easy as you thought?"

"You’re enjoying this a little too much," he grunted, his voice laced with irritation.

Even bound, even suspended in the air, he still managed to sound infuriatingly smug.

But there was something satisfying in the way he writhed under your control, no longer in command of the fight.

You stepped forward, tightening your tendrils again, watching as his smirk trembled for a moment.

"What's wrong, Akaza? Not so tough when you can’t punch your way out of everything?" You insisted, your voice dripping with mockery.

His eyes flashed with fury, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

He twisted violently in your grip, and for a second, you felt the pressure of his strength pushing back against your tendrils.

But you held firm, refusing to let him free.

"You think this will stop me, demoness?" he spat, his voice strained but defiant. "You’re only making me want to crush you more."

"I’m not here to entertain your bruised ego.’’ You shot back, taking another step closer.

You leaned in, your gaze piercing into his. "But maybe now you’ll learn to shut up."

For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Akaza’s struggles completely stopped, his eyes locking with yours in a dangerous, electric stare.

"Absolutely not," he snarled.

In a sudden, violent burst of strength, Akaza slipped one arm free, the force of his movement so powerful it sent a shockwave up your tendril, causing you to lose balance.

Before you could react, he grabbed hold of the one that had bound his other arm, yanking you forward with terrifying speed.

The ground beneath you seemed to disappear as you were pulled into him.

His free hand darted toward your arm, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

He twisted his body mid-air as you unwillingly released him, and before you knew it, the positions were reversed.

He smirked, now gripping you tightly, pulling you closer with that infuriating grin plastered on his face. "Nice try," he breathed, his eyes flashing with satisfaction. "But it’s going to take more than that."

You scoffed, your tendrils lashing out in an attempt to break free, but he managed to grab them fast, his grip unyielding.

His body was pressed against yours, too close for comfort, the air between you charged with tension.

Both physical and something else.

"You actually thought you had me, didn’t you?" he taunted, his breath warm against your skin, his voice dangerously low. "Did you really think you could control me?"

Your tendrils twitched with agitation, but his grip was unrelenting.

He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his tone low and mocking. "You can bind me all you want, but I’ll break free every time."

His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, as if daring you to try again. "You’re strong, but I’m stronger."

You could feel your blood boiling, adrenaline running through your veins as your anger grew. The arrogance, the way he loomed over you, all of it was infuriating.

But you weren’t going to let him see that.

Not yet.

"Stronger?" you sneered, your tendrils curling tighter around his arms, still attempting to force them back down. "All I see is someone who can’t stop fighting for my attention."

His smirk faltered just for a second, but you saw the look on his face, like his pride had been wounded.

So you decided to press harder.

"Is this what it takes for you to feel important, Akaza? Throwing yourself at me over and over like a desperate puppy?’’

Akaza’s eyes darkened instantly, the playful glint replaced by something far more dangerous. His grip shifted, fingers tightening with enough force that if you weren’t a demon, your skin would have bruised instantly.

His breath was faster now, frustration radiating off him, but beneath the anger, you could feel something more.

Something simmering just under the surface.

"You’re really pushing it," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

His face was so close now you could feel his breath against your lips, his gaze burning into yours. "You think you can talk down to me like that and walk away? You think I need your attention?"

You leaned in closer, refusing to break eye contact, daring him to go further. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Akaza’s grip tightened even more, his fingers pressing into your skin with bruising force.

His entire body tensed, the air between you crackling with raw, palpable energy.

His smirk had long vanished, replaced by a hard, intense expression, his jaw clenched as if he was fighting against something he couldn’t control.

And then, without warning, he pulled you even closer, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, his voice dark and unsteady. "Careful," he hissed, his eyes locked on yours, the tension so thick it was suffocating. "You might get more than you bargained for."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the heat between you almost unbearable, but you refused to flinch, refused to give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you allowed a smirk of your own to creep onto your lips.

"Funny," you murmured, your voice calm despite the storm raging around you, "I was about to say the same thing."

Akaza’s eyes flared with rage, and in a blur of motion, he slammed your back against a tree, pinning you there with his body.

His chest pressed hard against yours, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in even closer, his voice a growl. "You think you can handle this?"

Your tendrils shot out again, wrapping around him tighter, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

You could feel the rapid beating of his heart against your chest, matching your own, and for the first time, his exterior cracked.

His eyes widened just slightly, the raw tension now boiling over into something far more dangerous.

"I can handle anything you throw at me," you breathed, your voice low but steady, your gaze locked with his. "The real question is, can you?’’

For a split second, you saw the look in Akaza’s eyes shift.

The rage, the frustration, it was all still there, but beneath it was something else.

His lips curled back into a feral grin, but this time it wasn’t cocky or playful.

"You have no idea what you’re getting into," he whispered, his voice rough, his body still pressed tightly against yours.

His hand moved up, trailing along your arm until it reached your neck wrapping around it, his touch firm but not quite painful.

His thumb brushed your skin as his eyes bore into you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "But you’re about to find out.’’

You felt your breath catch in your throat as the weight of his words sank in, but you didn’t flinch, didn’t move.

Instead, you let the tension build, let it grow between you like a volcano about to erupt.

"Then stop talking," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "And show me.’

His grip on your neck tightened, just enough to remind you of his power, but not enough to truly hurt.

His eyes, wild and hungry, flickered with something unspoken, his body pressed so close that it felt like he was trying to consume you.

The tension between you burned hotter, the space between your bodies practically nonexistent, and every nerve in your body screamed to push him back, to do anything but let him have this moment of control.

But you didn’t move.

Something inside of you craved this feeling.

"I see that look in your eyes," he growled, his voice low and dangerous as his thumb pressed slightly against the racing heartbeat in your neck. "You’re pretending you hate me, but deep down, I know you’re enjoying this."

His lips curled into a grin as his thumb lingered against your pulse, feeling the rapid beat beneath your skin. "Admit it," he whispered, leaning in closer until his breath ghosted over your ear.

Your breath hitched, your body betraying you in ways you couldn’t fully control.

Every nerve was on fire, and though you hated him, though you truly hated him, there was something undeniably intoxicating about the way he hovered over you, dominating the space between you both.

"I don’t need to admit anything to you," you hissed back, voice tight, as if trying to keep the truth buried deep.

Akaza chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You’re not as good at hiding it as you think."

His fingers slid from your neck, trailing lightly down your collarbone, a gesture so gentle it sent a shiver through you, in stark contrast to the intensity of his words. "You can keep lying to yourself, but your body’s already told me everything I need to know."

Your tendrils twitched, overwhelmed with the urge to fight back, to stop this never ending power trip. But something was keeping you there, on the fine line between desire and hatred, unable to fully break away

And Akaza could see it in your eyes, how you were coming to terms with what you were feeling. "You don’t have to fight it," he whispered, his voice like silk wrapping around you. "You won’t win."

He smirked, his lips curling in satisfaction as if he had already won. "You can’t hide it from me, not when your heart’s racing like that."

His lips were close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off them, but still, he didn’t close the distance.

He was toying with you, daring you to break first.

Your tendrils coiled tighter around his body as they responded to your growing frustration. "I know exactly what you are," you spat, keeping your voice steady despite the heat rushing through your veins. "A broken, pathetic demon who needs a fight just to feel alive."

Akaza’s eyes flashed with anger, his fingers tightening briefly on your neck before relaxing, his control wavering for just a moment. "And you’re a coward who hides behind her words because she’s afraid to actually fight."

You scoffed, glaring at him even as his body pressed harder against yours. "I could crush you right now if I wanted to."

"Then why haven’t you?" His smirk returned, that insufferable arrogance coating his words. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think.’’

Your heart slammed against your chest, but you refused to let him see any hint of weakness. "Or maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment to put you in your place."

Akaza chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin. "Sure you are."

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours again, the fire in his eyes burning hotter. "But if you’re waiting for me to break, it’s not going to happen."

Without warning, his other hand shot up, gripping one of your tendrils with crushing force. You winced as he twisted it, pulling you even closer.

His face was a mask of intensity, the air between you so thick with tension it was nearly unbearable.

But he wasn’t just trying to hurt you.

He was testing you, pushing you to see how far you’d let him go before you fought back.

"I can feel it," he murmured, his eyes boring into yours with a kind of dark fascination. "You’re holding back. Afraid of what happens if you let yourself go."

You gritted your teeth, fury bubbling beneath the surface, but you couldn’t deny the truth in his words.

You truly were holding back.

The power in your veins pulsed with dangerous potential, the need to fight, to hurt, burning just beneath your skin.

But something about this moment.

About him,

Made you hesitate.

"Don’t mistake control for fear," you shot back, your voice sharp, though you could feel the tension building in your muscles, your body screaming to react.

Akaza’s grin widened, that infuriating, reckless energy radiating off him. "Oh, so you think you’re in control, huh?" he whispered, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. "Then prove it."

His words were a challenge, daring you to act, to push him off and reclaim the fight.

But the air between you wasn’t just filled with violence anymore.

It was charged with something neither of you wanted to admit.

The proximity, the heat, the way his breath mingled with yours, it all made the line between hate and lust blur.

“Careful what you ask for,” you warned, your voice low, your tendrils twitching in response to your rising anger..

“Or what?” Akaza shot back, his eyes narrowing.

His hand still gripped your tendril, but now his thumb traced your skin, a deliberate, slow movement that made your pulse spike. “You’ll finally do something?”

Your breath hitched, your body tensing as the air around you crackled with a mixture of anger and a feeling much harder to control.

Every fiber of your being screamed to fight, to tear him apart, to stop this unbearable tension, but these odd feelings were holding you in place.

The thrill of the fight, the twisted connection between you both, kept you unbearably on edge.

Then, without warning, you leaned forward.

Your lips collided with his, harsh and desperate, the force of it startling even you.

It wasn’t soft or tender.

It was raw, violent, fueled by the tension that had been building between you for far too long. Your tendrils retracted, and you wrapped your arms around him pulling him impossibly close, and he responded in the same manner, his grip on you fierce as if this was just another form of combat.

Akaza growled against your lips, his hands tangling in your hair as he kissed you back with equal ferocity, matching your intensity.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you could feel the frustration and anger in every movement.

You pulled back just enough to breathe, your forehead still pressed against his, both of you panting from the sudden explosion of energy.

His eyes were wild, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he stared at you with a mixture of shock and desire.

"You wanted me to prove it," you whispered, your voice low and breathless. "How’s that for control?"

Surprisingly, Akaza didn’t have a snarky retort.

His lips parted, but no words came out.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression confused.

But the moment didn’t last long.

Before you could fully process what had just happened, Akaza’s lips were on yours again, more aggressive this time, like he was trying to reclaim control.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you hard against him as his mouth moved hungrily against yours, his breath hot and frantic.

You couldn’t resist.

You matched his energy, kiss for kiss, both of you locked in a battle that had nothing to do with fists or power but was just as violent.

You found yourselves now laying on the ground, his body hovering over yours, pinning you down.

There you laid under him, unbothered by the danger, unbroken by his attempts.

A look of defiance, of challenge.

A spark of desire ignited within him.

He leaned down once more, trailing kisses down your neck.

You so desperately wanted to feel repulsed by what you two were doing, but you made no effort to fight back, instead letting out a low moan, your eyes fluttering shut.

While it confused you, you couldn’t deny that there was something about the situation that left you wanting more.

He pulled away from your neck, and stared into your eyes intensely.

You parted your lips, slightly bewildered, lust and need plastered all over your face.

His desire for you was equally growing with every passing moment.

He had never wanted someone so fiercely before, and the fact this feeling was caused by someone he hated was driving him wild.

He claimed your mouth in a brutal kiss, his tongue forcing his way between your lips.

You responded eagerly, kissing him back fervently, your tongues battling for dominance with each other, your hatred for each other fueling this intense desire as your body pressed against his.

His hand trailed down your neck, his fingers slipping beneath your clothing to caress your bare skin.

He could feel your heartbeat racing, your body responding to his touch.

He broke the kiss, his breathing coming in ragged pants. “Tell me you’re mine.’’ He demanded, his voice hoarse. “Say it.’’

You raised your eyebrow, surprised at the demand.

“I’m not yours, nor will I ever be.’’ You growled between breaths, daring to defy him.

You pressed your lips against his aggressively, flipping him on his back quickly, straddling him.

His eyes flashed with surprise as you took control, pinning him down to the ground with a fierce kiss.

He could taste how much you wanted him, he could feel your body’s hunger against his own.

But he wouldn’t back down so easily.

As soon as you pulled away, he rolled you onto your back, his body hovering over yours again..

His hand gripped your wrists tightly, holding them above your head.

“You’re mine.’’ He whispered, his voice low and possessive. “Admit it, demoness.’’ He smirked, grinding his hips against you, his erection seeking entrance.

He could feel your wetness through his pants, your body’s response to him undeniable.

The air between you crackled with tension, your breaths tangling as you stared into each other's eyes.

“Never.’’ You smirked, throwing your head back as he ground against you, soft moans escaping your lips in response to the sensation.

His lips curled into a victorious grin as he heard the sounds coming out of your mouth, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“Never?’’ He repeated, his voice thick with need. “Is that so?’’

He began grinding his hips against you harder, his erection growing with each second that passed.

He felt your body responding to him once more, your hips bucking involuntarily.

With that he tore off your clothing, exposing your bare breasts to the cool night air.

He leaned in, his lips closing around your nipple as he sucked and nibbled on it,

Your back arched off the ground, your hips thrusting upwards to meet his touch.

Akaza’s hand trailed down your body until it reached your waistband, his finger slipping underneath it to find you wet and waiting.

You let out a breathy moan as his fingers slowly made their way inside of you, your arms still pinned above your head.

“I’ll never be yours.’’ You repeated teasingly.

His hand stilled and hovered over your wetness as he grinned wickedly, eliciting a frustrated sigh out of you at the sudden stop.

“You’re quite the feisty one, aren’t you?’’ He said, his voice husky. “Always defying me, even when you clearly want me.’’

With a swift motion, he slid down his pants freeing his length.

He positioned himself between your legs, his tip glistening with pre-cum.

When he finally entered you, you let out a satisfied gasp overwhelmed with the feeling.

He began to move, his hips pounding into you in a relentless rhythm.

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, his grin widening as he watched your body tremble beneath him, your breath hitching every time he moved in and out of you.

He pulled out, your juices dripping down his shaft.

“Just admit it. I know you want me.’’

He started to trail his fingers down your stomach, using his cock to tease your clit with light strokes.

“Wanting you, doesn’t make me yours.’’ You mocked back, gasping as he made contact with you.

His grin widened with each of your gasps and moans.

He loved this feeling of control.

“You’re so wet for me.’’ He taunted, still teasing you. “Tell me demoness, does this mean that I’m not as indifferent to you as you’ve been making me out to be?’’

He thrusted back into you, his hips quickly picking up the previous pace.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You can try to resist, but you can’t hide it. You’re mine.’’

He nipped at your earlobe, eliciting a shudder from your body.

“Fuck you, Akaz-’’ You try to speak, being interrupted by your own moans, the feeling too intense to muster up any words.

His lips crashed against yours as he pounded into you mercilessly.

He could taste your defiance, your stubborn refusal to submit completely.

But despite your efforts to hide it, he could also feel your body’s surrender, your walls clenching around him in need.

“Shit.’’ He growled, breaking the kiss, “You feel so fucking good.’’

His fingers dug into your hips as he picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

He could feel your climax building, your body tensing with each thrust.

His eyes hooded with lust as he watched your face contorted in pleasure.

He leaned down close to your ear. “You can’t deny it, can you? You’re mine. You need me.’’

You hated what he was saying, hated that he was right, hated to admit he was the one making you feel like this, hated the fact that those same words you despised were affecting you so much, feeling yourself closer and closer to coming, your legs twitching, wrapping around his torso.

“I need you Akaza.’’ You moan out, finally saying out loud what you had been dreading to admit, your breathing ragged and erratic.

He smiled wickedly, satisfied with your confession.

“You do, don’t you?’’ He taunted, his voice low. “Look at you, letting someone you despise fuck you like this. Look how much you’re enjoying it, you slut.’’ He gripped your cheeks, forcing your eyes to stare back into his.

His hips picked up speed, his cock slamming into you with abandon, your cries echoing throughout the silent woods.

“I want you to come for me.’’ His voice was a growl, his movements becoming more urgent.

Driven by his words, you were sent over the edge, climaxing intensely, throwing your head back in pleasure as you pulled him in for an intense kiss.

You moaned his name into his mouth, your nails digging into his back with so much force it drew blood.

He couldn’t hold back any longer, your own orgasm causing him to empty himself into you with a shaky groan, his breathing coming in pants.

His body went limp with satisfaction as he collapsed over you, his heart pounding in his ears.

He leaned in close to your ear, your body still trembling with aftershocks.

“I knew you’d change your mind eventually.’’ He whispered, mocking you.

You try to regain your breath, and just lay there with him over you for a few moments.

“Fuck you, Akaza.’’ You spit out chuckling, pushing him off of you.

He chuckled back, placing his hand on your hip.

“Is that any way to talk to someone who just made you come?’’ He raised an eyebrow playfully, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

“That was the first, and last time you made me come.’’ You say teasingly, swatting his hand away from your hip.

He sat up, reaching for his discarded clothing to wipe away the dirt and leaves from them.

He held his hand out, helping you to your feet.

He adjusted his pants, his eyes scanning the forest surrounding you.

“Although I do have to admit, hate-fucking is a wonderful thing.’’ You chuckled, taking his hand and getting up from the ground, wiping the dirt away from your body.

“You’re insatiable, you know that, right?” He teased, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I’m insatiable?” you scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one that was practically begging me to say I was yours. What’s the matter, Akaza? Can’t handle a little rejection?”

His grin faltered just slightly, and you seized the opportunity to press harder.

“Admit it,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “you keep acting all tough, and what do you really want? A little validation? A pat on the head? Maybe a ‘good boy’ for fucking me so well?’’

His eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed, but he quickly masked it with his usual infuriating smirk.

“Poor Akaza,” you continued mockingly, leaning in just enough to make him uncomfortable. “Desperate for approval, but too proud to ask nicely.’’ You mocked, grabbing your clothes and putting them back on.

His brows furrowed as you spoke.

He couldn't help but feel a tinge of irritation.

He gave you what you wanted and this is how you repaid him?

By making fun of him?

“You’re lucky I didn’t just kill you immediately for speaking like that to me.’’ He spoke, his voice low.

He put his vest back on, turning his back towards you, his movements stiff.

He wasn’t going to let you see how much your words were affecting him.

“And don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it, demoness. I saw your face.’’

“Oh I did enjoy it, and i’ll admit it.’’ You chuckled. “I literally just said hate-fucking was a wonderfull thing, don’t you agree?’’

You finished fixing your clothes and hair, and turned towards him.

His eyes narrowed at your words, but he couldn’t ignore the truth they held.

He did enjoy the confrontation, the chase, and the ultimate outcome.

“I agree.’’ He admitted, his voice rough. “But don’t get any ideas, you’re nothing to me..’’

Spoken by the one begging you to say you belonged to him 10 minutes ago.

You raised an eyebrow at that remark, crossing your arms over your chest with a teasing grin on your face.

He turned to face you, his body still tense with lingering desire.

“And this isn’t happening again anytime soon. Not unless you beg.’’ He smirked mischievously, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Fine.’’ You replied, dryly. Unaffected. “I’ll see you later then.’’

With a final teasing glare, you released your tendrils, one of them tapping him on his forehead lightly before you jumped upwards, landing in a tree above, leaving him in the middle of the woods by himself.

You waved him goodbye, still smirking smugly at him, before you disappeared into the night.

He watched as your form grew smaller and smaller in the distance until you were just a speck of darkness against the starlit sky.

The quiet of the woods crept back in, filling up the space you’d left behind, but his mind was still racing with the remnants of your encounter.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a mixture of frustration and intrigue swirling in his chest.

He was lying when he said you were nothing to him, there was no denying that.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he was already anticipating the next time you’d cross paths.

With one final glance at the sky where you’d disappeared, he turned on his heel and vanished into the shadows of the forest, his thoughts still lingering on your teasing words, and the heat of your touch.

Whatever this was between the two of you, it was far from over.

And he knew, deep down, neither of you would be able to stay away for long.

[holylulusworld]

Bad day at work (2)

Summary: It’s a bad day at the office.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x fem!Reader

Warnings: short reader, enemies to…, language

Catch up here: Bad day at work

“Nothing will happen, Mr…” You glance at the name tag on his shirt. “Jensen.” He glares at you while you cross your arms over your chest. Jensen purses his lips, ready to defend his colleagues. He’s just done hearing everyone complain because they are too stupid to switch their computer off and on.

“If I recall right, your job is to take care of the IT in this company. I called, asking for help only for the guy answering the phone to get cheeky. He ate and chewed loudly. I told him that switching my laptop on and off won’t help because the new software causes the problem.”

“I don’t think any of my colleagues would do such a thing!” He argues, making you furious. It’s one of Jensen’s rules to not eat or drink at your desk. Everyone knows the rule and follows it.

“He hung up on me! I can easily find out who was the one and get them fired. I don’t care if it was you or one of your buddies. I had an awful week, and today wasn’t better. All I was asking for was help. That’s your job!”

“Maybe you were aggressive and loud!” He steps closer, into your personal space. His chest almost touches yours as he defends his colleagues.

“I simply told him that switching off and on won’t solve my problem! He was unprofessional from the beginning. You can’t eat while taking a call. It’s impolite and immature.”

Jensen huffs. “Fine, fine!” He pushes his glasses back up his nose. “I’ll check who was on the phone and talk to them. I still don’t believe he did what he did, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Neither am I,” you snap at him. “I was stressed, and maybe my tone wasn’t nice, but I tried to stay professional.”

He doesn’t believe you but takes your complaint seriously. “Wait here. I’ll check who answered your call.”

You grab your laptop and the remnants of your mouse. “I still need help with my laptop. Where is everyone? Why is no one here to do their job?” You look around the empty open-plan office. There is no one around but Jensen.

Jensen walks off, ignoring that you follow him. He’s already pissed and doesn’t need any more stress. “Brock! God! Charlie?” He calls, but no one answers. “Where is everyone?” He pokes his head into the break room, only to find Charlie and God in a battle over the last chocolate bar.

“Hey, boss!” Charlie grins as she wins the chocolate bar. “What’s up?” The redhead grins from ear to ear. “We took our break.”

“Who answered the last call?” Jensen sighs. Great. Now you saw two of his colleagues play rock, paper, scissors for a chocolate bar.

“Brock,” God grunts. He longingly looks at the chocolate bar. “You cheated.” He accuses and snatches the chocolate bar out of Charlie’s hands.

“HEY! I won it!”

“Guys, where is Brock?” Jensen runs one hand down his face. Charlie and God just proved you right. None of them seems to take their job seriously.

“Smoking.” Charlie snatches the chocolate bar out of God’s hand right when he wants to eat it.

“Great, none of you seems to work here.” You roll your eyes. “You know what? Forget about my problem. I’ll call my boss and tell him that I need a new laptop because the whole IT crowd couldn’t help me because they are busy eating chocolate bars and playing silly games.”

You twirl around and storm off. Wasting more time on them is not in your plans. Maybe you can fix the problem yourself. You’re not an IT due but know your way around a computer.

“WAIT!” Jensen easily catches up with you. Fucking long legs. “I can take care of your problem.” He walks next to you. “Listen, you caught me off guard. I’m very protective of my team. If Brock fucked things up, he’s in trouble. I’m his supervisor.”

“I thought you wanted to show me what happens when someone messes with the IT crowd,” you joke. “You know, so far no one has ever threatened me at my workplace.”

Jensen grins. He takes the laptop out of your hands and asks you to follow him to his desk. “I’ll fix your hard drive problems,” he dips his head to look at you. “And maybe I’ll help you deep clean it too.”

Tags in reblog.

[batchilla]

The most married divorced couple - Chapter 4 - Coffee and Custody

Years of well honed instincts through gruelling training had Jason as a perpetually light sleeper. A perpetually light sleeper who knew, even in his sleep, that he was being watched. 

He opens one eye, slowly sitting up as he takes in his surroundings - his wife’s… his ex wife's penthouse apartment. Well, that told him who was watching him at least. Sure enough, peering at him from behind the furthest arm of the couch he’d spent the night on is a tell-tale mess of curls so like his own - and Mary comes scrambling, not around the couch, but up to sit on the arm. “DAD!” 

Every time. Every time, that single word reminds him that there is in fact good in the world, and that his baby girl might just be the epitome of that. She all but tackles him into a cuddle. “You're here!”

He tries not to wince. He doesn’t ever want her to hug him less enthusiastically - but last night hadn’t gone well, and becoming climbing equipment for his daughter did not exactly help his recovery. 

Jason hugs her tight “Hi baby.” he says, his head resting on hers.

“Mm not a baby.” she grumbles “are you stayin’ for breakfast?”

“If mum says yes.” He says, part of him feeling dirty over the manipulative tactic - but the truth of the matter always was that Mary had a higher success rate in campaigning for him to stay then he did. Something about those adorable little eyes, he suspects. Mary hms, tucking her head against her shoulder. 

“M’ glad you came Dad. I don’t want Mr Brett to be my new dad.” Fucking what? Part of him wanted to resort to old methods on this ‘Mr Brett’ with extreme prejudice. For sniffing around his wife and daughter, and for trying to take what should have still been his. 

“What's that now baby?” he says, trying to keep the growing emotions that were making him feel like he was on fire. She didn’t need to know about any of that. 

“Mr Brett, he walks me to school sometimes cus I’m best friends with Jaxon and Riley and Kyle, and sometimes Mum walks me with them. They say its like a ‘carpool’ but cars don’t go to the pool, and the other day he and mummy went for a playdate while I was at grandpa Bruce’s and then Mum was asking how I felt about Mr Brett and I said he was so nice but that I don’t want a new dad and then she turned on baby shark and I got distracted.”  He takes a deep breath. He can’t get mad in front of Mary. Another deep breath. He realistically can’t get mad at all. He knows that. He had been divorced from his wife for four years. She was allowed to seek out … companionship. Had he? No. Did it feel akin to a betrayal? He knew it shouldn’t - but it did. She didn’t need to be lonely - and he didn’t want her to be. But he did hope that he’d somehow end up being the solution, not this fucking ‘Mr Brett’ asshole. Even then - companionship was one thing, but a relationship serious enough she’d mention it to Mary?

“Well, I’m sure he’s… nice, if your Mum likes him.”

“Mhm. Maybe you can say hi when he comes to get me for school.” “Speaking of school!” His wife's voice sounds from her doorway, loud enough to tell him she’d heard enough of that to panic slightly. “Mary, get dressed, you’ll be late.” 

Mary reluctantly separates from the hug, dragging her feet dramatically “Okay mum. Even though Dad’s here and he NEVER is, school happens every day and is super boring.”

“Nice try bubba.” she says, folding her arms and shaking her head. The second their child shuts the door - still loudly complaining about how unfair it all was, which in Jason’s opinion was psychological warfare, which his ex wife seemed somehow immune to, Jason turns to her. “We need to talk.”

She sighs “I guess we do. But not in front of Mary.” She runs a hand through her hair. “She’ll have eggs and toast soldiers - you want some?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to sound less bitter than he feels as he watches her head to the kitchen.

“So, Brett…” He says, following her to the kitchen and grabbing the bread and putting it in the toaster.

“Charles Brett.” you clarified.

Jason had to physically restrain himself from laughing. “Charles Brett? Those are both first names. You’ve replaced me with a man with a first name for a last name.”

“I haven’t REPLACED you, you LEFT!” She says, indignant furry in her eyes as she whips around to face him, stove at her back. Jason felt his blood boil. Yes, he’d left, but he hadn’t wanted to!

“And then you wouldn’t let me come BACK!” he counters, trying to keep his voice level, but not managing it. 

“BECAUSE YOU WERE RIGHT TO LEAVE!” She yells, tears in her eyes. 

“you fighting?” Mary asks, opening her bedroom door, tugging at the tie of her Gotham academy uniform as if it had personally offended her.

  “No sweetie.” they say in unison, as they shoot her reassuring smiles.

It doesn’t work.

She regards you both suspiciously, and takes her toast and eggs “please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always cries when you leave so please don’t fight now.” “What?”

“Please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always gets sad when you leave so please don’t fight now.”

“What?” Jason asks, glancing from Mary to you. You were proud that you’d raised an honest, headstrong young lady who had no hesitation speaking her mind. You did sometimes, such as right now, wish she did it a little less often around Jason. Jason who was now looking at you with a face you hated for how little you could read. He used to be an open book to her. Mary pulls herself onto the chair at the kitchen bench and dips her toast into her egg. “We got two names.” she points out to Jason. “Todd’s a boy's name.”

You sigh, and sip your coffee. She’d heard all of it. How lovely. 

Your baby girl looks at you, her hair in an attempt of a ponytail, her uniform slightly overlarge still, being early in the school year, both making her look so, so tiny. “What did dad mean? That you wouldn’t let him come back?”

You feel like you're falling. Luckily, there’s no amount of hurt, upset, or angry that Jason could be that would mean he wouldn’t come to your aid. “See cherub… Daddy didn’t mean that.” He says, grabbing her shoulder gently.

“I did… Well, I’m sure someone at school might’ve said, or the news… Marriage is supposed to be a promise to love each other forever … and I broke that promise.” Jason takes a deep breath.

 “What I did hurt your mum. She hasn’t forgiven me. Maybe she won’t ever. She doesn’t have to.” He shakes his head. “I said what I said because I was upset, but… It’s not her fault. It’s mine.”

You offer him an awkward, tight smile. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you baby girl. Just that … being married wasn’t the best option for us anymore.”

“...” Mary leans into her Dads side, her face solemn and thoughtful. You have to avert your gaze from the pair, lest you start crying - or worse - forgive him. 

“Do you still love mum?” she asks quietly, and Jason opens his mouth, hesitating for a second - which saves him from needing to answer the question. Only to make the situation a million times worse for you. Jason looks to the door. “Brett?” he asks, addressing you, but his gaze not leaving the door, with a look in his eyes that reminds you of darker days. “Brett.” You confirm, taking a deep breath as you move towards the door. “You packed M?”

“Yeah Mum,” she says, grabbing her backpack and shrugging it on, wrapping her arms around Jason’s waist in a goodbye hug. 

“See ya soon Dad?”

“...Yeah, baby. Really soon. Promise.” He says, ruffling her hair. 

You open the door, hoping to do this quickly, before things get even more uncomfortable. Charles Brett is a shorter man, with brown hair, brown eyes, forever slightly unkempt and a had perpetually tired look in his eyes from being a single father of three. But he has a kind smile, and you like him. He’s … a good man. He’s not Jason, but then again no one is. 

“Charles, Hi.” You say, leaning against the door to bar entrance. Normally you’d invite him in, have coffee or let the kids watch a episode of bluey while you chatted if the morning was running on schedule. 

He says your name, but catches your discomfort before he says anything more, and his gaze moves past you, looking for its source - and he finds it.

“Oh, Hello - Jason, yes? The ex husband?” He asks, pretending not to know who he was, as if he hadn’t seen the many magazines and heard the gossip surrounding his incredibly public, if staged, infidelity. As if Jason, in his need to convince Roman you meant nothing, hadn’t publicly called you a bitch. Jason doesn’t seem to remember that at this moment, and you watch as he puffs up his chest in rage. 

“Yeah. You have an issue with that?” he asks, moving to stand behind you.

“And if I do—-”

“Not. In. Front. Of. The. Kids.” You interject, before it can go too far. 

“Have a good day at school sweetie.” You say, kissing the crown of Mary’s head, giving Charles an apologetic smile, and all but slamming the door and turning to Jason. 

“He’s a good man.” You growl. Because he is. And because Mary needs a positive male influence, and Jason hasn’t been able to be that. And because you are a little worried that Jason is going to use his alter ego to run him off. 

“He’s sniffing around where he doesn’t belong.” Jason counters, stepping forward. You step back, and feel the door knob press against your spine. 

“He belongs here if I want him here.” You reply, refusing to be intimidated. “Yeah, well he doesn’t get to be my kids fucking dad! I’m her dad!” You cut your own angry response short “what? We’ve been on two dates. No one is becoming a dad to our daughter?!” “That’s not what she said” Jason says, folding his arms. “Mary got ‘married’ twice last week at recess and last I checked had two boyfriends and a girlfriend.” You roll your eyes. “She is not the leading expert in how adult relationships work.” Jason takes a deep breath. “So it’s not… serious?” You shrug. “It’s not … Look. We’re adults. We both have kids. We don’t have a lot of time for casual flings, and the kids get along so need to be protected. We are taking it seriously, but it’s early days.” He nods slightly, “I’m having bab’s look into him.” You close your eyes and exhale. “Jay…” “I won’t do anything unless I find something substantial.” he reluctantly promises. “But I don’t take chances when it comes to you.” You feel his presence loom closer despite your eyes being closed. You open them to see your ex husband’s hand lingering in the air a few centimetres from your shoulder, his eyes sad and longing as he stands before you. “Is he good to you?” He asks, the anger gone from his voice. “Can you… see a future with him?” “Why does it matter to you?” You ask. It’s mostly rhetorical. You know why, and really what you mean to ask without saying it in as many words… is if Jason feels he has any right to intervene if his search finds anything more serious than a questionable browser history.

“Why does it matter to you?” The words feel wrong against his very ears. His tenuous grasp on the cool facade he’d put up, which had almost begun to take a true effect, with those six words is utterly shattered. He feels his heart pounding, too fast, too hard, too angry. The pit changed him, in many ways. The anger had always been there. The pit had made it worse. He’d never once take it out on you. He’d sooner die. But it exists in him, clawing like a beast against the inside of his ribs. Why does it matter? Why does it FUCKING MATTER? It screams, it throws itself against his skin, it burns his eyes and boils in his blood. How can you not understand how deeply he loves you? How can you not understand that he’d destroy anything that wished you or Mary harm and delight in it? That if you hadn’t been in his life back then, he’d surely be on a very different path? How do you not understand? He turns away, tugging a hand through his hair, he cannot look at her in this moment, cannot meet those beautiful eyes, can’t bear to see the face he adores above all others contorted by anger. “It matters to me because I still fucking love you.” He says through gritted teeth, through the shame, the rage, and the hurt. “And because I know you know that,” He continues, stepping further back to pace the apartment - the home - that he had once shared with you. He hears her move across the hardwood towards him. Feels a hand on his arm. “Jason…” She says quietly, as if to soothe a wounded beast - and he wishes it didn’t work as well as it did. He wishes he didn’t feel like a frightened, pained, hissing beast. He pushes her away. Not aggressively - but a firm, nonverbal denial. “Roman fucked with our kid. I don’t regret what we did as a result. But love, he’s been in the ground for years. I know that it could happen again… But I don’t want to keep missing my kids' childhood because of that fear. If her safety costs us… then so be it. But I don’t accept that it will. I refuse. The only fucking reason I kept these-”

 He holds up the rings on the cord around his neck “Is to put yours back on your fucking finger one day.” He sits at the bench, his hands in his pockets so you can’t see his knuckles go white. So you can’t see his pain, or how bad what he is about to do scares him. “I don’t ever want to fight you. You know that, right?” He looks at you, and he hopes that whoever or whatever is out there he doesn’t sound as sad as he feels. He looks at her, his friend, his daughter's mother, his ex wife who he’d never truly seen as an ex anything, and he sees a woman who’s hurting as he is, but while he sees the solution to their pain as recovery of what was, she sees the solution as acceptance. She cannot help him. He cannot help her. But, together, perhaps, they can help their daughter. “I want you to know this isn’t just because of Brett. Though hearing Mary talk about a new dad did light a fire under my ass. I want custody. Shared, I mean.” He puts his head in his hands, elbows on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be asking for 50/50. Please.” He looks at her through his fingers. “We make a good team. Don’t make this be ugly.” She sighs, sad and tired and hurting. “I think we’re both a little too charged to talk about that right now. Can we have coffee in a few days?” He nods. “Yeah. Yeah that works for me. I uh… I’ll call Alfred to send a car round for me… and you can text me the details?”

A week later, you find yourself sitting in the back of a coffee shop, waiting for Jason to return with your drinks. You try not to dwell on the fact that despite not having asked, you knew he didn’t need to to know your order even after all this time.  You shuffle the papers of notes you’d had your lawyer look over. True, you trusted him. You thought he’d be a good father. You’d still stayed divorced for a reason. “I have concerns.” You say ternsly as he takes the seat across from you. He’s cleaned up. You can’t focus on that. You have a little girl who needs to come first right now - and you take a breath to remind yourself that she’s just as important to Jason. “Figures.” He says, but his tone is lighthearted. “Part of me just hates the idea of seeing her less.” You admit. He just nods, without judgement, without making the point that he knows what that’s like, simply letting you speak for the moment. “And it’s not because I like having her more than you, but because… I cried when she went on her first sleepover and she’s my baby.” You continue, picking at the napkin dispenser absentmindedly. “But beyond that there are logistical concerns as well. I know your … various residences…” safehouses. 

“Are safe. But moving as often as you do…” At least twice a week as a safety precaution.

“isn’t ideal for obvious reasons. Not to mention… She’s smart. She’s smart and she’s nosey.” Jason sips his coffee “her father’s daughter” “Nosey maybe. Smart? Debatable.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I see your point though. We don’t want her to find out about the families… extracurricular activities.” You sip your drink. Sure enough, he’d remembered your order. Damn him and his perfect memory and his perfect face. “I’ve put some thought into it.” He reassures, and you nearly snort. Some thought? Knowing Jason, knowing his family? Several hours of thought had gone into any decision they deemed remotely important. You’d attended meetings, essentially war councils, while you were still married about the most minor aspects of their cover. “With my … schedule, 50/50 won’t be possible without her knowing everything, and she isn’t ready yet. But I want weekends, which I… we? Would spend at the manor. For stability.” “We?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. Jason gives you the same grin that had made you fall in love with him. Your stomach turns to a lepidopterarium. Damn him. “Well, last I checked Bruce said you were welcome at the manor whenever you wished… and if she was coming with you, it wouldn’t need to be a legal arrangement. Less of a paper trail is safer for Mary.” Jason says it matter of fact. Detached. Like he’s explaining a mission, not talking about his life, or his child’s. You know better than to fall for it. He runs a hand through his hair and winks at you. “Though if there needs to be a paper trail I’d prefer it be one leading to us again. I said some shit I shouldn’t have the other day. I apologise for that. You can keep seeing that Charles idiot - I was a prick about him, and his background check came back clean. But… I meant it. I fully intend to fight to get you back.” He stands to leave before you can process or argue. “So… See you Saturday morning?” he says not at all a genuine question, kissing your forehead and heading to the door, much like he might disappear after a one liner as Red Hood. You suspect it’s a strategy that works on cops or criminals - but is less impressive to his ex wife. All you can think to call after him is “SAYING THAT AND WALKING OFF ISN’T AS SLICK AS YOU THINK”

taglist @jasontoddproblems

@fic-over-cannon

@stormz369

[sjywrites]

Hii can I request Sophia x reader academic rivals? 🥺 u can do whatever u want w the plot pretty much please and thank u so much <3 :)

༊*·˚ ACADEMIC RIVALS LOVERS?

𝓢ophia 𝓛aforteza x 𝓖n!reader. (no pronouns used). 𝓖enre. fluff, angst if you squint 𝓢ypnosis. our two favourite academic rivals have a lil fight, but the situation turns bad, and people realize their feelings. 𝓦𝓒 . 824 𝓒𝓦 . mentions of being hospitalised (sophia), a little angsty!

𝓝ote! this is a little messy since I wrote it during one of my breaks, but please lmk if you want like a part two cuz I really liked this plot!

---

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

At this point it didn’t even matter if you were better than everyone, you just had to be better than her. It started off very simple, both of you wanted to be better than everyone, academically that is. Eagerly waiting to get tests back and see who got a higher score, a smug grin on one's face when they got a better result than the other. No harm in that right? Wrong, that’s what started all of this.

Sophia walked towards me with her head held high, her uniform as neat as ever and her hair styled in a way making her look almost angelic. Wait, what? “What were your results?” She said, slamming her paper on top of my desk, I shook out of my daydreaming to answer her. “96.” I said while looking down in my maths book, trying to solve an equation but still focusing on what she would respond. She looks away and a teasing smirk spreads on her lips, and moves the finger that covered her results, 97. “Guess I’m just better than you huh?” She said proudly, staring down at me “Just because you got one point more than me doesn’t mean you’re better than me.” I said, pouting a little at her accusation.

Lately I’ve been feeling kind of… weird? Even if Sophia gets a higher score than me, I can’t find it in me to give a fuck. “Well, you’ve been slacking off a lot lately, I’ve gotten higher scores than you on the last four tests. So, I think that makes it obvious who's smarter!” Sophia states like it was the most obvious answer to what I said. Staring at her for a moment, I reply. “I've been busy okay, not everyone has that much free time to spend on studying, and you're talented in general, no wonder you get high scores” She looks shocked at my statement, then she smirks a little, “Did you just admit that I'm smart?” She looked proud in some way or another, “Not what I meant Sophia, but whatever floats your boat.” I grab my things from the desk and walk outside the classroom to my locker, a little frustrated at the whole situation. I did miss her response,

“I study that much so you won't think I'm stupid.”

A week goes by, no Sophia in sight. She missed two assignments, she's usually here every day. Even if she's sick, which I don't get why she does, but still. Did something happen to her? Was it something I did?

“You've been zoning out for the past like, three periods, what is going on with you today?” Lara, my best friend asks. “Do you know where Sophia is?” I ask, not really thinking before I ask. “Why do you want to know, don't you guys like, hate each other?” She looks at me with a very questionable look, suspecting something I cannot grasp, “Yes? No? I don't know Lara, but do you know where she is?” I say, a little confused and concerned. She looks at me with sad eyes before replying, “Y/N, Sophia got really sick out of nowhere, I heard she's at the hospital.” My eyes blew wide at the shocking news, why didn't she tell me? No, why would she do that? We're not even friends.

—

Am I really doing this? I think to myself as I open the hospital doors and stumble up to the kind-looking man in the lobby. I strike up a casual conversation with him as he guides me to a room, I thank him quickly before he scurries away.

There in the little window on the door I see her, Sophia's sitting down on the bed. Her hair is a mess and her clothes look ridiculous, it looks like she hasn't slept for a few days too. I gently open the door and her gaze falls upon me, it's easier to see her face now. She looks tired, really tired. “Hey…” I say, she looks away from me and cuddles up in her sitting position. “What are you doing here?” she tries to sound annoyed, but it just comes out in a tired huff. “I heard what happened, I… was worried about you. I brought some notes from the classes you missed.” She looks shocked at my confession, she relaxes her posture and her gaze becomes soft. “Thank you… I really appreciate it.” She smiles a little as she grabs the papers I handed her, our hands touching softly.

I look at her, really look at her. For the first time actually having time to admire how pretty she looks, how perfect her flaws are. “I just came to give you that… so if you don't need anything else, I'll go.” I turn around to walk away, grabbing the door knob and turning it around, “Wait! Will you… please stay with me a little longer, I need it.

I need you.”

this is so messy I'm sorrrrryyyy!! I wanted to post something today at least :((

[peaches2217]

My first therapy appointment in several months went really well! I’m returning to the councilor I’ve had for a couple years now. I updated her on my transition journey because the last time I saw her was a couple weeks before I started on T; I told her about coming out to my dad last night, and how disappointing it was.

The ensuing conversation was both productive, and so fucking validating.

My recent depressive episode? Complicated by an event with a former friend, but set into motion, and dragged out for so long, because of the stress of what was to come. My voice has gotten too low to even PRETEND it’s just a holdover from being sick or part of allergies or what have you. I’ve known for the past month that the time to tell my dad was coming. The fear of his reaction and the consequences it could bring since I’m currently in a financially vulnerable place was killing me.

And as we talked, I figured out that the unpredictability is still my only real, big fear: my dad promised me he wouldn’t kick me out, but there’s that lingering fear that he could change his mind, and even if he doesn’t, he could start draining my paychecks — I told him my GAC, insurance copays and all, has been coming exclusively out of my pocket, so I get the sneaking suspicion he’s gonna take advantage of us sharing a bank account and deepen that financial dependency. And above all, I’m afraid of losing our relationship. I’m okay with him not accepting my identity so long as he doesn’t treat me any differently in spite of it. But if he starts pulling away or pushing me away or withholding love as punishment for following down a path he disapproves of, what then?

My counselor told me that, sad as it is, I can’t control how he chooses to react. But I have my mom and brother’s support, my girlfriend’s support, and an online community of friends; if I lose my relationship with him, that’s ultimately his decision and his loss, and no matter what he does, I won’t face it alone.

I had hoped that assuring him I felt God’s peace in my choices and that I’d spent years praying over the situation would at least sorta put him at ease, but all he did was infantilize and illegitimize my entire experience as guided by evil and selfishness. I can’t reason with him or come to a happy medium with him like I did with my mom. The faith he’s praised me for sticking close to he’s now decided is all lies and self-delusion simply because he doesn’t like the conclusions I’ve come to. Nothing I do will satisfy or convince him… so why waste energy trying?

I just have to live with his disappointment, and as much as it hurts, it’s also freeing. I’ve done all I can do. I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to live with the stress of what will happen once he knows, because for better or worse, he knows now. If he doesn’t like it, so be it. I’ve laid my cards down, and how things progress between us is entirely up to him. When I put aside my stress over our relationship, I feel nothing but confidence and happiness and certainty. If he thinks this is a mistake… well, he’s gotta let me make my mistakes. I spent 20+ years not doing anything for fear of what bad might happen, and that left me a suicidal wreck by age 18. I won’t sit by and let ominous warnings and premonitions hold me back any longer. It COULD be a mistake, or it COULD be the best decision I’ve ever made. How will I know if I freeze up in fear?

My counselor noted several times that I look, sound, and act more confident than she’s ever seen from me. Without the pressure of keeping secrets, I’m able to more easily sort between what thoughts are mind and what thoughts my dad, my trauma, or both have planted in my head. I can say with my whole chest that I feel I’m going in the right direction. I can even say “Fuck it, my dad’s approval or disapproval is on him, not me” with greater conviction. I’m acting on things I’ve wanted from the moment we first spoke, and she says the positive change it’s made radiates off of me. She said she’s extremely proud of the progress I’ve made.

I’ll be seeing her again next week, then dropping down to seeing her every other week. In spite of how relatively poorly last night went, I feel empowered. God I’m so glad to be back.

[darnell-la]

Hii, I was wondering if you wrote for Scott Summers? <3

note: here is a little smut for Scott Summers. We’ve never written about this character, but we will start. We’ve had a few requests about him. They will be answered soon!

———

“It’s been a long day!” Scott said in the shower as y/n entered his room, already dressed in her nightgown. They used to occasionally lay together until a week ago when they finally did it. Ever since he’s asked her to stay with him.

“I know, with you and your friend Logan,” y/n snickered as Scott groaned loudly and shut off the shower to get out and dry himself off.

“That son of a bitch. Can’t work without him askin’ about me and you. Did you know he could smell us? Fuckin’ perv,” Scott shook his head, sounding upset but in actuality, he liked the thought of people or someone knowing you were with him.

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” y/n said as she got under the covers. She’s had a long day as well, but she knew it wasn’t as bad as Scott’s. Dealing with Logan isn’t something everyone wants to do.

“Could go for a snack,” Scott yawned as he made his way out of his bathroom. “I’m already tucked in,” y/n said as she turned around to face Scott and god, he looked amazing. He always did.

“C’mon, babe — I’m hungry,” the man said, still not looking at the young lady as he dried his hair. “I’m sure,” y/n scanned the man’s body. The man was lean, and his v-line pocked out hard.

“Fine,” the man sighed as he threw the towel away and finally looked at y/n. Seeing her lost at the view of his wet body, made him smirk.

“I-I’m just tired,” y/n shook herself out of her thoughts as she tucked herself deeper into his covers. “Is that so?” The man said as he walked towards the bed, watching her chest rise.

“Yes, now, come on,” y/n said, avoiding eye contact as he crawled on the bed. She thought he’d lie next to her, but instead, the man hovered over her, looking right into her shy eyes.

“Maybe I already have a snack right here,” Scott spoke low, body leaning down and going under the covers. “Scott, I- Not right now,” y/n said, hands running through his hair, but she knew he wouldn’t. He was an eater. He couldn’t hoop himself.

“Ssh,” was all he said as he spread this hits thighs, taking a nice look at the wet patch she had. She was always wet, and he was always ready.

“I know you just showered, but fuck, y/n — How do you get this soaked?” Scott teased with a laugh as he hooked onto y/n’s panties and pulled them to the side, revealing her pimpled lips.

“D-Don’t know,” y/n awkwardly laughed, trying to stay calm, but when Scott was this close to her, it was hard. “Of course, you don’t, baby,”

Scott had wasted no time sucking onto y/n’s cunt, taking her folds in his mouth before French kissed her bud.

“F-Fuck, Scott,” y/n grabbed the sheets as her feet curled. “Mhm hm?” He hummed into her heat, sending a shock throughout her body.

“Shit, I- Oh my god,” she tried taking deep breaths, but the way he slobbered all over her cunt, made it hard to keep quiet.

Was this what Logan was talking about? Could he smell the sex? Does everyone know about her and Scott?

Y/n felt a small panic, but that soon turned into lust. The thought of people knowing Scott claimed her made her feel something she’d never felt before.

“G-Gonna- Gonna-“ y/n tried saying as her body locked up, and her skin felt numb. A harsh orgasm was pulled from her. She came all over Scott’s face, making him lick at her to get it all out and into his mouth. He loved her taste. She tastes amazing.

[hanmaitani]

Equals

PAIRING - Faerie Prince!Kita Shinsuke x Wingless Faerie!Reader WC - 0.9K GENRE - smut CW - mating press, talk of an heir, praise, slight wing play... i really just needed to get back into the smut and him

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

“Equal.” Shinsuke’s voice was heavy in your ear as you basked in the warm afternoon atmosphere filling up your small home. With the window open, the breeze makes the small crystals hanging from your ceiling chime softly, light playing off of them and refracting around your room.

You and Shinsuke had been holed up in your little home every time he’s come over since the winter ball. It had begun with you asking more and more questions about life at the palace, as the prince. You took his newly revealed role with more grace than he thought you would. Part of him had expected you to hold on to your anger for longer.

But the curiosity and conversations had quickly turn into how you were now, under him, legs around his waist, nails skimming the edges of his wings as he fucks you into your bed. The sound of skin on skin is nearly drowned out by the heavy panting coming from the man above you and the soft whines coming from your own lips.

“Come on, my love, say it for me,” he prompts you yet again, his way of drilling his praise into your head while you’re dizzy.

You can barely breathe, the way he’s so attentive to your needs. Your words come out more like little sighs, barely getting enough force behind them to be truly considered words. “E-equal,” you breathe, “we-we’re equals.”

He’s been reminding you of it non-stop, trying to convince you that even though he’s your prince, your future king, he’s still just Shinsuke to you, and you’re still his love.

“One day you’ll be my queen,” he mumbles in between his moans. They’re words that he used to think about but now he can speak them aloud, now that you know who he is. The promises make your head dizzy, make you want to question if it’s truly possible. “You’d be my queen, right?”

You can’t question him when he sounds so sincere, so drunk on you, so in love with you. “Yes.” Your affirmations are always breathy, paired with pretty moans as he rewards you for your agreement.

You always get so dizzy when he gets like this, his soft pants in your ear as he praises your every arch, whimper and whine. Your nails dig into his shoulders and it only spurs him on. You don’t mean to do it, your sharp nails mean to claw at his back, to drag him closer to you. It’s a miscalculation as your nails scrape harshly against his delicate wings.

His sharp hiss of pain brings you back to your senses. Your eyes widen and your hands jerk away from him, panic entering your voice. “I’m so sorry, oh my god-” you almost whimper as you pull back to see his face all scrunched up in… but he doesn’t look like he’s in pain. “Shinsuke?” you question quietly.

��Fuck,” his voice is gravelly and his cheeks are flushed profusely. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, “do it again.” He’s nearly panting and you open your mouth to question him but he grabs your hands and drags them back to his wings. “Go on, my love, they’re yours to touch. Do it again.”

You nearly whimper as you hesitate, your fingers brushing the delicate things gently, unsure of being so harsh again. But the gentle touch only seems to set him off, his eyes rolling slightly as he moans. You question if they’ve always been this sensitive, if every time you’ve brushed them he’s held back a moan like that. It’s enough for you to touch them a little more firmly.

You let out a soft squeal, your nails scraping against him in surprise when his palms find the backs of your thighs, unwrapping your legs from his waist and pressing them to your chest in a fluid motion. The angle is dizzying and new and it makes you see stars almost immediately.

“Shinsuke…” his name turns into a whine as you feel him press into you further, feeling him stretching you out more than he ever has before.

You’re the one panting now as he folds his body over yours, his forehead resting against yours so he can take in how pretty you look scrunching up your face in an effort to accommodate him pushing deeper into you than he ever has before.

“You look so beautiful, my love,” he mutters, catching your next moan with his lips as he kisses you. “You’d be a beautiful queen,” you whine out as he punctuates the thought with a thrust, your fingers grasping for his wings again, earning yourself a loud groan in return. “Fuck.” He curses and pants as he picks up his pace, erratic and dizzying for the both of you as you moan against his mouth.

“My love, carry my heir…” You think you mishear him for a moment until he lifts up slightly, his hands folding you impossibly more, his thrusts knocking the air out of you. “Won’t you?” he asks, and there’s a hint of pleading behind his tone that had you looking up at him with a dazed expression on your face. “Please,” he whispers, and it breaks you, “please, please, let me give you my heir.”

You can’t help how you nod. “Wanna give you everything you want, Shinsuke,” you mumble and scrape down his wings again, reveling in how he hisses for it, “please.”

TAGLIST - OPEN

@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @qichun @yellowsakurablossoms @ibby-miyoshi-nerd

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[collegeoflore]

rotating post-game xarrai and astarion in my mind. if u even care

[aspacewar]

I am,,, feeling so incredibly normal today, about my imaginary D&D dude and their train-wreck of a life

Sorry mutuals & followers I’m gonna be Worse than normal today I swear I’ll shut the fuck up soon

Need a separate blog for D&D shit honestly

[screampied]

❛ TOO SWEET! ❜

geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.

total wc. 3.0k

warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise

an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.

CHOSO ☆ KAMO

“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…

he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”

“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.

choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.

choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.

he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..

it really was that bad…

“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”

“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.

it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”

your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.

one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.

he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.

“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”

“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”

his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.

“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”

SUGURU ☆ GETO

“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”

geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”

“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.

and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.

geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.

“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.

you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.

“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”

he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.

his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.

“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.

the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.

“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.

it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.

his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.

“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.

geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“sweetheart..”

is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”

“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”

with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.

“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”

“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.

and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”

you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.

he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.

nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”

you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.

his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”

“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”

you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.

one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.

“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.

“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care. 

the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.

eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.

yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji. 

“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.

he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.

“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact. 

his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”

and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.

his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.

“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.

his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm. 

toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.

slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes. 

he came early.

toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.

“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan. 

“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.

“say what?”

he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”

“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face

“…you heard me, whore.”

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.

the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”

“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.

his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.

“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”

“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”

he was so desperate.

you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.

gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.

his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”

“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.

“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.

gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.

“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.

you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.

he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.

“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.

that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.

“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”

“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.

you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”

“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.

his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”

[tonycries]

WAP!

Synopsis. How was he expected to not lose control the first time he goes in raw?

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, mating press, jealousy (Nanami’s side), improper use of Gojo’s technique, true form! Sukuna, dp, praise, creampíe, spítting, really REALLY needy pússydrunk boys, cúmplay, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.6k (whoops)

A/N. Got a bit carried away but oh well hehehe.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “A-another?”

Toji Fushiguro never stutters, he never sounds unsure, he never lets that deep baritone voice of his break so pathetically at the end of his sentence. 

Except for now, that is.

With you folded into such a mean mating press, spreading your shaky legs to flash him that heavenly view. As if that wasn’t enough to have Toji’s head spinning already, you give him a hazy, determined nod, “Another.”

Another. Oh, it’s all he can do to hold back a guttural groan when thumbing apart your puffy folds, eyeing the way you were clenching up at him eagerly.

“Another, huh?” Toji echoes, his free hand coming up to slide back that thin layer of plastic on his swollen cock. Slow. Torturously slow. Hissing at the cool air kissing his aching length, “Then-” He glides his leaky tip across your glossy entrance, smirking at the way you arch into it like such a slut. “-this pretty cunt better actually give me another kid, doll.”

And then Toji’s pushing in - slow, ruthless little pistons of his hips that have you scrambling further and further up the mattress. Veins pulsing against your plushy walls in a feverish thump! thump! thump! 

Of course, he wasn’t faring any better. 

“O-oh.” Toji throws his head back, brows scrunching at the feeling of your sweet sweet cunt. “So this is- fuck- what ya feel like, hm? Hold on- wait- wanna test something-” 

“Ngh! Oh-” you squeal when two thick fingers dip down to toy with your throbbing clit, bucking your hips up in a way that has Toji sinking in deeper. Blinking away the shocked tears behind your lids, “T-Toji– don’t be mean.”

But you doubted he could hear you - fuck, you doubted Toji was even breathing at this point. Because his eyes were widened, jaw dagging open ever-so-slightly to moan, “Fuck- oh my god- ya squeeze me ngh- even tighter without that fucking condom.”

And he’s so fucking awe-struck - and you’re being fucked so dumb - that you don’t even realize it when he’s bottoming out. Still pushing in, trying to squeeze even deeper into your gummy walls. 

“F-fuck can’t believe you’ve been holdin’ out.” he spits, sounding so genuinely bewildered, pulling your hips back messily to meet his. Heavy balls smacking you with each rough, depraved thrust inside. “Ohhh m’never letting ya hold out on me again, doll.”

Your nails leave angry, red marks down, down, down his sculpted back. Glassy eyes begging - pleading for any once of mercy for the monster you’ve brought on. “N-never?”

He gives your ravaged clit a light smack! with the pads of his fingers - both a little punishment and a sneaky little way to feel you clamp down on his thick cock in surprise again. Huffing out a low laugh, “Yeahhh you’re not getting off easy. Never.” And, usually, Toji was so suave, so infuriatingly in control - but right now he’s running his mouth as sloppily as his hips. Panting into your open mouth, “Gonna hafta let me f-feel this cute pussy all the fuckin’ time now. Gonna hafta let me breed her.”

And shit it wasn’t enough. It’ll never be enough. 

In a split second, Toji falls back onto his knees, pulling you upright to splay out so prettily on his lap. The change in position pushing him in deeper and deeper and-

“That’s what I hah- like to see-” One hand squishes your cheeks together and forces you to look down at the way your poor pussy was bulging and struggling around Toji’s cock. So so angry and drenched with all your syrupy sweet juices, glistening all the way down to his twitching balls. “Ya look so much oh- shit- better drooling all over me and not some condom, doll.” Toji’s sharp teeth graze your ear, abs rippling underneath your touch as fucks up into you so animalistically. So ferally. Sharp, long jabs of his hips, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over. “N’ even better when she’s ngh- painted white, right?”

The only response you’re stupidly giving him are a handful of teary whimpers, thighs burning with the wet smack of skin on skin. 

And the way you’re bucking down pathetically to meet his ruthless cadence, but you don’t  even realize that until Toji lets out a strangled groan. “Heh, ya like that?”

“Mhm.” you whine. “L-like it so- much- like feeling you like this- ah-”

He’s pulling you into a messy kiss - if it can even be called that, just a lazy, messy drag of his lips and that scar against your lolling open mouth, “Tha’s my girl. Ya like feeling me raw, hm?” Each word nudges his fat head against your bruised g-spot in a way that has Toji so drunk, so high off you and that pretty cunt. Twiddling a thumb on your sensitive nub. Over and over and over. “Ya like the ohh- fuck- idea of giving me another? Making Megs a big brother?”

“Yes! Fuck yes yes yes I-”

Toji doesn’t hear the rest of your sentence - nor does he really give a shit. Not when your cute cunt is squeezing around him so fucking tight that it was almost hard to ram his cock inside. 

Milking the fucking soul out of him as you cum, a broken little ah! ah! ah! leaves your mouth when with a couple, sloppy thrusts Toji can’t help but paint your pussy a sinful white. Thick, hot ropes of his seed that slosh inside your gummy walls - cumming and cumming so much that he feels it drip out your slit.

Meshing together in a lewd combination at the soaked base of his still-rock hard cock, one that makes Toji keen gruffly. Pooling his seed on the pads of his fingers, he bullies them back into your still-stuffed hole, “So…are we sure it took?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Right here right now

Everyone knows Nanami Kento as a patient man - a sensible one. The one person at the office they could trust with anything and everything.

Only you knew Nanami Kento as the type of man to just drag you into the break room in the middle of the work day, spitting out a barely-there excuse about “a meeting” to the rest of your confused coworkers. When in reality he was shoving you near the nearest flat surface and bunching your cute skirt up at your hips. 

“Ken- what-” you sputter in a daze, blinking up at the panting man above you. “What happened?”

The only answer you’re getting is the clink-clink-clink of Nanami’s belt unbuckling, stray strands of blond sticking to his furrowed forehead as he takes in your slutty position. 

Scoffing, “Can you at least tell me what-”

Your words die in your throat at the feeling of something so warm and rock-hard making a mess of you down below. And - sure enough - you’re met with the sight of Nanami’s fingers nudging apart your flimsy panties - just enough for his fat head to kiss against your puffy folds. Sending a fresh wave of your slick coating his hand once more. 

“Don’t have a condom.” he speaks to you properly for the first time since coming in here, gruff and strained against your ear. “Guess we’ll hafta make do, darling.”

Fuck, you’ve never gone without a condom with your boyfriend before - but now that you’ve felt the sensation of his deep slit rubbing against your hole, the dip of his veins tracing against your walls, well, shit you think you might just be addicted. 

Nanami isn’t too far behind - because he lets out a deep groan. “O-oh. Fuck, remind me to do this more often.” Chest heaving as he pulls out ever-so-slightly, only to run a fist down his length, smearing your syrupy sweet juices in a glossy sheen along his cock. “Who said you can feel this haah- fucking good, my love? This all f’me?”

It’s only with this that you’re realizing that he still hasn’t explained yet. 

Reaching out a hand to pull on Nanami’s favorite yellow tie, you bring his face mere millimeters from yours. Breathing out, “E-explain or m’walking out.” 

You wouldn’t - you knew that. And Nanami did too, but that didn’t stop that greedy part of himself from stilling inside your puffy folds, having you struggling and clenching with the effort to take in his girth. 

“Jus’ wanted to hah- feel you. To really feel you.” he’s nosing up your racing pulse. Strong hands pushing your legs so far apart on the table that it burned. “To actually prove to this cute pussy that she’s mine. S’that s-so wrong?” He’s fucking you like he wants to prove a point - in long, purposeful strokes that roam for your g-spot. Gritting out, “Especially when you’re so warm. So heavenly. N’ some people here can’t take a hint.”

Ah, so that’s what it was all about - that new intern at the office who seemed particularly attached to you lately. Enough so that it had Nanami acting like this - not that you were complaining, obviously. 

No sooner is the realization hitting you that Nanami’s smashing into your sensitive spot. Hard.

A large hand hastily covers your mouth as soon as it sags open. Only growing more and more desperate when Nanami starts up a quick tempo. Hitting it over and over and over- “Shhh shhh, darling.” he groans, fucking you deeper and deeper into the table. “I know it’s good. Ngh- oh my god you feel fucking perfect- But we wouldn’t want ‘em to hear, right? Though-” And then he’s flashing such an uncharacteristically smug smile, gaze just devouring you through his long lashes. “-wouldn’t mind ‘em knowing that you’re mine.”

And it seems like he was torn between forming coherent thoughts and just rambling about how sinfully good you felt. 

“K-Ken-”

But Nanami wasn’t done - far from it, in fact. He was running his mouth, words slurring and stumbling with each jolt of his hips forward. 

“Shh, let me do all the work, darling.” Drawing gentle, purposeful circles on your clit, “Jus’ sit there n’- hngh- let me feel this pussy some more. Let her soak me some more. Been waitin’ for this too long- oh- They’d never know, right?”

It’s all you can do to nod, barely-lucidly, “N-never. Only you, Ken.”

And now, unfortunately for you and your poor cunt, it just seemed like Nanami was pussydrunk off the feeling of your gummy walls milking the fucking soul out of him. No longer just proving a point - no, oh, he was lost in the way you were so soft. So messy - forming a cute pool of slick on the table below, on his heavy balls. 

Eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Fuck him. Fuck them all.” 

You flinch as he catches your lips to spit out heated little profanities into your open mouth, biting and tugging filthily on yours. Almost babbling at this point, “They’ll n-never know how ngh fucking heavenly this cunt feels. How perfect you’re wrapped around me.”

Both the obscene squelches from below and your broken little whimpers were reaching a feverish height, coupled with Nanami’s rumbling groans. And it’s only when you let out a particularly loud whine of “Ken–” that makes him grow even girthier inside you. 

Stretching you out so good, he lets out a warning whisper. Low and dangerous, “Careful.” Sending a wave of goosebumps down your spine - all the way to your ravaged cunt, “I hear he’s got a meeting here soon.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - The cocky one

“Hah, such a cocky smile, gorgeous.” Geto shakes his head down at where you were on all fours for him. Arched like such a slut against his angry tip, throbbing and glistening between your legs. “You sure you’re oh-”

Whatever mean little retort - and that smirk - is wiped clean off of Geto’s pretty lips when you fuck yourself back onto his rock-hard cock. Gritting your teeth at the sheer stretch when your sloppy hole finds his red, leaky tip, determinedly stuttering him down, down, down until your ass was pressed up against those tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

“W-whoops.” you sigh when your skin smacks against his abs, tone saccharine sweet. “What were you hah- saying, dear?”

Geto lets out a strangled groan, head tipping back, fingers blindly finding your hips to keep them from fidgeting. Fuck, you were so heavenly - so addictive. He could feel himself rubbing up against every ridge and dip of your tight pussy. 

“You little bitch.” he sighs, heavy eyes locked on where the two of you were connected. Your pussy lips bulging so sinfully around him, making him grow even larger. Longer - hitting spots you never knew existed. “Now that’s just ngh- playing unfair.”

Unfair? Oh, you could teach him about ‘unfair’. Unfair was when he’s jutting his hips forward in slow, shallow strokes just to fit inside - no rhythm or rhyme, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Unfair was when he strikes your ass with a sharp smack! grinning at the way the flesh jiggles against his palm.

Unfair is when he leans down to murmur thickly, the change in angle having him barrelling deeper inside your snug cunt. “Isn’t it?”

“N-no.” your lower lip wobbles. 

“N-n-no.” Geto grins, “Stuttering too? That’s crazy, what happened to my smug girl from- hah- before- oh fuck-” 

But oh for all how cocky Geto was acting, he was so weak against the way your gummy walls clench down so fucking tight around him - on purpose. Stuttering down to milk him like you wanted to draw out something delicious. Like you couldn’t stand being even a hair’s breadth away. 

“Haaa…” he lets out a broken shudder, two hands wrapping underneath your inner thighs to just drag your sloppy further down, settling deep - so impossibly deep - into your gut. Distantly, some part of him hoped that you left marks - a cute lil’ ass print against his abs for him to admire later. “Fuck- fine. Fine-” 

You whirl your teary eyes over your shoulder - and it was so difficult to look behind you. Because Geto was so unfairly pretty - long, inky hair curtaining his pussydrunk eyes, twirling all the way down to where his delicate blush dusted all over his cheeks, his chest, his rock-hard abs. Involuntarily, you find your sloppy cunt clenching again, rubbing up so deliciously against that prominent vein down the middle of Geto’s length. 

That coaxes out another drawn-out groan from your boyfriend, and a traitorous buck of his hips - his fat head hitting right on your g-spot. “I said fine.” he barks out, teeth bared. “Y-you win. Ngh- you win the bet. Fuuuck you win, just let me- ngh just let me fuck this pretty cunt. Now.”

Ah, right. The bet - that single, mindless little comment earlier today about who’d break first if you two went in raw. 

And, clearly, there was an obvious winner. 

Because Geto isn’t waiting around for your kiss-bitten lips to drop into some taunting remark, hell, he can’t even wait for you to register his words before letting his hips lose control. Ramming into you in quick, jagged thrusts that abuse your hidden sweet spots. 

Over and over and-

“Y’feel so soft, gorgeous.” he purrs into your ear, pushing all his all his body weight in an attempt to hold your slutty cunt still. Setting up such a mean pace, “So warm- ngh n’ m’tired of pretending it isn’t driving me crazy.”

You keen when Geto cranes his fingers to deftly roll over your clit, “S-so much for not breaking first.”

“Awww c’mon now.” Geto’s balls smacking against your ass get louder - harsher. “I already s-said you win. Hah-” God, he’s barely in control of himself with the way he catches your lips in a messy clash of a kiss. Hot tongue nudging apart your plump lips to spit a steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Some of it missing and splattering against the corner of your mouth, “N’ you know what m- ngh- buying you as a p-prize?”

Your knees are weakening pathetically now, sliding further and further apart on the silky sheets with each harsh slam of his cock - only to be pulled back up by an impatient Geto. 

“Do you?” he hisses, pistoning his hips so hard now that your knees were hovering midair - held up by a frenzied Geto. Who plows on deliriously, “Gonna buy ya- nghh fuck- the pill. So many- cuz you’re gonna fuckin’ need it-”

And need it you did. 

Because it only takes a few more seconds of this maddening song and dance before Geto’s cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t - wouldn’t want to - stop.

Pumping thick, hot rope after rope of his seed until your high was crashing into his. Until his cock was so raw and twitching sensitively. Until his balls were squeezing so painfully, tears stinging behind his eyelids with each ram into your fluttering pussy. 

“Best out of three?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Overheat

Oh this was a dream - or heaven. Maybe both. Because here was Choso sprawled out so prettily on his damp navy sheets, dark hair untied, half-lidded eyes gazing up at a sly angel - you - straddling his toned hips.  

Pussy lips swollen and drooling down where you were positioning his fat, leaky head right at where just a simple nudge of Choso’s squirming hips would have you split apart on his swollen cock - raw. 

“Cho~” your heady voice breaks through his stunned reverie, “You alright, baby?”

“Y-yes.” his words catch in his heaving chest. And Choso’s so embarrassed - still so stuck on the heavenly view below - that he’s barely even registering the hand of his that makes its way down to rest on your steady waist. “Just that-”

And then Choso’s giving an impatient tug on the fat of your hips, inching you so agonizingly close to his needy, red tip. So close he could practically feel you already - he could imagine how soft and warm you were bound to be.

You huff out a low chuckle, “Awww poor baby.” Grinning at the way your boyfriend takes one of tits into his mouth to muffle his embarrassed whine. He alternates between sucking and rolling his tongue over your sensitive nipples, “Is this what you- hah- want?”

And the way you sandwich his thick cock between your slit has Choso’s ministrations on your nipple stuttering. Whispering out a muffled little, “Y-yeah…”

“Louder.”

“...”

Tutting, “Or, I could just get a condom since you’re so shy-”

“No!” Choso rasps out wetly, and the sudden outburst seems to startle you both. But especially Choso who only blabbers, pussydrunk and slurring already, “No no no no no- need this-” He claws at your hips, edging you closer and closer to sit on his soaked, twitching cock. Bucking his hips up wildly, the slick coating your dripping cunt making him slide messily across your folds once. Twice. “Need you so bad- wan’ feel you wanna feel this pretty pussy- ngh- please. Fuck!”

Both of you let out a synchronous moan when he finally manages to sink his fat head inside your sloppy entrance. So thick, stretching you open so well despite not even being halfway in.

“F-fuck.” Choso’s hazy eyes widen, and he immediately flattens his feet on the bed before pulling back. Only for his poor, oversensitive balls to squeeze so painfully- before covering your dripping cunt in rope after rope of his seed. Your pussy too heavenly, his sanity too gone. “Sh-shit m’sorry m’sorry- ngh.”

Your eyes widen, “Ch-Cho did you-” 

But he doesn’t let you finish - was probably too embarrassed to before stuffing your gaping, needy hole with his thick cock again. And again. And again and again trying to relieve that first time. “Oh, is this okay? Is this r-really okay?”

You don’t even know what he’s asking about - not when Choso’s sliding you deeper and deeper down his cock. Sculpted body bowing into yours when he starts bouncing you up and down like his favorite sextoy - reveling in the lewd squelches below and those pretty moans leaving your lips. 

“S’your fault, y’know?” he pants, ragged. Hips fucking up uncontrollably, drunk off the feeling. “Y-your ohhh fuck- your pussy feels too good, baby. N’ she’s s-so soft. So warm with my cum.”

And it was so sloppy, your boyfriend was never one to shy away from making a mess out of you both but this. Oh, you were losing your fucking mind with his harsh pace, letting that lewd combination of his cum and your slick glisten all over his abs, your thighs, your filthy cunt. All the way down to where his heavy balls were sure to leave marks for tomorrow - right alongside his pelvis against your thighs, fingers on your hips. 

“Y-you’re so-” you lean over to dig your nails into Choso’s pecs, and he takes the opportunity to bite and tease your poor nipples once more. “-filthy, Cho.”

He swallows, and fuck you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier. Adam’s apple bobbing, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed and miles away. “It’s this hah- p-pretty pussy, baby. R-raw? Seriously? She’s driving me insane.”

At that last, broken word of his sentence, Choso throws his head back as if merely remembering that there was no little plastic separating his throbbing cock from your gummy cunt was enough to make him go crazy. 

Hips pistoning up faster, molding your cunt to his shape. Bruising your g-spot with each thrust - and your cervix, too, just as a little stray reminder that you’re his from the inside out. Gasping out, “Just look at her.”

When you snap your head down, he’s already spreading apart your puffy folds with two fingers, giving you the perfect view of that creamy sheen, Choso’s reckless, maddening hips, the way your cunt was bulging and soaking his painfully hard cock. 

Only getting sloppier. Harder. Drunk with each thrust. 

“She’s so pretty.” he grits out, “So heavenly. Might just b-be my new hah- obsession.” Just babbling nonsense in strained, jagged words that come out after each brush of his fat tip against your g-spot. So hard that you were stumbling precariously on top of his wild hips. “Yeah- new obsession. My heavenly obsession” he eyes down your quivering thighs, those breathy moans that told him you were close.“N’ I wonder how much more heavenly you’d be if I cum inside?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Take both, dammit.

“B-both?”

The only response you get are Sukuna’s fingers tightening around your throat, sharp nails dragging dangerously over your racing pulse. Pulling your dazed face closed to gift you with a low, cocky hum, “Both.”

And then you can’t breathe - not because of the large hand taking its place around your neck, no, but because Sukuna was suddenly nudging his weeping, fat tips against your sloppy entrance. Lips curling up into a devilish grin at how you were quivering in- fear? Anticipation? 

Either way it had you keening tearily, “Kuna it won’t- fit!”

“Hmm,” Sukuna purses his lips in mock-thought, free hand dipping down to roll his index against your clit. “Let’s ask her why don’t we?” Any and every noise of surprise you manage to yelp out are overshadowed by the most obscene squelches you’ve ever heard in your life. Like Sukuna was well and fully intent on proving his point by circling his thumb around your sloppy hole until you gave up. And he was. “She says she’s just dying to take it. What’s your excuse, brat?”

Truly, it was the first time you’ve tried taking both your boyfriend’s massive cocks - and just one of them required specially made condoms and such extensive teasing and toying to stretch you out enough. 

So one thing was sure - you weren’t making it out alive. 

You’re startled out of your reverie by a dark chuckle from above - shit, did you say that out loud? “Well, only one way to find out.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - both at once. Fat heads bumping into each other as Sukuna grinds against your snug pussy in shallow, short rolls of his hips. 

“Tch.” he clicks his tongue when your feeble ring of resistance struggles to take him. A warm hand of his comes down to soothe over your head slowly, gently - uncharacteristically so. Whispering, “Shhhh, shhh breathe. You got this. You can take it- hah- you always do, right?” Hips getting just a bit more forceful. A bit more calculated. “You can-” Before that sweet hand on your hair tightens to push you down, hard. “-take it.”

Oh, you should’ve known - should’ve gotten an inkling that the king of curses always gets what he wants. Always. 

“Oh my god- oh my god, Kuna! S’so deep-”

A startled smile spreads over Sukuna’s face, eyes widening in surprise. “Ohh, shit. Shit, brat.” He angles his head just right to spy down - just to make sure. “If I knew you felt ngh- th-this good, I’d have done it sooner Much, much sooner.”

But fuck for how cocky he was acting right now, Sukuna was in fucking heaven. 

Dipping his head down to hide the blush dusting his cheeks, and that euphoric glint in his eyes, Sukuna starts moving in hurried, methodical little thrusts to squeeze even deeper inside. 

“Hngh- it’s- ah- can feel you rubbing up inside me, Kuna.” you whine into his ears, hips bucking up wildly. 

“Yeah?” he breathes, but it comes out more wobbly than he intended. Biting his lower lip to keep those loud fucking moans slipping out from the feeling of rubbing against himself and your raw gummy walls and himself. “Y-ya like this? What happened to ‘o-oh s’too big, Kuna’?”

You manage to get out a weak, “F-fuck you.” 

“No, brat. I’m fucking you.” Sukuna growls, ramming into you faster. Sloppier. Heavy sets of tight balls stinging your skin, “Both of me.”

God, the stretch was so much, like he was pushing into your lungs. And that thundering thump! thump! thump! of matching sets of veins against your dripping cunt was so sinful that you let his little comment slide. Driving you to insanity. 

Instead, your teeth grazes Sukuna’s earlobe to give a soft tug, making him turn his head and look right at your fucked-out face.

His hot breath fans your face, “What, brat? Can’t talk? Or is it that you want-” He catches your ravaged clit between two fingers again, rolling languidly. “-her to talk?”

And God, if it was double the stretch on your too-tight cunt, then Sukuna was determined to make sure it was double the pleasure for you. 

His fingers just so frenzied on your clit, rubbing tight, messy patterns - not even circles anymore because fuck Sukuna was too impatient, too depraved for that right now. Swollen cocks sliding in and out with reckless abandon, getting easier and easier with each glossy sheen of your sweet sweet juices all over them. Massaging all those sensitive spots he’s mapped out so well to hit his end goal - your poor, ravaged g-spot. Hitting it over and over and over and-

“Kuna!” you scramble for the sheets, the headrest, his shoulders - just anything to keep whatever’s left of your sanity. Sobbing out, “I-I’m close- ngh ah! I’m so close.”

“Close, hah?” you hear from above you, the last thing before the smacking of skin-on-skin becomes almost deafening. Coupled with Sukuna’s strained groans, now unable to hold them back with each time he’s kissing your cervix - your g-spot. “Then cum. Cum all over my cocks, brat.”

Hips stuttering as they get harsher with purpose. Violent, even - having to rest a hand on top of your head to keep your body from being jolted too far up the bed.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. You’re screaming out Sukuna’s name, body bowing into his vice-like grip. Dripping cunt trying desperately to milk him so tight.

It was too much. 

Your poor pussy was overfilled to the brim with each and every spurt of Sukuna’s hot cum, thick, white globs that dribble down your thighs. Filling you up so much you think you could explode and- “Aww look at you.” Sukuna coos, thumbing apart your pussy lips to watch her soak in his never ending cum. “Wonder if she can take another load?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Experiment…

The great Gojo Satoru is many things - powerful, complex, a pain-in-the-ass to most - but being hesitant to experiment is decidedly not one of these things. 

Which is what found you splayed out underneath him, brows furrowed, legs trembling while he drags his weeping tip up and down your puffy folds. Just dipping between your lips, pooling your sweet sweet juices on his head - up and down up and down up and-

“Toru.” your deadpan voice cuts through his fun, hips arching off the bed impatiently. “S’not gonna work.”

Gojo sticks his tongue out with all the maturity he could muster up, “It will, sweetheart, just watch.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will-” you cut yourself off in frustration, “You’re just all talk-”

Whatever insult on the tip of your tongue - along with all the air in your lungs - is knocked out by Gojo finally pushing in. Finally stretching out your sloppy hole on his thick mushroom tip, all stuttering and clenching in an effort to accommodate him.

He groans, cheeks flushing because fuck maybe this’ll be harder than he thought. “S’gonna work- if I can concen- ohh fuck don’t squeeze me that way- if I can get limitless to- no more late-night convenience store runs.” 

But oh right now the only thing on Gojo’s mind was that maybe you two were better off with walking the two blocks down to buy condoms - because he could feel his limitless slowly thinning out with each inch he sinks into your snug cunt. Slowly waning - much like his fucking sanity. 

“Toru!” you squeal when it’s like something snaps. That little glow in your boyfriend’s eyes dims as his entire body stiffens, breath hitching in his throat, and his cock- oh his aching, rock-hard cock - so warm and just throbbing so rapidly against your walls in a beat that matches your own. You could feel him all the way in your stomach. “D-did it work?”

Something is whispered into the crook of your neck - and you’re craning your head closer to understand. “What?”

There it is again.

This time, however, you pull Gojo from his safe haven, tugging admonishingly on those soft, white locks. All the while murmuring, “Use your- oh.”

Oh.

Fuck. 

Gojo’s eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown. So utterly wrecked when his aching cock grows even larger inside you, stretching you to your limits. Such a delicate pink blush decorating his cheeks, dusting over those plump, parted lips, ones which wobble and gape open noiselessly a few times before he manages out, “D-didn’t work.”

And fuck then it was like a dam had broken. 

Because Gojo’s previously stalled hips were moving now - grinding forward slowly, deliciously. Only growing girthier - so unfairly so - with each movement. 

Two large hands coming up to paw and knead your ass to keep you still while he begins fucking you into the mattress. 

Letting out whiny, bewildered moans - as if Gojo himself couldn’t believe what was happening - “Didn’t work.” He repeats, like a mantra. “Didn’t work didn’t work didn’t- didn’t work- hah- n’ I don’t regret it one bit.”

“H-hah?” you whimper, “So you’re-”

“Yes.” Gojo interjects, and if you were in any better state of mind you’d have told him off for interrupting you. But oh how could you when he was reeling his hips back, back, back, just kissing your sloppy entrance with his leaky tip - before splitting you apart all over again. “Yes yes yes- oh yes. M’feeling you- all of you. Why the fuck didn’t you t-tell me you were so ngh-” Long fingers graze over your pulsing clit, making him all but scream in pleasure when you clamp down. Hard. “-heavenly!”

Fuck you weren’t making it out alive - and he wasn’t either.

And he sounded so genuinely upset - how were you this warm? This dripping wet all around him? Hell, Gojo thinks he’s soaked all the way down to his heavy balls already.

“Soaked?” your eyes widen when Gojo gives you a shocked laugh - fuck, has he finally lost whatever sanity he had left?

“Mhm.” he nods, a familiar glint of madness in those summer blue eyes. Breathy, pussydrunk little ministration matching his words, “Soaked. Absolutely fucking hah- soaked. Me. Me me me- s’me-” Gojo spits into his open palm, once. Twice. Before smearing the mess down his length, making it easier for him to slide in and out of your needy cunt,  “-not some stupid little piece of plastic. Oh, m’never buying those again-”

He was fucking you so needy. 

Just ramming his cock into you as he pleased, hitting all your most sensitive spots - your cervix, your g-spot, tugging at your clit. Having the bed frame and you making such loud noises every time his thick tip was gliding across your gummy walls, matching with the tempo of his fingers.

“It feel so- good, Toru.” you whine. Hips stuttering forwards, making the most lewd of squelches as you try to meet Gojo’s fast, utterly wild pace. “Fuck fuck fuck- oh.”

“Yeah? My baby likes ngh- taking me in r-raw.” you smile when you catch the way Gojo’s face flushes as his voice cracks on that last word - like he still couldn’t believe it himself. 

Though, he didn’t like that quite as much as you. 

“Huh? Laughing at me? M’gonna ngh- you lil’ minx. M’gonna give you something to laugh about.” Each word punctuated by a mean thrust, and if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have caught the way Gojo’s eyes glowed ever-so-slightly. Tiny pricks of purple lightning dancing across his bare skin, “Because practice makes perfect, right, sweetheart?”

A/N. I’m ngl Gojo’s one was just me wondering how far limitless really went sooo there ya go.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3

tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.

“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.

you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.

satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.

“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”

you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.

“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.

“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.

satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”

your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.

“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”

a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.

you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.

“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.

satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;

“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’

suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ‘treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.

all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?

“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.

“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.

before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”

a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.

“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.

“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.

“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”

your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.

your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.

though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;

“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”

𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’

assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.

“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.

“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.

he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.

by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.

“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”

you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.

toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.

you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;

“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”

𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’

all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.

though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.

“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.

you’re his dinner.

you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.

“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.

you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”

you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.

“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.

one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.

he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;

“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”