#and maybe fall a little in love. then what

[kisses4reid]

protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.

genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)

warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences

w/c - 2.2k

a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading

request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.

“Oh. My. God.”

You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”

“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”

Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.

“Garcia?”

“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,

“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”

She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.

Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.

Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.

“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”

Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”

You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”

In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.

Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.

Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.

What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?

What about a candle lit dinner?

What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’

I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?

Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.

A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.

You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.

“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,

“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”

He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.

You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.

Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.

“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,

“Clear!”

You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.

“Clea-“

The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.

You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.

Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.

He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.

The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."

All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"

The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"

To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.

"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.

You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.

Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.

"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.

"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.

"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.

Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.

"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"

The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"

"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.

He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.

"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.

"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."

You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"

"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m

[milkloafy]

OF SHOULDERS AND SNOOZES — DAN HENG

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: after a long day of exploring the luofu, you doze off on the starskiff ride and fall asleep on caelus’ shoulder. when you wake up, you find yourself lying on dan heng’s shoulder instead… ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, gn!reader, jealous!dan heng ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 0.9k ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alternative summary…you fall asleep on caelus’ shoulder and dan heng gets jealous :> listen i love jealously something about it titillates me jksgdhgk esp jealousy when they don’t even know why they’re jealous AHHH screaming okay pls enjoy c:

Dan Heng knew that traveling within the Xianzhou Luofu could get tiring, especially when you spent all day exploring the place. 

The last stop was back to Central Starskiff Haven from Cloudford in order to get last minute souvenirs and snacks before boarding the Astral Express again. This little trip included Dan Heng, Caelus, and you, and it was simply a little detour before the next big mission. 

Dan Heng was grateful for the opportunity to make new memories in the Luofu with his new friends, rather than the past ones that he had little connection to now. Every since he met you in particular, he noticed the impact you had on his life. Life could be more carefree and happy, and he didn’t have to spend so much time worrying about his past. You easily became one of his closest friends, along with Caelus and March 7th.

And, despite March 7th incessant teasing and implications otherwise, a friend is all you were to him. 

So why, when you fell asleep on Caelus’ shoulder during the starskiff flight back to Central Starskiff Haven, did Dan Heng feel uncomfortable? 

The day was long and he saw the tired look it your eyes. It didn’t surprise him that you dozed off during the ride—you were known to withstand the jumps of the Astral Express and would fall asleep sitting upright on the sofa. It didn’t even surprise him you would lean your head to rest in a more comfortable position.

What Dan Heng didn’t understand is why weren’t you leaning the other way. On Caelus.

Noticing the lingering stare piercing his skin, Caelus shot Dan Heng a grin. 

“You think they’re into me?” goaded Caelus, lighting patting you on the head. You let out a soft breath as you napped. “Maybe that’s why they want to get so close.”

Dan Heng coughed, crossing his arms as he averted his gaze. “No. They’re simply tired.” 

As foolish as it was, he didn’t like seeing the way Caelus was touching you like that, no matter how friendly or harmless. 

“Hmm,” Caelus mused. “But they didn’t choose your shoulder.” 

“They were falling asleep asleep while leaning on you. It wasn’t much of a choice,” said Dan Heng stubbornly, shaking his head with pursed lips. 

“Then why do you look so bitter?”

His face tightened more. “I’m just tired as well.” 

Caelus laughed silently, trying to keep quiet so you wouldn’t wake up, but the small shake of his shoulders was enough to make you stir. 

Dan Heng glared at Caelus and held his shoulder in place. Gently, he adjusted your position so you rested on Dan Heng instead.  He would make sure not to disturb your rest. 

Caelus looked at him with raised brows. 

“I didn’t want you to wake them. That is all,” said Dan Heng. He didn’t mention how the tension left his body as soon as you made contact with him. Or the stirring in his stomach when the scent of your coconut shampoo filled his senses. 

He let out a soft sigh in contentment. Dan Heng wasn’t sure why he felt so much unease when he saw you lying on Caelus, but he was certain he felt better now that you were leaning on him instead.

Caelus leaned his head back, a look of half-amusement, half-disbelief on his face. “Are you sure you two are just friends?”

“That is correct.” 

“Is that all you want?” 

Dan Heng was silent this time. He wasn’t sure what he wanted. But if being more than friends meant you would sleep on his shoulder only, then perhaps that was what Dan Heng would like to pursue. 

As he looked down at your sleeping face, he smiled at the sight of your cheek squished against his shoulder. Warmth immediately filled his chest and he fought the urge to take a photo to capture this moment. 

Finally, he responded to Caelus. “That’s something I want to tell Y/N before I tell anyone else.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Dan Heng let out a small noise of laughter, feeling the starskiff come to a stop and savoring the final moments of you on his shoulder. He didn’t want this time to be the last, and he knew he’d have to do something about it soon. 

As you stirred awake from the sudden stop, you blinked up at him blearily with a tired look on your face. You were still too sleepy to register the fact that you were now on Dan Heng’s shoulder when you first fell asleep on Caelus’. 

“Good morning, Dan Heng,” you mumbled, giving him a small wave. 

Dan Heng’s heart fluttered. He definitely had to confess his feelings to you shortly. 

“Good morning,” he greeted although the sun was down.

“You shoulder is much comfier than Caelus’, I think,” you said as you sat up straight, rubbing your eyes as you awoke from your nap. “I’ll have to borrow it more often.”

His cheeks tinged pink at your words but he nodded along. “You can use it anytime.” 

“Oh, get a room already,” Caelus groaned, ushering Dan Heng and you out of the starskiff. Caelus looked at you crossly. “And my shoulder is plenty comfy.” 

“But they prefer mine,” Dan Heng quipped. He couldn’t help but feel happy at that knowledge. 

You laughed at the two of them, a slightly confused expression on your face. “What did I miss while I was napping?” you asked, mostly speaking to yourself. 

Dan Heng smiled, ruffling the top of your head as you swatted his hands away. “I’ll tell you later.”

[poppy-metal]

oooh what if fail marriage!art after separating with reader and being a sad miserable fuck now with tashi and patrick, sees you on a date, like on a random tuesday evening? He sees you all dolled up with this guy and you‘re smiling and giggling and tashi and patrick just feel him vibrating from anger and sadness next to them. How long has it been that he made you smile like that? How long has it been, that you wore something slutty like that for him on date night (when was the last date night ouchies)

sm came over me this au is dangerous.... cause why did i add some reader x patrick drama at the end..... failmarriage au is slowly riding closer and closer to toxic polycule but its gonna be drama drama drama till we get there !!

tashi has to put a hand on his arm to physically stop him from picking up a knife and slitting his throat - or yours - committing a murder - suicide. he thinks god is punishing him. because there's just no way, no way, the one night hes able to drag himself from bed to go out with patrick and tashi you're at very same restaurant. with another man.

and you look beautiful, like honesty his lips are parted, mouth open - because your style has always been a little on the modest side, you wore it well, sundresses and long skirts and blouses. you looked lovely in them.

but this - a skin tight body suit. black and hugging every curve on your body. he knows your body. well, he knew it. not as well as he wanted to, maybe, but he'd seen you naked - he'd been inside you countless times. but this. it feels new. it feels like hes seeing you for the first time. your tits look amazing, somehow appearing fuller with the fabric of the bodysuit clinging to you. and your ass.... he could weep, he really could. it moves like water when you walk, the smooth glide of your steps making the cheeks jiggle just the right way. strappy heels that accentuate your legs.

even patrick lets out a 'damn' and tashi would shoot him a glare except she's staring at you too. all of them just kind of gawk as you walk past them - you dont even look their way - you must have noticed art, you must have - and settle into a booth across the restaurant from them. you're smiling at your date. lips painted a dark seductive red.

art wants to go over to you. stab your date in the eyes. fall to his knees. beg for you to take him back, spare him a glance, just let him touch you. he misses the feel of you, the unique texture of your skin. the way you giggle when your ankle receives soft touches because you're ticklish. are you going to spread your legs for that man tonight? are you going to let his touched burn away arts?

he swallows. sets down his silverware. "im going out to the car." he can't watch. tashi frowns at him, like she wants to say something, encourage him to say, encourage him to talk to you, even, but he just looks at her, pleading. wordless communication that they've gotten down to a science and her lips press into a thin line, her eyes going sad. she nods and drops her hand from his arm. lets him leave.

you watch him go, taking a sip of your drink to hide your expression. the unpleasant turn of your mouth at the way he walks out, head down, fingers nervously twisting the watch on his wrist. you crunch ice between your teeth, swallow down the disappointment of his easy retreat. typical of him, to recede instead of fight.

your eyes catch on tashi's - dark and cunning, assesseing and all too aware, like shes peeling you like an orange and she knows what she'll find - you look down quickly. focus back on the date you'll inevitably ghost.

____

patrick zweig is smoking a cigarette behind the restaurant for a moment - tashi is paying the bill - art is moping in the car still, probably. its just a brief moment of reprieve from the borish melancholy cloud he'll be suffocated in the moment he gets in that car and gets engulfed in the pathetic yearning permeating from art like slick oil, and the even worse tension from tashi over her inability to fix the situation.

god, he just wants to fuck. he expected to be getting alot more ass when art moved in, if he was being honest. like a full on fuckfest. you'd come around eventually - as soon as the facade of a boring monogamous marriage lost its appeal and you realized you'd been missing the thrill you had in college when all of you, the four of you, were in eachothers orbit at all times.

but it'd just been a fucking drag. all he'd gotten was one sad moment, where he'd been throating arts cock and enjoying himself very much, before art had started crying - going on about how he missed your mouth - very mood killing. not that he'd mind if art pretended he was fucking your throat instead of patricks, because that'd be kinda hot, but the tears were a bit much. he hadn't touched art since. he didn't know if he and tashi were fooling around, but he doubted it was a common occurrence with the amount of time art spent moping.

he was on his last drag when the back door swung open and you stepped out into the humid night air. you startled to see him, like a frightened doe, and made to grab the door handle, "oh, im sorry -"

"no - stay." he blew out a cloud of smoke, right in your face - "i got something i wanted to ask you, anyway." he stubs the cig under his shoe.

your eyes dart around nervously but you lower your hand. cross your arms like its chilly. maybe your own cold heart keeps you cold, fuck if he knows.

he leans a shoulder on the brick of the building as he studies you - eyes perusing your outfit languidly. his lips twist, like he's hiding a smirk.

"this is new."

you shift on your heeled feet. look away, "you dont know enough about me to know if its new or not."

patrick straightens and steps forward, you hadn't realized his hunching posture before was doing so much to hide his height until then, when you have to crane your head to look up at him, scramble backwards so he doesn't bump your chest with his.

"see that's what pisses me off about you." he pokes you, and you jolt at the sensation of the touch "i do know you. because before you decided to become betty fucking crocker we used to be what you call 'friends'. do you know what that word means? or have you sniffed so much lysol your little brain gave you temporary amnesia."

your mouth parts in shock. you stare at him, speechless. speechless because its been years since anyone has talked to you this way, speechless because the only person who did were him and tashi, when they'd call you out, pull you out of your shell - it makes your cheeks flood with heat.

"i-" you scramble for what to say, trying to pull words, defenses out of the air. "i dont have amnesia...." fucking great line.

patrick nods. "right, okay. so-" he waves a hand in the air, his wedding band glinting in the moonlight. you want to look at it. see if it resembles the one you and art share. you didn't attend his and tashi's wedding. guilt pricks at you. "my question for you is how long do you plan on playing this game? because that's what this is. and dont -" he shakes his head with a laugh - " and dont give me that shit about art and tashi when you know damn well how they felt about eachother in college. you still married the guy. you wanna know why?" another step. you can smell him. spicy and sharp. something tashi would have bought him, no doubt. its too polished to be something he'd pick for himself.

you inhale. lashes fluttering with the memory of the over expensive boysih cologne he wore in boarding school - in college - the kind that stung your nose, but. but made you feel comforted. because it was so distinctly patrick.

"because deep down you know he loves you just as much. you've always known. and this whole act you're putting on-" he looks you up and down, "- of the scorned neglected housewife? its tired. its fucking boring. i mean-" he licks his lips, leans down so close his nose almost brushes yours. "-does art know you almost let me eat your pussy on prom night?"

you gasp, stepping away. flushing. eyes wide. "no." you gasp, voice small. "that was - you promised you'd never -"

"i promised my friend I'd never bring it up again." he looks at you, "you're not my friend, sweetheart. haven't been for awhile."

you glare at him. patrick smiles. one dimple indenting his cheek. so boyishly charming for a man in his 30s. you want to kick him.

"i hate you." you hiss. "i hate all of you."

"uh huh -" patrick shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets. starts to walk backwards. tashi will be getting impatient by now. wanting to head home to tend to a wounded arts wounds. "keep telling yourself that."

you huff. spin away from him and yank open the back door, ready to storm back inside when his voice rings out one last time behind you.

"your ass looks great, by the way!"

they'd all be jerking off to the thought of it tonight, probably. he knew he would.

[ohithankyou]

thinking about why bucktommy feel so different and why maybe so many of us have latched on to them the way we have and I can’t speak for everyone else but for me, it’s very simply - the romance of it all. one of the elements I’ve always found to be missing or lacking in buck’s previous romantic relationships was the romance. and this isn’t a dig at his past relationships, honestly the writing didn’t set them up for success. but with buck and tommy, there’s such a strong level of romance injected in their moments that it’s hard not to fall for them, fall with them.

i mean, it’s there from the beginning. there’s romance present in the way buck reacts to and remembers tommy’s mouth static. in the way he reaches out and places his hand on tommy’s shoulder after seeing bobby and athena reunite; in the way tommy reaches back. it’s present in the way buck tries and tries and tries to spend time with tommy before he even knows what his feelings are; in the way tommy comes over in person to check in on him. there’s romance present in every “evan”, every “hey”, and every “of course” that escapes tommy’s lips. there’s romance written all over their first kiss. in the way tommy says “i can teach you” and in buck’s head tilt and “okay, and will that be right after our flying lessons.”

there’s romance in tommy topping up buck’s beer and paying for their date (even though buck is the one who owes him the beer). it’s present in the way buck can’t stop thinking about tommy, and in the way they both meet each other half-way after a bump in the road. it’s in the way buck fusses over tommy’s lack-of-a costume; and in tommy’s dry, deadpan response to buck’s fuss. there’s romance in buck’s pouty-ness when he realizes tommy has to leave the party and in the way tommy shows up at the end because he promised he’d try. there’s romance present in the way buck brings tommy into the hospital room after the ceremony — like he’s the guest of honour; in the way they make their relationship known to his loved one’s; and in the way they look for each other’s reactions after ravi makes a joke at the medal ceremony buffet.

there’s romance in the way they look at each other; smitten, piercing. in the way they listen to each other; laser focused, hanging on to every word. in the way they touch each other; gentle, passionate, eager, soft. there’s romance in tommy’s “you okay”, and in the way they can read each other’s moods — when to keep going, when to stop, when to change the topic. there’s romance in the way they can go from serious and vulnerable, to flirty and horny in the span of a minute; in their comfortability with each other. there’s romance present in the way they don’t know everything about each other but are willing and wanting to try, to learn. and there’s romance in the way buck hasn’t had to talk to bobby, about tommy, like he had to about his past partners.

really, there’s so much romance in their whole story thus far, in the big moments and the little ones, and this is just the beginning. and also, the potential for more romance — a deeper, aching, fulfilling, forever-kind-of-romance — is so so so great.

[thewalkingdilf]

OKAYYY i’ve had this idea of a perv! daryl x shy, inexperienced reader that i just cannot get out of my head.

18+ mdni, poorly written smut, not proofread, perv!daryl, large age gap (reader is early 20s), loss of innocence

this is a drabble-ish. not a completely finished work, this is more of just an idea that popped into my mind that i may create a larger work for later.

your heart is absolutely racing as daryl’s darkened eyes stare you down like you’re his prey, nothing but an easy target. he’s above you on the bed, a large hand on each side of your head, holding his weight above you. you felt trapped in the best possible way. your head felt fuzzy and your pussy was aching with desire. he knew you were a virgin, innocent and as physically pure as could be. It’s not like you hadn’t wanted to do these things before, you’d just never had the opportunity to while living in your strict, religious home. besides, you hadn’t even found anyone you had taken that strong of a liking to, no one worth throwing your innocence away for; not until daryl, anyway.

there was just something about him that you were so intrigued by that you just couldn’t quite place your finger on. maybe it was his age— how much older and stronger he was than you— or maybe it was his rough, manly, and intimidating exterior. regardless, you had never had anyone make you feel like this before.

daryl, on the other hand, couldn’t help but be attracted to your innocence; you were so different from him, and in a world like this, he needed that, almost just as much as he needed to mold you into a perfect little toy for him like he had been fantasizing about since he’d met you.

“daryl,” you cry out pathetically as one of his hands come down to touch your sopping wet pussy for the first time, causing a fire to burn within your core. He felt his jeans tighten; your reaction to the slightest touch was already on the verge of being over the top. i mean, he barely touched you and you were practically drooling for him just like your aching cunt was. how in the hell were you going to handle his fingers, let alone his cock?

“sorry,” you mutter, embarrassed of your intense reaction, “i’ve just never done anything… ya’ know, like this before…” your soft voice trailed off, your big doe eyes staring up at him, “feels really good.”

daryl smirks, collecting your slick on his fingers, moving up to rub tiny circles on your puffy clit, “nothin’ at all? surely ya touch yourself, right darlin?” he questioned, pausing all movement, awaiting your response.

a deep blush covered your already hot cheeks at the admission of your already obvious innocence to the older man, “well, i mean, i tried before, but i dunno how to do it, it just felt weird. couldn’t make it feel good so i gave up.”

fuck. you were more innocent than he thought. not only are you a virgin, you’d never even came before? he was going to have so much fun with you.

“holy shit,” daryl muttered, “pretty thing like you has never felt an orgasm?”

“…no.”

his cock strained against his jeans so hard he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars for a moment. the last remaining traces of his once icy-blue orbs disappeared, deep black taking over as he gazed down at you, like a predator hunting his prey, hovering above you in a straddle, one knee between your legs, the other on the opposing side. “fuck, sunshine, you’re gon love this. promise.”

daryl’s finger returned to your clit, working itself in circles a bit faster than before, the new sensation causing you to arch your back and whine, your pussy clenching around nothing, causing a string of your arousal to drip down your plush thigh.

“ahh, fuck! fuck daryl, pleaseeee.”

“please what?” he teased, continuing his pace, watching you completely fall apart beneath him.

please what? that was a great question, you had no idea what you were begging for, you just knew that whatever he was doing was way too good for him to stop now.

a large, calloused hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet daryl’s lust-blown eyes, “i said please what? don’t ya’ wanna be a good doll and answer me so i can help ya’ out? c’mon pretty girl, just tell me whatcha need and i’ll take care’a you.”

“i-i dunno… i-” you felt embarrassed out of nowhere, like the feeling had just popped out of thin air. you cover your face with your arms, a bright pink wave creeping along your cheeks once again, spreading to the tips of your ears. you knew nothing about this, didn’t know what you wanted, what to ask for— you just knew you needed daryl to keep doing whatever it was that was making you feel so fucking good.

you felt the strength of daryl’s large arms gripping your dainty wrists, pushing them away from your face and onto the bed, holding them there with a force you knew you wouldn’t be able to escape from.

“ah, ah, ah, c’mon now, sunshine. keep those hands away from that pretty face of yers. you know i wanna see all those pretty looks my doll gives me while i make her cum ‘round my cock.”

[ffsg0jo]

𝖆𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓[𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘] - 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1

no way. there's absolutely no way you're tutoring sukuna. never in a million years, not if there was a gun to your head, not if.... gojo's willing pay?? maybe you can make arrangements, after all you're always happy to help >_<

college au - various x fem! reader

warnings: swearing, sukuna, ooc characters, mentions of pregnancy (NOT the reader)

w/c: 2500 words+ (somewhat proofread)

a/n: this chapter took so so long and i apologise for that :(( thank you to @storiesoflilies for beta reading and for the encouragement!! and thank you to everyone who left a lovely comment too. they honestly give me so much motivation and energy to write more <33

series masterlist :: general masterlist

join the taglist here to be tagged in future chapters <33

previous chapter :: next chapter

it was a beautiful and blessed day. somehow, the stars aligned, and you and shoko managed to wrap up your lectures early and go for lunch together. heaven knows you needed a break, and its light truly was shining down on you.

shoko, being a med student, had a packed timetable, and you rarely saw each other. you missed your best friend and spending your free time tutoring was taking a toll on you.

with your lunches comfortably settled into your stomachs, you both turned to your favourite pastime. gossiping.

“you know that one third year?”

“which one shoko? there’s literally hundreds?”

“the rude one, shit i’ve forgotten her name,” shoko rubs her forehead with one hand, a cigarette in the other. she puffs out smoke, manoeuvring her lips so it avoids hitting your face. “with the long brown hair? spilt her drink on you on purpose?”

“ohh you mean yorozu?” you say, finally realising who she was talking about.

you remembered that day like it was yesterday. you were sitting in the library tutoring geto when all of a sudden gojo comes waltzing in looking for him, his entourage hot on his tail.

apparently, yorozu didn’t like geto’s attention being on you (even though you were there for strictly business purposes), and ‘accidentally’ dropped her drink in your lap.

that might’ve been the only time gojo had been somewhat nice to you, grabbing a bunch of tissues from his pocket and offering you his jacket to cover up the stain.

still, it didn’t make up for the other 99 times he was a prick. and it only made yorozu hate you more.

you pause, taking a sip from your mug. “i don’t want to be mean, but she’s such a bitch.”

“she literally made fun of professors toji’s daughter who’s terminally ill, there’s a special place in hell for her,” shoko paused and took a long drag of her cigarette before continuing. “anyways apparently she’s pregnant with that one third year with the facial tattoos.”

your mouth falls open in shock, and the mug nearly falls out of your grasp.

“choso?!? choso got her pregnant?!!? there’s no way, choso would never, he’s so sweet! and if he did he’d tell me!”

“not choso you dumbass. sukuna.”

“oh,” you deadpan. “him.”

sukuna, whilst you’ve had the pleasure of never really interacting, was one of gojo’s little friends. you really didn’t want to judge people on appearances, but sukuna lived up to his expectations.

for the most part, he’d ignore you when gojo relentlessly bothered you. but sometimes you’d catch him giving you the dirtiest and most scathing looks. as if you personally replaced the feathers in his pillow with dog shit. how he and yuuji, the absolute sweetheart of a first year you tutored, were brothers was beyond you.

snorting at the look on your face, shoko brings her cigarette up to her mouth once more.

“wait sukuna?” you said somewhat confused. “i thought she was with geto?”

“they weren’t together. she was fucking both and was trying to sleep with gojo too.”

“how on earth do you know all of this?”

“gojo has a big mouth, and we have lab together.”

you hum in acknowledgement, remembering shoko complaining at the beginning of last semester, about how much of an annoyance he was.

“what about nanami?” you asked, trying to act nonchalant and disinterested. he was part of their friend group, and he could be considered attractive by a lot of people (definitely not your own words), so it was only natural to ask, you rationalise. shoko gives you a pointed look, slightly raising her eyebrow.

“she hasn’t slept with him if that’s what you’re worried about, she thinks he’s ‘too boring’.”

‘too boring my ass’ you mutter to yourself. nanami was one of the best listeners and conversationalists, you know, if not the best. and he was funny! sure, maybe his humour wasn’t for everyone, but his dry and witty remarks had you snorting ten out of ten times.

a part of you almost sighed in relief that nanami hadn’t fallen into her trap. she was beautiful and looked like a model. and whilst you were confident in your looks, you were certain you didn’t stand a chance next to her.

a sudden ping pulls you out of your thoughts. sheepishly apologising to shoko, you turn to put your phone on silent. she waves her hand at your apology and takes one last drag of her cigarette before stamping it out on the ashtray.

you quickly check the notification, eyebrows furring at the unknown number. shoko sees the look on your face and asks if everything’s okay. instead of responding, you show her the message.

‘hey it’s sukuna. need a tutor u free?’

speaking of the devil, you wonder how he got your number and why he thought to message you of all people. probably through yuuji, but he would’ve asked if you were okay with it first. you just got rid of a student, and you wanted some time to yourself. also, sukuna of all people wanted a tutor?!? he barely shows up to lectures and seminars there’s no way he’s serious about studying.

“just ignore him,” shoko said, seeing the turmoil on your face. for once, you decided to agree with her and took her advice. she’s right, you’re not obliged to tutor anyone, especially not someone like sukuna. you were trying to distance yourself from that group to avoid trouble anyway.

sighing you lock your phone, ignoring his message and turning back to shoko.

before long you’ve completely forgotten about his message, caught up in shoko’s wild escapades.

it had almost been a week since sukuna first messaged you, and you still hadn’t responded. truthfully, sukuna had forgotten about it after a day or two. but then his academic advisor scheduled a meeting for him to discuss his future at the university, and he panicked, suddenly remembering his message.

‘too nice and too scared’ to refuse him his ass. nothing but pure waffle comes out of gojo’s mouth, he doesn’t know why they’re still friends if he’s being honest.

“why the sour face?”

sukuna turns to the girl lying beside him and resists rolling his eyes. he was hoping she’d have left by now, but here she was, on his bed. her hand on his chest was slowly moving further down.

“none ya business, don’t ya have anywhere to be?” he bites back.

the girl’s eyes narrow as she stares at sukuna coldly. retracting her hand, she moves off the bed and picks her clothes up off the floor, taking her time in putting her tights on.

“scan’s next week, baby should be the size of a plum, you coming?”

“’s not mine, go ask the twelve other guys you’ve slept with.”

yorozu falters, her dress still bunched up around her midsection. she turns away from him, rushing to roll her dress down and moves to the door. a part of sukuna feels bad, he really shouldn’t be nasty, but he was adamant the child wasn’t his. even at her insistence on her being on birth control, he never once went without a condom.

once she hurried out of his room, he let out a massive sigh. god, where did it all go wrong? here he was, about to flunk out of uni, potentially be stuck paying child support for the rest of his life, and loveless.

at least his brat brother was doing well. yuuji and sukuna were like night and day, but he thanked every god out there for the way yuuji turned out. sure, he was a little stupid at times, but his brother always gave it his all and had the purest heart. the effort he put into raising yuuji really paid off.

“morning kuna,” yuuji chirped as sukuna walked into the kitchen of their shared apartment. of course, he was already up and making breakfast for the two. “i’d ask if you slept well, but i saw that girl running out of your room.”

sukuna only grunted, scratching his bare stomach in response. yuuji continues scrambling the eggs as sukuna grabs two plates from the cupboards and places them next to the stove.

“dunno why you’re still with her kuna. i support all women, don’t get me wrong, but she’s horrible! the things she’s said about gumi’s sister, i’m embarrassed to know her by association!”

“s’nothing to do with me, quit yappin.”

yuuji side eyes his older brother with a look of disgust on his face. why sukuna insists on sleeping with her is beyond him. he knows for a fact sukuna has zero feelings for the girl and is just using her.

yuuji tuts and shakes his head, plating up the eggs and moving to the dining table where they both tuck in.

“thanks for breakfast brat,” sukuna says, mouth full of food,

“no problem big bro,” yuuji beams.

the youngest itadori glances at his watch and jumps up suddenly, realising the time and leaving his breakfast half uneaten. he runs into his room and comes back out 3 seconds later with a bunch of textbooks and papers.

“(name)’s coming over for our study session, she should be here now.”

you tutored yuuji? since when? just as sukuna’s about to ask his little brother someone knocks on the door of their apartment.

you were feeling good today. with a lecture in the afternoon, you thought you’d fit in one of your students for an early study session, and who better than yuuji. he worked better in the mornings, and he was a pleasure to teach, so you were actually quite looking forward to it.

you knock on yuuji’s door and anxiously wait for him to open the door. you hear the lock turn, and the door creaks open; your face falls upon seeing who’s on the other side. the universe must hate you.

you’ve never once ran into sukuna whilst tutoring yuuji, thanking your lucky stars every day. but the one time you wanted to avoid him at all costs he’s there in all his glory.

there sukuna’s stood, topless and in his boxers, his bulky torso managing to take up the whole doorframe.

eyes naturally falling to his chest, you notice the tattoos across his body. the rings around his biceps and wrists, the delicious markings across the expanse of his torso, they complement the ones on his face so well, and you can appreciate good art when you see it.

wait, delicious? you snap out of your thoughts and meet sukuna’s gaze, who’s smirking down at you, having noticed your oogling. your face instantly morphs into a scowl.

“take a picture it’ll last longer”

“is yuuji home?” you say, choosing to ignore his words for your own sanity.

“aww you embarrassed about being caught staring?”

“it’s too early for this, if yuuji’s not home i can come back another day.” stepping back, you turn to walk away, but yuuji’s out-of-breath shriek stops you.

“kuna stop bothering her! ‘m here (name), was in a rush getting everything ready, just come in.”

you brush past sukuna, your elbow grazing his warm, bare skin. willing yourself to not think about it, you follow yuuji into the living room, where everything’s set up.

surprisingly, sukuna leaves you both alone whilst you’re tutoring yuuji, choosing to take his breakfast into his room after forcing yuuji to finish his first. sukuna was many things, but a bad brother was not one of them you realised.

a part of your heart softened seeing him take care of yuuji, glad he had that support system in his life. but the other part of you got the heebie jeebies.

still, the last thing you wanted was sukuna to confront you about his message, knowing you had ignored it. as yuuji’s session was drawing to a close, you started forming an escape plan. if you ran fast enough, you could avoid ever bumping into sukuna on the off chance he decided to confront you. and if you just grabbed your shoes and put them on outside the apartment complex you’d be even quicker!

with your plan ready and all thought out, as soon as yuuji finished his last question, you packed up, said your goodbyes, and bolted towards the door. it was like you had developed tunnel vision, blurring everything out except the door. you were so close, and so far, there was no sign of sukuna. you could do this! you could pull this off!

“leavin without saying goodbye?”

you stopped in your tracks, recognising the irritating voice coming from behind you. maybe if you just ignored him he’d go away?

you couldn’t though, you raised yourself with good enough manners, so begrudgingly, you turn around to face sukuna.

sukuna had a massive smirk on his face. he saw the way you almost ran towards the door, evidently trying to avoid bumping into him. it was actually quite comical, to be honest.

he did feel a little bad for you. you didn’t have the best experiences with him and his friends, so it was somewhat understandable. but gojo would not stop talking about how you were smart and a great tutor, and he really needed someone’s help.

sukuna would never admit it, but the textbook and the hundreds of research papers were completely inaccessible to him. he couldn’t understand the results sections to even decipher whether the results were shown to be significant or not. and why do people accept the null hypothesis? what even is the null hypothesis? and what is that funky little r he sees everywhere?

anyway, the bottom line is he really needed the help. sukuna sighed and realised he needed to come at this from a different angle.

“listen ‘m sorry about ambushing you, but i really need a tutor.”

the apology and defeat in his voice struck you off guard. maybe you were wrong about sukuna. maybe he just had a really angry resting face all those times he stared at you like you murdered his family.

“can’t you ask anyone else,” you replied

“not many people can get through yuuji’s thick skull, so you must be one helluva tutor. and gojo'll pay for your time.”

you raised your eyebrows at that, not believing satoru gojo would be willing to pay you for tutoring someone else. regardless if he truly was, you weren't going to say no to money. especially since he was known throughout the university for his trust fund.

your shoulders dropped, and you looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of what to do. he was being uncharacteristically nice about it, and you can never say no to people when they’re polite. plus the money would be good.

“fine,” you acquiesced. “i’ll do it.”

“wait seriously?”

“yes, but i can only do wednesday afternoons.”

“perfect-“

“but not this wednesday, we’ll start next week.”

“got it, next wednesday.”

sukuna was half expecting you to say no, but he’d take it. he gruffly thanked you, saying he’d message you about further details later and left you to put your shoes on in peace.

slipping them on, you mourned your no longer free wednesdays. you’d worry about lesson plans and everything later, but for now, you needed some strong coffee to get you through the rest of the day.

what had you gotten yourself into?

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[leonsrailway]

hello my love! been thinking about creepy stalker leon lately <3 maybe vendetta leon! he's damaged mentally and he can't stop himself from being fixated on you. like he corners you somewhere and dubious consent things proceed. IN PUBLIC WOULD BE HOT, but they don't get caught. for a fem! reader

ive been watching you.

AHHHHH first request ate tf up. something about vendetta leon makes me blush. i hope u like!!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW UNDER THE CUT

CW: smut 18+, p in v, fingering, oral (f! receiving), dubcon, semi-public sex, stalking, obsession, masturbation, leon being a creepy perv, age gap (reader is like 22), noncon photography, choking, size kink if u squint and tilt ur head

fem! reader

divider: @leonsdolly

hes not a weirdo. really! he never meant for it to go this far.

it was a random day last august when he wandered into the restaurant you worked at. but as soon as you came to his table and introduced yourself with that pretty little smile and those big doe eyes, he knew he'd been in trouble. after a short pause, he turned his charm on and started a conversation with you.

then he found himself back the next day. and the next.

he swore the only reason he showed up was for the coffee, which was the laziest excuse he could muster considering the coffee was from K-Cups, but you didnt seem to mind. every time you worked, you found your eyes glancing to his booth hoping to see his dark hair poking over the top of the booth in front of him. he could see the way your eyes lit up when you saw him, he just hoped you didnt notice the way his cock twitched when his eyes locked with yours.

during your small talk at his table, even after he learned you were half his age, he could only ever think about the way his large, rough hands would feel running all along your body, from your pretty tits, to your waist, to your thighs, to your- oh shit, what were you saying?

"you with me, Mr. Kennedy?" fuck, he loved when he heard his name leave your lips. "uh, yeah, sorry. long night. what were you saying?"

"did you want your regular?" you were smirking, almost mocking how distracted he was.

"yea, add something for yourself pretty lady, come sit with me on your break?"

leon had been a regular of your months. he looked to be in his late 30s-early 40s, and you'd be lying if you said his little nickname didnt make your knees a little weak.

"as much as id love to, Mr. Kennedy, i cant today. but i can definitely get that order in for you" you reluctantly deny his request.

he didnt appreciate that.

-

after a week of discreetly following you home after your shifts, he'd learned your routines. what time you shower in the evening, what time you have dinner, what time you touch yourself when everyone else falls asleep...

leon invested in some binoculars from the local nerd store and even found a little bush he could hide in perfectly angled to show him your bedroom. he even bought himself a new camera so he could take pictures of you when you look your best, oblivious.

when you had gone off to work one day, he snuck in right as you left. he's not sure what possessed him to do this, he used to be such a good guy. he wanted to protect and serve and... now look at him, rummaging in some 20 somethings underwear drawer.

-

you slam the register shut after counting your money for that night, it had been a long one. full of old men, not leon, telling you to "smile for them" or snapping at you for a refill of their sweet teas. everyone else had gone home for the night, and you were just about to lock up. your body ached, you felt like falling on the nearest flat surface and knocking out for the week.

until you heard the bell ding.

"we're close-" you were cut off by yourself when you saw who walked in, "oh, hey Mr. Kennedy."

theres his girl. "hey honey, you alright? you look tired" he approached you from behind.

"its been a long day, but nothing i can't handle. i was actually just about to lock up the restaurant... so.." you trail off, hoping he may get the hint that you just want to go home.

"well good thing i came in, huh?" he laughs, and so do you, but you didnt find it too funny. he was starting to stand a little bit too close to you for your comfort, even though you trusted him.

"i guess" you say, blushing when he gives you a look that made you almost rip off his shirt right then and there. but you cant, thats wrong, what would your parents think?

"you look pretty, angel" leon says, tilting your head up to look up at him. god, he was tall, and his one hand could cover your whole face.

"t-thank you Mr. Ke-"

"Leon. call me Leon"

"thank you, leon" you reply, crossing your arms, tensing up. you knew you shouldn't be feeling this way, it isn't professional.

he couldnt hold himself back anymore. whether it was the way your big pretty eyes looked up at him like a trap, or the way his hand was finally grazing your soft skin, something made him bold enough to kiss you.

"Le- Leon... we can't" you made out between kisses, as much as you were denying him, you were still kissing him back, that kept him going.

"we can't? that's too bad..." he mutters in your ear, breath fanning against your neck as his fingers wandered below your waistband, "because im gonna do it anyway"

you squirmed against him but you couldn't deny the way you mewled in his ear when he grazed your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. he laughed meanly in your ear before putting his free hand around your throat and gently squeezing when he applies the slightest pressure to your clothes clit, making you moan, "i knew you'd like that". he lays you down in a booth in the empty restaurant.

"p-lease... fuck" you tugged at his shirt, shyly asking for more. he laughs at the change in your charcter from only a moment ago, before ultimately complying with your silent request. he rips your clothes off and leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your neck, to your tits, to your stomach, and finally down to your pussy.

he gazes up at you with the hungriest eyes youve ever seen, glazed over and half lidded yet so focused on you. he makes out with your cunt, his nose bumping into your clit as he slips his tongue in and out of your hole, making lewd, borderline pornographic sounds. you were a wreck, writhing under him and grinding your hips into his face as he moaned incoherent praises into you, the vibrations making you soak his face more than you knew you could.

he eventually sticks two fingers into you as he sucks on your puffy, neglected clit, and once he curls his fingers to the spot that makes you jolt, he keeps on hitting that spot again and again and again until you cum in his mouth. he doesnt stop then, using his tongue to clean up your mess until you're pushing him away, a stupid cocky grin plastered on his wet lips.

you didn't realize you were taking his belt off until his cock was in front of you. he was big, leaking precum from his pretty pink tip and his eyes were piercing yours as he pumped himself a few times before lining himself with your entrance, the two of you gasping in tandem as he bottomed out inside of you.

tears pricked at your eyes as he began to move, the pain and pleasure and overstimulation from your last orgasm all combining and making a cocktail of sensations you've never experienced before. your head lolled to the side and you squeezed your eyes shut while leon rocked you into next year, until he just almost cuts off your airway and forces you to face him and look in his eyes as he drills into you like a jackhammer.

"ah-ah-ah-f-uuuck, Lee!" you moaned into his neck as you scratched pretty red lines down his back, making him grit his teeth to keep from letting out a whine he'd only heard when cumming in the panties he stole from your room

"i know pretty girl, feels good doesn't it?" he lets up on your throat, not that you could catch your breath at the rate he was plowing you. "y-yes- i'm cumming, oh my god im cumming" your eyes roll into the back of your head and you draw blood from biting your lip.

"go ahead princess, im right there with you" he grunts, slightly angling to hit you impossibly deeper, which was your final straw, you let out a string of curses and chants of his name as you cream his cock, he spills his load inside of you. not that you're that angry, his warm cum spilling out of you felt so nice you couldn't dare be angry.

the two of you catch your breath in silence until leon snaps a photo of your leaky cunt, both of your cum spilling onto your thighs.

[moonlightspencie]

initially an idea from @hotchfiles from forever ago when i asked for james fic requests, and i finally wrote it teehee

original idea: “reader’s first time that she wants to get over and just do it with a friend she trusts and he ends up confessing mid sex”

james potter x reader

warnings: smut! (p in v, first time, virgin!reader), MDNI

————————

To say you were shocked was an understatement.

You didn’t wake up this morning thinking you’d be messing around with your best friend. You definitely didn’t think he’d kiss you. Or do more.

But here you were, in his bed.

You couldn’t even blame the party or the drinks since each of you had only taken one shot each. James loved a party, but when it was at his home, he tended to lean on the conservative side until it was just his closest friends left over.

Now, you had no clue who was even still downstairs. He’d taken you upstairs an hour ago after a messy kiss. At first you thought that maybe it was for attention with his friends. But when barely anybody noticed, you dropped that theory quickly.

And it seemed like a perfect opportunity.

You still hadn’t lost your virginity, and it was something you’d been reflecting on more often lately after your 22nd birthday had come and gone. Realistically, it wasn’t a big deal. You just wanted to know what it felt like.

But you weren’t sure that your friends were entirely aware. You’d messed around with people before, but you’d never gone all the way. You didn’t want it to be some big event, and the second James started pulling your clothes off… what was the harm if he knew or not what your sexual history was?

It was going so well, too! Up until your initial feeling of being impressed by his size caught up to you.

The second he lined himself up and started pushing into you, you felt a bit nervous. The stretch wasn’t a great feeling, much to your disappointment. It wasn’t all bad, but it just felt like too much too fast. And he wasn’t slowing down. You held back any noises at first, but there came a point when you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“James, oh my g—” you moan, face feeling hot as he bottoms out. It kind of hurts.

“Feel good love?”

You’re silent for a moment, breathing heavily.

“I-I don’t know,” you shake your head as you respond.

James stops, looking at you. “What? What do you mean?”

“Kind of hurts.”

He smirks a little. “Never been with someone as big as me, love?”

You shake your head again. “Haven’t been with anyone.”

His smirk falls completely. He shakes his head, looking down at you in confusion, his chest heaving for a different reason, now.

“No—nobody?”

You swallow, realizing your mistake. You look up at him, feeling a bit panicked. He starts pulling out, and you wince at the feeling, then scramble to sit up when he sits back on his knees, his face in his hands.

“Jamie—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, looking at you. “Why… God, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please,” you say, reaching for him, holding onto one of his arms. “I just… I haven’t done anything like this before and I wanted to do it with someone who I already know and love and then… then you kissed me and it just seemed like the right time.”

“Love, I can’t be your first time.”

“Why not?” you ask, voice clearly a little desperate. “You already—”

“I already did way too much,” he cuts you off, then looks at you again, his gaze softening. “You should’ve told me.”

“You wouldn’t have gone as far as you did.”

“That’s my point.”

You sigh, scooting closer to him. You hold onto his arm, your head leaning in his shoulder.

“Just wanted it to be with someone I care about. A friend and not some… Some guy who’d never talk to me again,” you explain quietly. “Would’ve asked Sirius or Remus but…”

James shakes his head. “Why didn’t you just ask me, then? I might’ve said okay.”

“Just wanted to do it. Get it over with. I didn’t think it was a big deal,” you shrug.

“It is a big deal, baby,” he sighs, glancing at you. “It’s a really big deal.”

“I don’t want it to be.”

“Why not?”

“Cause… it’s just sex. I just want to get the first time over with. Is that wrong?”

He swallows, hugging you to him. “It’s not wrong, I just—”

“What?”

“I thought you’d want a better experience.”

You furrow your brow. “But you’re my best friend. It is a good experience.”

“Love…”

“Please, James. Can we please just keep going?”

He glanced down at you, wetting his lips on instinct as he sees you looking up at him like that. After all, he was only a man. And you… you were his beautiful best friend. Naked and pretty and begging for him to keep fucking you. He wasn’t usually weak, but he couldn’t imagine anyone being able to say no to you like this.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips with his, his hand cradling your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, melting.

“You need to tell me if it hurts this time,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I will,” you whispered back.

He nodded, hands running up your sides softly. He laid you back on the bed, settling between your legs again easily.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

“I know, James. I will.”

He let out a heavy breath, groaning with his head dropping into your neck as he pushed into you again.

“Fuck, love…” he moaned, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck and shoulder.

You breathe heavy, whimpering softly. “It feels… a lot better this time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

You clutch onto him tightly, gasping as he finally starts moving. It feels strange and unfamiliar… but so good. You moan out his name as his hips snap against yours with every thrust.

“So— so good, Jamie,” you breathe out shakily.

“You’re even better,” he mumbles, his voice laced with desperation. “You’re perfect.”

“No I’m not.”

“You are.”

You whine, your head back against the pillows. He picks up the pace, his heart pounding not only from the effort, but from the feelings overwhelming him.

“God, I love you,” he groaned.

“Love you, too, Jamie.”

He shook his head, kissing your skin delicately.

“No, I love you.”

“What?”

He picked up his head to look down at you as he kept thrusting into you. “You’re perfect, love. Geez, you’re not usually this thick. I’m— I love you.”

“What?” you repeat with wide eyes.

“Just… you know what I mean,” he says desperately, looking down at you as if he could cry.

You swallow. Suddenly his behavior makes even more sense. He didn’t want to take your virginity. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted everything to be perfect for you. He loved you.

“I love you too.”

His eyes go wide as he moans. “You do?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, dropping his head against you again in relief. “We’re doing this more often.”

“I won’t complain,” you chuckled breathlessly.

“Good. Cause this isn’t ending any time soon.”

[stxrvel]

right here

it was just one of those nights when you had to take care of Satoru since Suguru left… content. au, no sorcerers in this one. mentions of drugs and drug use, angst, curse words, maybe some kind of domestic fluff? implied smut at the end. happy ending? a/n. this is kind of like an au from this fic. not so sad and a little bold. hope you like it either way!! (right here by chase atlantic heavily inspired this)

Satoru was high, again. His dilated pupils were fixed on your body from the moment you entered his field of vision, walking among the sweaty bodies that did nothing but squeeze against each other in that discotheque. His lips had curved into a lewd smile, because you knew he knew you were coming, sooner or later, and his bright eyes roamed your body, even though you were barely wearing a pair of baggy jeans and one of his giant jackets. To beat his stupid ass and take him back home, like always.

“Satoru.” you spoke in reprimand, and his fucking friends around you barely gave you a sideways glance, some blurting out obscene words they thought you couldn't hear and others booing because you were going to take away their source of amusement. “Time to go.”

“Ah, y/n, can't you wait a little longer?” Shoko was at Satoru's right side, holding his arm as if she wasn't ready to let him go.

You only liked Shoko when she was sober, so you pay her minimal attention as you approached your white-haired friend. His smile hadn't disappeared, and it seemed like those moments were the only ones where you could glimpse a bit of real emotion in his eyes.

“Come on.” You grabbed his arm, ignoring the way Shoko wanted to cling to him and how his other friends were booing louder. Satoru's limp body slipped through your fingers, because he was damn heavy, falling against the couch again. “Please.”

His body gave way, moving with a new strength of resolve the moment that word left your mouth. His eyes, as bright as they were dangerous, were fixed on yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Will you shut the fuck up, Choso?” Satoru spat, averting his gaze for a moment to devote a deadly expression to the friend who used to boo you the most whenever you went looking for him. You and Choso used to get along well, but from a while back things had changed too much.

Even six months ago you didn't think you'd ever have to go into a nightclub at two in the fucking morning to look for your friend because he wasn't answering his fucking phone.

You dragged Satoru to your car, and even though he looked so stoned from the way you could barely make out the blue in his irises, he walked like he was sober beside you and buckled up judiciously.

“You were late today.” was the first thing he said as you pulled onto the freeway heading towards your apartment; the apartment you shared with the airhead you had for a friend.

"I was asleep. You were supposed to write me if you were here any longer.” you gave yourself a moment to turn to look at him, his gaze clouded with drugs. “What did you get into?”

“Nothing I haven't tried before, don't worry.”

“Why do you have to do this every time?” you whispered, but his perceptive self caught every word that came out of your mouth and let out a chuckle in response.

“You shouldn't worry so much, y/n.”

“I'll worry as much as I damn well please, you hear?”

Your aggressive tone of voice only caused him to laugh again. He didn't answer back, but with his head resting against the window you knew he'd fall asleep soon.

-

Satoru had become uncontrollable since Suguru left. Six months ago, the love of his life, the person he swore he would spend the rest of his life with, had given him nothing but a poor excuse to end what they had built for four years and kick it all over his face as he turned his back on him and disappeared; totally. The day Suguru walked out that door, neither you nor Satoru ever saw him again.

It was clear why you were coping better than Satoru. Suguru hadn't promised you a lifetime together or given you a promise ring. Satoru had been broken since the day he left and it had been a constant battle trying to keep him afloat. Only that nigh Suguru left, Satoru dared to be vulnerable with you and spent the whole night crying himself to sleep from exhaustion. Afterwards, he reconnected with friends he had abandoned since meeting Suguru. And with old habits, too.

You did what you could, but there was enough you could carry. Still, you didn't have the heart to leave him alone. He was the most important thing in your life and you couldn't let him fade away, even if his friends hated you; even if he hated you himself. Whatever you had to do, you would do it.

“You smell so good.” Satoru spoke in his sleep, the moment you dropped him on your bed, because he had never dared to go back into the room he shared with Suguru. He usually slept in the living room or brought the couch into your room when he felt too lonely. “Have you always smelled like this?”

His head lifted from the pillow, trying to follow the thread of the scent of your perfume wafting from your neck.

“Yes. Now hold still.”

“Is it time to undress already?”

"Yes, Satoru. And you should take a bath. You smell awful."

"What the…? Of course not."

The white-haired man stood up long enough to try to sniff his own shirt, which emitted a smell of alcohol mixed with cigarette and who knows how many other things. His nose wrinkled and for that reason alone he let you unbutton his shirt without a complaint. Usually Satoru would get too commentary when you undressed him to take a shower, but that time he kept quiet, his narrowed eyes following your movements and flinching when your fingers touched his skin.

“Are you going to fix dinner?”

You looked up at him through your lashes as you undid his black pants.

“Are you hungry?”

“I think it would help me regain consciousness.”

"In the fridge are the leftovers from dinner. I can heat them up while you bathe."

Satoru clicked his tongue, moving to sit up when you took him by the shoulders.

“We were supposed to have dinner tonight.”

Ah, in all and in the midst of his lethargic state he remembered.

“Doesn't matter.”

“I'm sorry, y/n.”

"Get up. The tub's ready."

Satoru stood up with a pout, his eyes crystallizing as he moved behind you in the direction of the bathroom. He didn't stray for a moment like he did before.

“Ah,” Satoru almost groaned as he sank fully into the water, letting his eyes close as you wet his hair a little, “this feels like glory.”

“You could feel like this more often if you didn't go out so much.”

Your friend frowned, half-opening his eyes to look at you as his hair got soaked. “Are you implying something specific?”

You didn't respond, letting silence dance between the two of you, until your friend groaned loudly.

“You know I'm slower when I'm drunk.”

“Then you should stop being drunk so often.”

“Not fair…”

“Take a bath,” you left the soap between his hands, “I'll go heat up your food.”

Walking in the direction of the exit, you still wondered why you had let things go this far. Satoru called out to you, his left hand outstretched outside the tub, as if reaching for you, trying to get to you. His bright eyes still lacked that glowing blue, but you could see a little more lucidity in them now.

“Thank you.”

-

You sat across from your friend as he dove into the dinner you had prepared. Satoru loved your food. Back when Suguru still lived here, you would prepare banquets to spend a day or the whole weekend with endless platters of food while having series or movie marathons.

Maybe you wanted to convince yourself that Suguru's departure hadn't affected you as much as it had Satoru. Maybe it had, but if you weren't the rational one in the relationship you were left in with Satoru then probably neither of you would survive.

“This tastes amazing.” Satoru complimented you, scraping the crockery to eat every last chip.

“It was more delicious freshly prepared.”

You let your chin rest on the back of your hand as Satoru looked up heavily, the blue glowing a little brighter after the shower and with some food in his stomach.

He gulped. “I'm sorry-”

“Whatever,” you didn't want to hear it; you'd lost count of the number of times he'd apologized and the number of times he'd promised you that next time it wouldn't be like this, “finish quickly to go to sleep. I can't feel my eyes anymore."

You got up before his whiny voice could reach your ears and finished organizing the kitchen by the time his plate was left in the dishwasher.

“The rest will be organized by tomorrow's sober you.”

Satoru lifted a shoulder. “It's only fair.”

In the room, silence engulfed you once again. You didn't close the door because you knew he planned to sleep there that night, but his body remained standing in front of the couch when you thought he'd already gone to bed. You changed, as usual, as you usually do while he sleeps, in front of the closet.

“Hey, do you think I can sleep with-? Wow.”

You froze. Your breath caught in your throat because you swore he'd gone to bed; it was what he did every time, you didn't even have to ask him to do it. But when you cautiously turned to look over your shoulder, he was standing in front of your bed, with a direct view of your bare back and full coverage of your legs because you were only in your underwear.

“Satoru! Turn around!”

“Ah, yes, sorry, sorry…”

His body turned reluctantly, returning the poorly disguised stare about three times until his back was completely turned to you.

You changed in record time, barely putting on one of the white shirts you had stolen from him months ago and closing the closet. When you turned around to see him, his back was still turned, playfully kicking some lint on the floor, trying to distract himself while you finished changing.

“What were you saying?”

Satoru turned suddenly, his eyes finding you with trained ease, walking in the direction of the nightstand to prepare you, once again, for sleep. His silence intrigued you, and when you turned back to see him after plugging in your phone and setting your alarms, you found him staring at your legs.

“Satoru.”

“Yes?” his large, not very innocent eyes returned to your face with embarrassing speed, and from the hardness in your gaze he cleared his throat before speaking again. "Ah. Mmm. Actually, I wanted to ask you if I could sleep with you tonight, but I don't know if it's the most appropriate thing to do right now…"

You arched an eyebrow at him, massaging your hands with a moisturizer as you settled in between your sheets.

“But you sleep here every night.”

“I mean,” Satoru shifted, pointing to the empty side of your bed and then to himself, “to literally sleep with you.”

“Ah.”

You looked at the empty side and at your friend, taking more time to respond than Satoru had considered. He thought you'd straight up tell him no and even send him to sleep in the living room, but it seemed like you genuinely considered it.

“I wouldn't mind.” you finally replied, and you missed seeing the way his shoulders relaxed as you turned to turn off the room light. “Just try not to snore too much.”

“What?” Satoru stopped halfway into the bed, and you smiled imagining his offended face; if you focused properly you could see it through the darkness. “I don't snore.”

“Uh-huh~”

Satoru finally threw himself on the bed with a grunt and you could only laugh in response.

“Go to sleep already.”

Satoru cowered on his side of the bed, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone for several months now. His tense body stayed in the position he fell into, face up, barely feeling your movements on the mattress as you found your favorite sleeping position. Your bed was small, barely fit two people, and if Satoru got any closer he could feel your breathing against his neck.

“y/n?” Satoru spoke a couple of minutes later, when he thought you had fallen asleep.

“Mmm?” you hummed in response, trying to hold back sleep until you were sure your friend had fallen asleep first. Usually that wasn't a problem, because Satoru pretty much came in asleep from the car ride, but that night he seemed to be full of surprises.

“Do you miss him?”

Your chest ached for the tiniest second, the fond memories of their nights the three of you together in that apartment raiding your mind. Maybe you had mourned Suguru's departure as much as Satoru had when he wasn't seeing you, but that was something you were going to keep to yourself alone. There was no room for forgiveness and that attempted of a man didn't deserve a single tear from both of you.

So you swallowed that pressure like a wet rag and frowned, even if your friend couldn't see you.

“Not as much as I'd like to strangle him.”

“How do you do that? How do you stay strong?”

His voice, so low, soft and vulnerable, you couldn't help but let it pierce through to your heart. You opened your eyes, and for some reason you felt his blue eyes on yours.

“I do it for you.”

You listened to his breathing, loud, choppy, the slight startled intake of breath. You moved your hands over the mattress and didn't have to go too far to find his hands and cradle them.

“You don't have to think about that,” you murmured now that you were closer, feeling his heartbeat through your grip, “you don't have to think about him.”

“I don't know what to think about anymore.” Satoru replied, his voice matching yours, almost as if he was running out of air; like his last prayer for salvation.

And you didn't know, even some time later, what had moved you that night. His closeness, his vulnerability, that you no longer knew what else to do to help him… but you moved closer to him and pressed your lips against his.

Satoru was probably moved by the same thing that moved you, because he didn't hesitate for a second to kiss you back with the same fierceness and passion, letting go of your hands and wrapping his long arms around your waist.

That night something changed between the two of you. You didn't know if you were seeking comfort in each other's arms; trying to fill a void that someone else had implanted in both of you with his departure, when he had taken a part of each of you with him when he left; maybe because you were both the only thing the other had; maybe because you knew Satoru would never do that to you; maybe because he knew you would never do that to him.

Whatever the reason, Satoru never let go of you all night, his lips swallowing every moan of yours and his hands always intertwined with yours.

Whatever the reason, Satoru had found something else, something different, something that didn't even compare to drugs… something he didn't even know he could have.

And he wasn't about to let it go this time.

[belphegorey]

⌜torture, leviathan⌟ no crime should go unpunished ships ⎯⎯ leviathan x afab!reader tropes ⎯⎯ masturbation [reader], cum, orgasms, squirting, polyamory, referenced unprotected sex, pact marks, perv levi ofc

First deep breath. Second. Third. Leviathan couldn’t stop his stare at the tub he called bed. Collected pillows, blankets and plushies that should be void of body warmth; all sat beneath your naked body. His cheeks were pink, scratching at the back of his neck he was frozen. A sly grin blessed him as you lifted a leg, resting your foot on the side of the tub. Glistening wet. Leviathan gulped and avoided eye contact. 

Fourth deep breath. You wanted to giggle at how he reacted. Sweet Leviathan, your shy pervert. Did he think he could just steal your underwear and get away with it? You slid your middle finger down your cunt, shivering in delight. He tried not to look at you. You could still see the orange light burning through his fingers. With two fingers, you spread your lips to let him observe more. Slick cum fell down your skin and gathered on the blanket beneath you. You were sure it wasn’t the first time cum slipped onto it. 

What was that? Leviathan did his best to hide from your naked body. He held hands to his face and everything! But, the glimpse of white cream slipping out of your pussy made him pause. It wasn’t… it couldn’t be! You wouldn’t do that! 

But you did. He could smell Mammon all over you. 

Fifth deep breath. “You don’t mind me being in here tonight, right? My room’s out of commission since Belphie and Satan thought it was the best hiding place for a troll.” You smiled and slipped a finger into your hole. Leftover cum made you squelch. Leviathan’s eye twitched behind his hands, you felt euphoric as the bulge of his tail lifted from his pants. “Sorry, I don’t have my clothes on. I just couldn’t find any of my underwear and then Asmo stole my pyjamas. Beel gave me his shirt to wear tonight so don’t worry!”

No. No. No no no. No no no no no no no no. Leviathan panted when you moaned over your thrusting finger. He abandoned trying to not watch. He couldn’t help it! You spoke absolute torture and your body whispered more. Beel’sshirt. Mammon’s cum. Why couldn’t you ask him? 

Levi would have done his absolute best to make you cum for him! He was the one who got all the best endings in his hentai games. He was the one you spoke with every night! He could have given you clothing to wear! He would give you everything in his wardrobe! What did they have to get to you first? Levi wanted you more. He craved you. 

His jealousy and frustration morphed into a soft whimper. You cooed at him and slipped another finger inside of you, scissoring them. Your other hand went to your mouth, thumb tugging on your lips. His blush only grew darker, but at least you properly had his attention. “Sorry about this, by the way,” you let your hand fall to your breast, pinching your nipple with a broken moan of bliss, “Mammon and I had a little fun together and I just think this is the best way to get all his cum out. You don’t mind, right?”

Sixth. Seventh. Eighth deep breath. You exaggerated your moan when he began to stammer in response. The tail you loved wrapped down his thigh tightly, the tip swaying in an attempt to touch you. Had it been another day, you would have eagerly let it. No! You reminded yourself it was a punishment for his thievery.

“I always find it easy to do,” you sighed and lifted your other leg to the lip of the tub. More slick spilled down your ass and onto the blanket, “I just need to think of Lucifer. Sometimes I just imagine getting on my knees for him while he is doing some paperwork at his desk. It’s so hot… maybe he would pull on my hair and make me take all of him,” you dramatically moaned again, bucking your hips into the air. Leviathan looked like a mess, his left eye twitched and his hands squeezed the top of his tail. 

He couldn’t help but picture it. Why did it have to be Lucifer? Levi was always at his desk, there was enough room for you! Yes, he could practically feel your tongue circling his tip and making him moan. He could pull on your hair too! Harder than Lucifer would!

Okay — maybe not harder but he would do it with a lot more enthusiasm! 

His lip wobbled beneath his teeth, you were writhing in his tub. Your body curled and your smile made way for blissful moans. Mammon’s cum kept slipping between your fingers and gathering on your knuckles. Did you even care? Did you like it?

Leviathan knew you did, it made him scream internally. Stupid Mammon. Stupid Beel. Stupid Lucifer. He wanted you most, not them! His mind wandered down a dark path: did you touch them? Did your soft hands scratch down Mammon’s back while he fucked you? Did your sweet lips mutter praise and ‘thank you’s’ to Beel when he gave you a shirt? Did — he nearly cried at the thought — did Lucifer think of you in the same ways?

Ninth deep breath. You were so close, and yet Leviathan hadn’t cracked? He kept staring at you, drool gathering in the corner of his lips. You were desperate to have him cry for your touch, his tail to slip between your folds and replace your fingers. Levi hadn’t even said a word! You knew the plan was working, but you still craved more of a reaction. You internally reminded yourself again that it was intentional torture. 

Your thighs shook and you whimpered into the room. Levi copied the noise as he tugged on his tail. You couldn’t stop staring at him. He was so cute like this. Desperate, needy — so perfect. You didn’t think you would enjoy torturing him as much as you have. You would need to do it again and again. Maybe you could plant the stolen panties next time. 

The finishing touches were in place. You curled your fingers and came with a cry; “Lucifer!” Even behind closed eyes, you knew that Levi was an envious spectacle. He didn’t need to know that all you were thinking of was grinding down on his cock until he came in his pants like a good boy. 

You squirted with a soft moan, body trembling from the sensations. It sprayed on his blanket along with the rest of Mammon’s cum. You revelled in how he watched you. Cum dropped on your hand and fingers, you were quick to stare him in the eyes and lick them clean. 

Leviathan was dead. That was what it had to be. He had ascended to heaven. Your eyes, pink from lust, bore in his own and your tongue dipped out to collect cut from your fingers. It pooled on the curve of your tongue, you swallowed it with an innocent smile. “Sorry,” you giggled, “I’ll wash the blankets in the morning for you.”

Tenth deep breath and the final nail in his coffin was aligned. “My darling human,” Asmo sang the words as he sauntered into Levi’s bedroom. He did well at ignoring your naked body and the bulge in Levi’s pants, as you had told him to do. Who better to help you torture someone? “I got some friends to fix your room up already! They even added in some alterations I requested! Let me show you!” 

His hand helped pull you from the tub and you smiled at him gratefully. It was good Leviathan was too lost in his mind to comment on the horrid acting between you both. Asmo’s own excitement regarding the lustful situation ruined his usual talent for theatrics. Yours was far worse if you were honest. 

“You did that for little ole me? Thank you, baby,” the deepest of kisses between you and Asmo hammered that nail in place. You could feel the burning of envy from his pact mark on your skin. “How about we go and I thank you properly?” You both walked out of the room, you could see your pyjamas folded in the hallway ready for you to wear. Asmo left first, you stopped in the doorway to tease your demon one more time. 

“You —” he started to speak.

Quickly you giggled, playfully swatting away at the hands on your waist. “Thanks anyways, Levi, but I think I’ll stay with Asmo tonight.”

© belphegorey 2024 ⌜18+ banner from @/cafekitsune thank you <3⌟

notes ⎯⎯ i have not slept but this was an idea that i liked hehe, perv levi for the win. lemme know if you want a part 2 cause i have an idea about levi getting some revenge… 👀

[xazse]

Imagine sugar baby! Dombot AFAB toji x Sugar daddy Subtop m reader?? Like omg.

And instead of us being the older one it's toji 😭😭 reversed asf, like we do anything toji asks us to do because we actually secretly love him and toji thinks you're just after his pussy because of how much Reader seems to be flustered around him too much all the time, but he didn't even know m reader is HUNG ASF and doesn't have sex too much so he's not really used to fucking, but w toji? My god there's no rest. Toji would be ridin and milkin that dick and his own pussy till dawn OF THE NEXT DAY.

And reader? Oh he'd let him do anything, mf he's too pussy hungry for this too, like he'd do anything toji asks as long as he gets a taste of that pussy 😭😭

A Taste

Pairings: SugarBaby!DombotAfab!Toji x SugarDaddy!Subtop!M!reader

Warnings: Creampie + Afab!Toji + Male!reader + overstimulation + not!proofread + nasty smut + begging + lots of fluids + eating out

Notes: HIII OMG I LOVED UR PROMT SO GOOD AND YUMMY I HOPE THIS IS TO UR LIKING <333 + I may have gotten the sugar daddy part wrong

Toji thinks of you as a little puppy, a very forgiving one too. You practically follow him everywhere not that he minds, you give him money and even a place to stay he can’t complain. Though there are some downsides, everytime Toji offers to pay you back for what you’ve done you’re so quick to shoot it down and tell him to keep his money? Who does that?

He isn’t one to beg you to take it so he pockets it for later. And again when Toji asks if you want to settle down and watch a good movie with him you do say yes. The entire time he notices how you’ll glance in his direction every so often, at his face and even at his chest. This all has to connect to something, you not taking money from him, not wanting anything material wise so what exactly do you want?

He starts to put the puzzles together and comes to the answer that you most likely want sex from him, it all starts to make sense. Toji has had his fair share of sexual encounters but only by older perverted men, never someone as young as you are. What if he’s wrong though? What if he just ends up embarrassing himself and making you uncomfortable? He can’t have that who else is gonna buy him all the sweats and tight shirts he keeps handy? Not those old selfish fucks.

Toji starts slow as to not scare or send you into overdrive, you are a quiet man who keeps to himself but you do have nervous habits he’s picked up on. He also knows you aren’t that sexually active: he’s asked before if you’d want to hit up a club and maybe get a lay tonight but you politely declined and kept away with tapping at your laptop.

The subtle touches start, he’s gracing his fingertips along your back as he passes by you, touching your hand when he hands you something, Toji had even gone a giant step and asked you one day if you wanted a bite of this new snack he’d bought, you accepted but instead of him handing you it, he held it out and fed it to you, the whole time you were staring right into his eyes with a burning flame: oh?

Toji stares at you relaxed, laying down on the couch staring at the tv. You’re faced with your body upwards and your head turned: he decides this is the final moment in his plan. When he places his ass right on top of your cock you’re quick to startle thinking he’s made some type of mistake, a laugh leaves his lips, people don’t usually just sit ontop of someone for no reason? Toji wants you and very badly at that, he wants to repay you for all your kindness and respect.

Flustered and confused you quickly tell him that it’s okay and he doesn’t need to resort to such methods, it falls deaf on ears as he starts grinding against your cock, it’s not long before you’re fully hard dick is pressing against his pussy. Embarrassed that’s exactly what you feel, getting hard so quickly is pathetic.

Toji is ultimately flattered, a handsome man such as yourself getting hard for someone so much older makes his cunt throb. He pulls your pants along with your underwear: freeing your cock. The grin is wiped off his face when he sees just how fucking big you are, you’re thick and long, that’s a deadly fucking combo, he almost wants to back out.

You see his expression and concern fills your own face, is something wrong with you? Are you not to his liking? All sorts of bad things start to fill your head. Toji starts stripping himself of his own bottoms to reveal his dripping pussy, he rests it against your cock, all your worries disappear when all you can do is stare at the size difference between your parts. That’s why.

Your bare cock rests inbetween his lips, his clit is throbbing for some type of stimulation and your cock is begging for the same. You grab his hips boldly and start moving him, his sloppy cunt wets you with every long drag of his body. You both groan lowly. Toji hasn’t had foreplay with those other men, nor have they paid his clit any attention: but you make sure to give it plenty of attention, every so often you’ll use your fingers and rub the wet button, even dipping your fingers to taste him.

Toji has had enough of the foreplay and wants you inside him badly, he lifts his hips and you get the memo to line up your weeping tip with his greedy hole, it feels like he’s sucking you in when he slides down, Toji has to stop for a few to really adjust to you, it’s both frustrating and making him extra horny. When he finally bottoms out he feels so fucking full and he has to really focus on his breathing. Never has his pussy been stretched like this, he fills something warm inside of him and he stares directly at you.

You can’t even look at his face, hiding behind your arms lifted over your head, you really came inside of him and so fucking early, your cum starts to leak a little bit out of him further embarrassing and degrading you, but fuck did it feel so good, he feels good. Toji thinks you’ll go soft but you haven’t, not even a little. Trying to redeem yourself you begin moving his very slowly up and down.

Toji bites his lips as he lets you guide him through the process, you’re looking at him again: with such a warm love stricken face.

Oh god Toji can’t think, your cock is hitting his sweet spot directly over and over, damn the advantages to having a huge dick. He’s on his own as he bounces up and down again and again. You’re doing your part perfectly: meeting him halfway, pounding in him. He’s whining, the Toji fushiguro is whining for more of your cock.

Where you meet is obscenely gross and soaked with your juices mixed together, it’s sticky and sticks to Toji’s pussy everytime he moves up. He’s never produced and came this much from one single session. He doesn’t regret the weeks leading up to this at all, all he can think about is you pushing him over the edge and doing it all over again.

He begins to tire a little and you take over fully, lightly pushing him off of you, the wet sound of your cock slipping out of his pussy sounds so delicious, he thinks you’re going to stop and leave him wanting more but you don’t: you place your hands underneath his knees and push them towards his chest, it hurts, he isn’t flexible but he isn’t going to disobey when you want to give him more.

You push him into a mating press, and slide right back in. This position is more compromising and you get a full view of his face below you, dried tears and drool is present, his eyes are a little red from the overstimulation but he isn’t telling you to stop. You start fucking into him when you get your fill of his face, cock rubbing against his sensitive walls still has him clenching extremely tight around you, a few more strokes and he’s cumming around you with a lewd girly moan.

You do follow after but you just don’t stop, you might not ever get an opportunity like this so you’ll take full advantage of it, even if it comes at the cost of you being selfish.

It’s a wet sloppy mess by the end of it, you think it’s the end because Toji looks so fucked out, but your cock is still hard and throbbing, wanting to fuck him even more. You ask practically beg him for one more and then you’ll be done, he nods lightly allowing you to slip your soaked cock back into his warm embrace.

When toji finally tells you in a meek voice that he’s finished you’re distraught, you want more of him so much more, but when toji gives you the privilege of “cleaning him up” you fucking leap at the opportunity, using your tongue you slide back and forth inbetween his messy folds, lapping up all his cum and your cum. You sneakily even suck on his clit sometimes.

[cottonlemonade]

Help Wanted

word count: 656 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tendou x chubby!Reader

genre: smut

warnings: mdni, nsfw

____________________________________________

Tendou would have liked to say that he was a gentleman. But when you showed up in his dorm room and announced that you were sick and tired of being labeled the campus virgin and begged your best friend to just have sex with you, Tendou didn’t actually hesitate for more than three seconds before shrugging and saying, “Alright.”, making room for you on his bed.

His roommate blinked at the two of you before packing up his laptop and mumbling something about “going to study at the library then”.

He knew he should have maybe talked you out of it but his mind was too busy screaming at the opportunity. He figured, he’d casually invite you for coffee afterwards in the cafeteria or maybe order a pizza and then confess to you over some melty cheese that he’s been in love with you since that time you used red hair spray to dye your hair, just so you could raise your hand for him at roll call while he was busy finishing up a paper in the library at the last minute. You had worn one of his hoodies (a new one he bought several sizes too big just so he could lend it to you without you commenting that his stuff wouldn’t fit you) and his roommate had walked in on him sniffing the collar with deep deep breaths.

And now he lay between your plush thighs, heart pounding, licking his lips in anticipation as he peeled your panties aside. You’re still wearing a shirt which he found unfortunate but there was no rush.

Before he began, he stressed how important it was to ease into it. He didn’t want to hurt you, of course, so he thought, good long foreplay and maybe making you cum first would be a good idea.

He leaned in and set a couple soft kisses on your soft pussy. You gasped and tried to close your legs with him still at work. He looked up at you, asking if you want to stop. Wordlessly, you just opened your legs again and he grinned, swiping his tongue through the folds.

“You taste sweet…”, he commented and you hid your face under your arms but moaned when he used his fingers to expose your clit.

Wanting to make it a more interactive learning experience he brought his right index to your lips, “Can you wet that for me?”

You hesitate for a moment, peaking out from under your chubby arms and then because you really needed to him to continue, sucked it into your mouth.

“Mmmh, I can only imagine what those lips would do to a cock. But we can do that next time.”

Bringing his slick finger down to him, he began ghosting it over your clit. The noises falling from your lips had him throb in his boxers. Tendou increased the pressure ever so slightly, pushing the little pink button to the left and right, watching happily now wet you already became. He slurped loudly, enjoying every drop of you like the first iced tea of the summer.

“I’m gonna put a finger into you now.”, he announced and your expression, already so deliciously dazed, changed to new excitement. You gave a small nod and he slowly pushed into you, stroking your gummy walls.

“You’re so cute… I’m gonna put a second finger in, okay?”

You nod again. This time, he decided to tease a bit.

“You gotta talk to me, gorgeous.”

“Yes, please put a second finger in.”, you replied breathily and moaned loudly when he started to move them in and out.

“Now, I wonder what would happen if I’d suck your little clit now, too. - What do you think would happen?”

“I’d…. You’d make me cum.”, you said quietly, a definite whine in your voice.

“That sounds like fun. Let’s do that, hm? Let’s make you cream on my fingers.”

____________________________________________

[ninthcircleofprythian]

GOLD STAR FOR YOU

Acotar Crack Headcanons

In which Reader introduces gold star stickers in the bedroom. Reader x everybody. Poly type deal. And it is most definitely a competition. There are sticker charts. Gold prize - for the male with the most stickers? A week alone with reader. No interruptions. No sharing.

(This crack list is brought you especially by the shared brain rot with @chairofchaos . Please enjoy our devolution into smut headcanons that tonight has brought us.)

Azriel:

Confused at first

When he realizes he’d be SO into the competition element

So competitive

“How many does this get me” as he’s just pounding

“And this?”

It devolves because you stop being able to give him stickers

“What about this, baby? What if you can’t walk tomorrow? How many stickers do I get then?”

You can’t do a damn thing about it as the sticker sheets fall from your hand

But when you’re done

The two of you curled up together

You take the whole sheet and start giving him stickers, one by one

He’s smirking as you line them up in rows along his chest and arms

Then you finally put one on his nose, grinning as you recall the feeling of his head between your legs

“It was that good, huh? Maybe we’d better try to one up ourselves. See how many stickers I earn from you then.”

Helion:

Catches on quickly

He goes out that day to buy his own sticker sheets

Likes to give them to you too

Gives himself gold stars for how often he can make you moan

“Yep… that’s another one FOR ME”

Gives zero fucks about the overall competition

He just likes being in competition with himself

Puts the stickers on his nipples like pasties with a shit eating grin

Eris:

You reach back to place a sticker on his thigh

He stills immediately

When you explain it, he’s so hurt about being interrupted

“What the fuck? What is this childish game?”

“Do not place your shiny sticker on me, woman.”

“I am doing sexy things here – leave me be”

He peels it off his thigh, sticks it on the small of your back and keeps going

He still kisses the star when he’s done

“So the stickers are a no?”

He’d sigh and kiss your forehead

“Just tell me first next time. I don’t like surprises.”

Cassian:

Has monkey brain - is super into it

“STICKERS? SAY LESS”

Adds his own prizes to the mix

Is competitive but really just cares about making you feel GOOD

The stickers and prizes are just a bonus.

Walks around shirtless just to show off his stickers

“These are my rewards! Don't you like them?”

He has a sticker chart on the back of the bathroom door where he collects his stickers at the end of each day.

Eventually he just starts sticking them to random things around the house - mirrors, his daggers, the kitchen cabinets.

Lucien:

You give him a sticker on the forehead during oral

his little mechanical eye like gleams at you as he SMIRKS

he’s like 'hmm what's this?"

He takes one off the sheet and does his little smirk and the star just GLOWS

he sticks it on you down there

because he LOVES TO EAT

gives a little predatory grin as he crawls over you to move to the next thing

Tamlin:

Gets distracted by you placing the sticker on his shoulder

Pauses mid thrust

“No no dont stop”

“What… what is that?”

“It’s a sticker. You’re doing a good job. Keep going”

“... what?”

He’s so confused

He doesn’t keep moving

You take the sticker back - “You stopped moving. You stop. You lose the sticker.”

He does NOT like the stickers

“Please put them away.”

He’s very butthurt over losing his only sticker

Immediately flaccid

Rhys:

Isn’t a part of the competition

That male is interested in Feyre and Feyre ONLY

Hears about the competition from Azriel

Immediately goes to Feyre

“We need to buy gold star stickers.”

“Why?”

“Trust me, Darling. Gold. Stickers.”

Your next visit to the river house becomes an adventure of finding all the places where the two of them left stickers while Rhys grins and Feyre rolls her eyes with a laugh

Your favorite find is under the tablecloth, where it’s next to a golden paint smear

“We recreated our mating night for the anniversary,” Rhys whispers to Cassian conspiratorially

He’s intentionally loud enough for all of you to hear

He doesn’t really understand the rules 

He just likes the idea of putting the stickers everywhere him and Feyre fucked so he can show off.

[murdrdocs]

spinnin' out waiting

description. you find TASHI DONALDSON at a hotel bar. you fall back into a version of your old self, a version that values tashi's opinion as much as you value the taste of her lips.

includes. SMUT 18+ MDNI, infidelity, 69ing, exes (again!), crazy amounts of longing, one mention of pegging, couple mentions of patrick and art, unnamed husband to r

wc. 4.2k+

a/n: art creds unknown. title from satellite by harry styles. barely edited as of 06/10

“Why'd you marry him?”

Tashi's words are soft, they’re inquisitive. They don’t seem accusatory, blending easily with the melody of the Bowie tune playing throughout the hotel lobby.

You hear her. You understand her over the clatter of glasses against table tops and shoes clicking against tile floors. You know exactly what she’s asking you. You have an answer, but beginning to act on the defense, you take your time formulating another one.

Here, at a hotel bar, you won't tell Tashi the real reason why you married your husband. You won't lay it all out for her to take, chew up, and spit right back at you.

You take a sip of your drink, ignoring how unfavored it is now that it's watered down, and you only speak once it's sitting back on the counter.

“Why did you?”

It's lame, nothing but a cop-out, but verbally, you aren't trying to impress Tashi right now. Right now, you're taking what you can, pathetically just trying to exist in her space for longer even if it means deflecting her words onto her. 

Physically, you’re trying to draw her in, attempting to impress her. It’s obvious in the way you’re sitting—shoulders pushed far back until there’s a pinch between your shoulder blades, your legs crossed at the ankles and your thighs squeezed together. You’re the picture of perfection, even holding your face in a way that you think Tashi will admire. 

Tashi takes the bait.

She shrugs, sighs, and dives into a calculated answer. “He's smart. Good at tennis.”

You think she means the words, or she had meant them at one time, but now they’re emotionless. They’re facts, not declarations of love. Her face doesn’t brighten like it should when talking about why you married your husband. 

You nod your head, rocking a little in your seat on the stool. Tashi has always been strategic, you aren't shocked that she doesn't mention her love for her husband in her admission.

She looks at you, eyes briefly taking down your body in a gesture so quick that you aren’t sure if it was intentional or not. You watch her lips part. 

“You were too.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “I was what?”

“Good at tennis.” Again, she says it so simply, so clear cut. To most, it would be. To most, it would be nothing but a fact, a compliment, even. 

With Tashi, it's something different. There is an admission in itself woven in her words. One you’ve waited to hear for years, one you only heard once before years ago. If you were weaker, still playing for her attention, maybe, then you would’ve let the admission draw you back to your coach who declared there would always be a place for you. Now, you only dip your head, watching your fingernail tap against your glass. 

“I'm out, Tashi. I'm done.”

The back and forth comes quickly. “You didn't have to be. You quit.”

“I retired.”

“You quit.”

You didn't expect the conversation to go this way, but you should have. You know Tashi. You may even know her better than you know your own husband. Perhaps she knows you better than your husband does. It's a thought you don't want to consider for longer than you need to.

You take your glass in your hand and finish your drink off. You don't bother ordering another. You won't be here for much longer. 

You don't know how the exit will be, if you'll be alone, or if Tashi will be in tow. But you can sense its approach.

“Why did you marry him?" She asks you again.

This time, you give an answer. It comes quick and simple. "Safety." What you don’t say is because I couldn’t marry you. 

You watch Tashi react. The corner of her lips lifts just a bit and she gets that look in her eye. The one that tells you that she has just found something out, a piece to add to the puzzle that makes up you.

She hums and you know she wants to say something. You want to hear it, but the words are likely to piss you off. They would ruin the small sense of harmony that exists in this space, and that's something you don't want.

So you let Tashi judge you. You sit there under her scrutinizing gaze and then when she's done, you watch her gaze soften.

“You had a few more in you."

It's tennis talk, but it's comforting.

“I watched your matches, you could've done a few more. A couple more years maybe. Wimbledon was always your strong suit I think you could've won it next year. Maybe Australia, too. France is a little rough on you, you move slower. But if yo—” You can't stand to hear it any longer.

You push your chair out from under you, standing over her. And for once, Tashi stops speaking. She's stunned, her dark eyes staring up at yours. Her lips stay parted, her unfinished words sitting stunted inside of her mouth. Her lips look so nice, and you try not to focus on that, but it seems like it's all you can focus on through the blurry sight. 

Your eyes burn, your nose stings. You're about to cry, and for what? Because Tashi is telling you that you're better than you thought? Truthfully, it's words you've been hearing for a while. Everyone has told you as such. But hearing it from her is different. It's like the words from God himself.

It should be embarrassing, how joyous you feel to have her attention on you once more. How delighted you are that Tashi Duncan—Tashi Donaldson is finally giving you the time of day again. It should be embarrassing, and maybe it would be if you weren’t so intently focused on keeping your tears at bay.

Nearly a decade and a half later, you’re still worshiping at her altar.

Patrick all those years ago was right. You’re no better than Art. You don’t think you wanted to be.

You stand with intentions to leave. Grab your bag, you tell yourself. Go upstairs to your room and to your husband.

But Tashi is looking at you. She's looking at you with kindness beneath her lined eyes. On the surface, it's unnoticeable. Maybe it's not there at all and you're just deluding yourself. But you think that under there, buried down beneath everything she uses to keep herself strong and above everyone else, is kindness. Towards you. Towards the situation. Towards herself.

“St back down,” she tells you.

You stay standing.

Tashi's hand reaches for yours. Her left hand crosses her body, resting on your left hand. You glance down, noticing the way your respective rings glint in the moody lighting. When you blink, a tear falls. You try to wipe it away before Tashi can notice it.

"Sit back down," She speaks slowly this time and it seems like a plea. So you sit back down.

Your pants are touching the cushion of the bar stool for only a few seconds before Tashi leans forward. There isn't necessarily hesitance towards her movements, but she moves slowly. It's as if she's giving you an out.

But there's no way you could want an out for the thing you've wanted for years. Finally, she's giving you an in, even if the circumstances existing outside of this bubble make the situation inappropriate.

But when you close the gap, you don't feel guilty. Because you had her first. Before any of the boys came into your lives, it was you and Tashi. 

And here, and now, it’s you and Tashi. Art, Patrick, and your husband don’t exist at this moment past the rings on your fingers and lingering chastising. Physically, in this space, it’s you and Tashi.

Her hand falls to your thigh. Your hand slides up to the side of her neck. 

She scoots her stool closer to yours and your back arches as you push yourself closer into her. A blast of AC brings her perfume to your awareness. She smells the same as before, a gentle vanilla, but there’s a new maturity to it. The scent is stronger, without being overpowering. It’s aged, with a deeper heat to it. 

It’s alluring.

When you pull away from her, you’re shocked to feel her lips chase yours. She kisses you, once, twice, and then she’s only stopped by your hands cupping her cheeks. 

You stare at Tashi. She stares at you, big brown eyes lined with smudged makeup. She should look intimidating, like how she appears in the stands. But she looks innocent, almost. 

“Tashi.” 

Her eyebrows furrow. It’s nice to see worry on her face when it’s directed at you. You like it when she cares about you. 

“What? What is it?” 

“Tashi, we shouldn’t.” 

Her eyebrows relax and her face morphs into something else. Disappointment? It’s a look that makes your throat sting. 

You’re close to taking your warning back, but you instead let it suspend in the air. You lick your lips, your grip on Tashi’s cheeks relaxing as you prepare to retreat. Your purse sits on the counter, and in it is your keycard to your hotel room. It would be easy to grab your things and slip back into your room for a quick shower before sliding into bed. But that’s not what you want. 

You want to see where this goes. 

If she’ll let you. 

You expect Tashi’s body to relax away from you, but it doesn’t. 

She stands, her hands resting on your thighs as she stares down at you. 

“Why shouldn’t we?” 

You have answers, many of them. Two of them sit just a few floors above you both, waiting for either of you to crawl back into bed and resume the role of the loving, supportive wife. 

You could give her reasons, but you don’t. Instead, you lamely stare up at Tashi, your best friend. 

It’s a title she hasn’t been the owner of for years, but you still find it easy to give it to her now. You’ll extend it for her to forever hold, an honor she doesn’t have to want for you to bestow upon her. 

You’ll let Tashi Donaldson be whatever she wants to be, so long as she’s in your life. 

Maybe that’s why you don’t resist at all when she leans down and presses her lips to yours. 

You kiss her with vigor you’ve never kissed your husband with. Vigor that could have never existed with him, because you’ve been burying it deep down inside just for her. It’s a build-up of all the times you cheered her on for a date. All the times you listened to her tell you about her endeavors and pushed down the images of you two in the described positions. The tears you hid with steamy showers and bottles of wine when you heard about her wedding from the tabloids and not an invitation. 

It all comes together as slides of your lips against hers. Full-forced presses of your tongues together. Wandering hands roaming through expensive hairdos and along even more expensive clothing items. 

You’re in public, sitting at a hotel bar, but you couldn’t care less. Even if it weren’t late at night, if the lobby were bustling with late check-outs and early check-ins, you don’t think you would care. Absolutely nothing could pull you from Tashi’s embrace. You convince yourself this when you stand to your full height, pressing your chest against Tashi’s. 

She turns you until your lower back digs into the edge of the counter. One of her hands cups your face and you can feel the bracelet on her wrist dig into your arm as she rests the other on the counter behind you. You hold her close with two hands on her slender waist, pressing into the thick fabric of her cardigan. 

You need to feel more of her. Her clothing is in the way. You need to feel her skin on yours in ways you had almost been privy to in college when tailored pants and overpriced sweaters were replaced by Victoria’s Secret pajama sets and Stanford sweatshirts. 

You do what you can in this public space, lifting the hem of her cardigan and pressing your hands into her torso beneath it. She’s wearing a shirt, but it’s cropped just enough for you to feel her taut abdomen. She’s soft, just like you expected her to be. 

You melt against her when you circle your hands around her back and feel even more of her skin. 

Eventually, Tashi pulls away. She doesn’t go far, pecking your neck and clavicle even as she struggles to catch her breath. You’re about to ask her where. You can’t let Tashi fuck you in a hotel bar, even if you would’ve let it happen if it weren’t so morally wrong, and you’re about to ask her where she could fuck you. 

The words are formed on your tongue, sitting right on the tip, waiting. And then the elevator dings. You don’t care immediately. You forget yourself. You forget that you’re in public, pressed against a hotel bar with onlookers just a few feet away. They might not be looking at you, but you’ve had an audience this entire time. You could have another member joining the audience, too, if that elevator ding is who you think it is. 

You forgot that you’re married, and not to her. 

But the sound of the elevator, followed by an excited squeal of his name and then your name, the one he gave you, quickly reminds you. 

You pull yourself off of Tashi completely. The only way to do that is to shove her away from you and even though you try to do it as gently as possible, it still hurts both of you. But it does the job. Tashi stands in front of you instead of against you. 

You try your best to collect yourself. Wiping over and around your mouth, fixing your top, righting the position of your ring on your finger, and doing the same for your necklaces. You clear your throat, awkwardly step around Tashi, and then you look at her. 

You look at her, really look at her in case you won’t get the chance to again, and then you turn yourselves around, grab your purse, and just look at her. 

You wait for him to come this way. You wait for the sound of his shoes against the laminate, the strong waft of his cologne, the deep rumble of his voice. You wait for him to pull you into his chest, press a kiss into your forehead, and sincerely tell you that he was looking for you. That he woke up to an empty bed and was worried sick. You wait for the guilt to settle in your gut like a rock. You wait for this energy to be disrupted for good.

When it doesn’t come, you don’t know what to do. 

Tashi cocks her head, crosses her arms over her chest. 

You can sense her wanting to ask you a question so you press your shoulders back and prepare yourself. 

“Are you gonna go with him?” 

You don’t answer. You lick your lips, flit through the array of bottles against the wall behind her, and listen for the sound of fans talking to your husband. 

Tashi only continues. “He’ll only be distracted for so long before he comes looking for you, right? So, are you gonna go with him, or are you coming with me?” 

You try to sit and consider it, juggling the thoughts in your head, but it’s nothing but a waste of time. Your decision has been made ever since she kissed you. It’s what you really want. But it’s what you cannot have. 

So instead, you grab your purse, spare Tashi one final look, and walk away from her. 

“What happened downstairs?”

You’re in the middle of brushing your teeth when he asks you. The action gives you time to consider. Consider the implications of his question. Consider the repercussions of the answer you’ll give him. 

You’re done when you spit the first time, but you go back for another round of brushing to give yourself more time. 

Your actions don’t deter your husband. He stands in the center of the entrance to the bathroom, blocking the exit with his hands in the pockets of his pants. You’d bought them for him for Christmas two years ago. 

Eventually realizing you’re not escaping this, you spit, rinse, and wipe before turning to face your husband. 

“Nothing happened.” 

It’s true to you. You were in Tashi’s embrace last night, but nothing happened. 

You look at your husband, watching him take your answer in. You’re preparing for further questioning, to be put under the white-hot light and spew out lie after lie in order to save your ass and your marriage. You don’t expect him to accept it so quickly. 

“Okay.”

You can’t help but ask him, “Okay?” 

He nods. “I’ll always believe you, you know that. Now come to bed before I start watching Scandal without you.” 

You try to stay put in your room tonight. It’s empty, left alone while your husband attends an event you should’ve been at. But you were sick, riddled with sudden guilt that fostered in your body, creating stomach cramps, headaches, and heat flashes. 

You needed to do something about it. 

You tried to drink it away with warm tea. You tried to wash it away with a hot shower. You try to relax it away in the best ways you know how—room service and an old match of your husbands. But nothing you did helped. You still found yourself in an empty bed, tossing and turning and craving a companion that you shouldn’t crave. 

You know the solution. She sits downstairs. You know she does. You don’t need visual confirmation.

But you get it anyway. Sitting in the same spot as yesterday, in the same cardigan as before. Her hair is pulled away from her face in a clip, but it’s still too short to stay pulled all the way back. Highlights frame her face, and short pieces of hair sit against the nape of her neck. Her head is down, staring straight at the bar where she has her hotel keycard in her hand, tapping the plastic edge against the marble. 

She doesn’t have a drink. You figure she won’t stay for long. 

When you approach her, she doesn’t look up. You don’t bother sitting. 

“Come with me.” 

When you say it, she doesn’t immediately respond. She doesn’t even acknowledge you until at least a minute later, but it could have easily been longer. She looks up at you and she looks like Tashi Duncan. With her hair framing her face messily, her eyes completely free of makeup and soft, she looks like your best friend. She also looks like she’s been crying, or maybe holding it off. 

You want to ask her if she’s okay, but you know what her answer will be, so you save yourself time. 

“Are you gonna leave me again?”

Her response punches you in the gut. It also riles you up. 

You scoff and consider turning back around. You stand your ground long enough to say, “I guess we’re even then, right?”

Tashi doesn’t need further explanation. She backs down, you can see it happening physically. Her shoulders relax and her lips quirk down for a split second. It’s long enough for you to notice it happening, but then it’s gone. She’s stoic, neutral. It’s a practiced look. One she’s perfected by now. 

“Are you coming?” 

She takes a moment, she takes a breath, and then she stands. 

You’re in your hotel room for long enough to hear the door click behind you, signaling that it’s locked, and then Tashi’s lips are on yours. 

It’s unclear who moves first. Maybe you move in tandem, finally satisfied to be with each other in seclusion for the first time in years. 

All that matters is that you’re leading Tashi towards the bedroom and your fallen clothing marks the trail. From the door to the bed lay her cardigan, tee shirt, pants, one of her shoes, your hoodie, your leggings, and both of your shoes.

You fall onto the bed and Tashi quickly follows you. She straddles you, long body curled up to hover over your form, reminiscent of a vulture. 

She kisses you in the same manner as before, but there’s more haste to her lips this time. 

She kisses you like she’s insatiable, taking more and more without taking a moment to see if what she already has is enough. You have a feeling that whatever she takes from you, whatever you give her, will never be enough. 

It’s the same for you. 

Finally getting to hear the sounds Tashi makes whenever you slip your hand between her thighs makes your head spin. It’s an addicting feeling similar to substances that produce the same effect, but this is much better. This is a version you’ll risk it all to have. The moans and gasps that Tashi releases when you press into her clit over the thin fabric of her panties are debilitating. It bruises you, only to build you right back up again. 

You need more. 

So you produce more. 

You slip your hand beneath the waistband and let your fingertips meet Tashi’s bare cunt for the first time. She shudders, so sensitive, and she’s so fucking wet. The first touch flatters you. It comforts you to confirm that you’re having the same effect on her that she’s always had on you. 

Even during times when you hadn’t seen her. During times when you relied on memory, getting yourself off in the shower. Or times when you caught a glimpse of her at a match that your husband was playing in, and you thought of her that night when your husband fucked you in honor of his win. Then, you’d been soaked beyond belief. Much like Tashi is now. 

You don’t waste any more time, giving the suggestion to Tashi with a grin. Of course, she’s quick to accept. 

You ask her if she’s been in this position since that time. She tells you she hasn’t, and she asks you the same. You say you haven’t, but you’ve been dreaming of it. 

You end up face-to-face with Tashi’s cunt, and she is in the same position with yours. Both of you make quick work of the other, no longer in the mood for playing with your food, especially now since it’s sitting right in front of you.

You assume it’s been a while since Tashi’s been with a woman, but she hasn’t lost any of her skill at all. She devours you with enthusiasm, working her mouth in ways that have you momentarily distracted from your own task. 

Until your competitive side kicks in. You refuse to let Tashi win, beginning to engage in a silent, but obvious, competition with her. 

She quickly starts to become more verbal, even her moans sounding breathless. It’s an ego boost. 

“Wish I … Wish I had the—” she breaks her words off to whine and it’s such a heavenly sound. “Wish I had the strap up here.” 

You lay your head back away from her cunt to speak. 

“You have it with you?” There’s humor to your words, and you break off into a laugh when Tashi responds. 

“Art likes it.”

Tashi giggles with you, and as soon as the fit dies down, she lowers her head, you pull her hips closer to you, and you both get back to it. 

The first time is over quicker than either of you anticipated. Tashi cums first, her back arching and her tongue stopping against your cunt. You, on the other hand, kept going. You licked and sucked and teased until Tashi was tapping against your thigh and begging that you stop. Then she continued, and it took barely anything to get you in the same position as her. 

You both finished, but you weren’t done. It was hard to stay off of each other, and even when you did stop, you would take a break and find each other again. You hadn’t fucked that much since your honeymoon. In a way, you felt like you were on your honeymoon. 

The clothes in the closet and the toiletries in the bathroom didn’t belong to Tashi, but you could pretend that they did. The ring on your finger wasn’t Tashi’s, but you pretended it was. You weren’t Tashi’s, but you pretended you were. 

Up until your husband calls you. 

The grogginess in your voice was real and he winced as he thought he woke you. He kept it brief, a quick warning that he was heading home and stopping by a place for food on the way. He sent you the menu, urging you to reply if you wanted something. And then he blew a kiss over the line and told you he loved you. 

You repeated his actions without any hesitation. 

When Tashi inevitably had to leave your hotel room, you kissed her cheek and told her you loved her without any hesitation. 

[nonuify]

Omg, I just read your Joshua headcanons and… WOW! Absolutely speechless. Could you maybe do it with Jun too <3? Just like the person that requested the Joshua one, I’d love to read both BF and NSFW headcanons, but if you don’t have time, I’d love some NSFW Jun headcanons, hehehe. Have a nice day, love your work :)

ᝰ.ᐟ 🥣 — M.JH ; ! boyfriend headcanons

sfw & nsfw is included ! minors do not interact 18+.

📓 ! I think junhui wouldn’t be talkative at first not bc he doesn’t want to but because he is too shy or scared to fuck up infront of a beauty like you.

📓 ! when he warms up to you I think he’s very clingy like it’s so adorable, like everything about him you would know & vice versa.

📓 ! cuddling is a must for you both, like attachment issues? yes you guys are so physical, & you aren’t shy about it cuddling, kissing, holding hands that’s just your thing.

📓 ! random thought but when you saw junhui’s drama you sulked cuz your boyfriend is your boyfriend like what??? he spent the whole night apologizing in every way possible making it up for you & showing that your his :(.

📓 ! junhui loves to send you couples stuff & say “could be us” then with a heart emoji like yes boyfriend of the century.

📓 ! ou you have to tell him that you love him before practice or anything he has or my man is gonna sulk!

📓 ! I think he would send you pics of something saying it reminded him of you because huihui is so whipped for you like-.

📓 ! oh you guys would do the eyeball color bracelets trend like it’s so you guys.

📓 ! sometimes I think jun likes to be a little spoon when you guys cuddle, he feels so much warmth & love from I can’t my finger on it it’s seems so him coded.

📓 ! you guys would go to these cat cafes together & like spend all the day laughing at how the cats are cute, plus hui would kiss you like every second bc of how cute you are !!.

📓 ! with fights I think junhui is more well avoidant of arguments, I think you & junhui would have a more communication style of arguments, you guys would avoid the actual yelling, & dramatic scenes.

📓 ! also I think jun loves leaving hickeys on you but not on a sexual basis but moreover because he thinks it’s a sacred way of showing his love & affection.

📓 ! also he would have a wall of your pics in poloroids like it’s so cute ( you have it too btw ).

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ nsfw starting from this point.

📓 ¡ now I think junhui could be a sub or dom but totally leans in a dom side but he’s such a fucking tease not a mean dom no but he’s looves to tease you.

📓 ¡ like I said junhui looves to mark you up every inch of your body like from neck to ass to boobs he will not be satisfied till he marks you up.

📓 ¡ his foreplay is crazyyyy, like he doesn’t get to babymaking that fast he will tease you till your begging, tears are falling down your cheeks, I think he loves to play with your tits & clit so much edging you till you squirt from being overwhelmed lol.

📓 ¡ idk why but I think he has a lil bilingual kink here or there, like he’d call you his dirty princess in mandarin & you don’t know what he’s saying, you’ll just moan out from how hot he is saying that.

📓 ¡ when he subs, you both love when you put a lil heart butt-plug in him like my baby is gonna be so hard just from the thought of that.

📓 ¡ junhui has a must to words of affirmation during intimacy even if it’s a simple “I love you” it means so much to him to know the feeling of during love making .

📓 ¡ he has a thing for seeing his cum all over your back & ass, it just makes him wanna go for more seeing all his liquids all over you, assures him that your his & only his.

📓 ¡ oh he looves you riding him, it’s his fav position he absolutely fucking adores it !! like seeing you all needy bouncing on him tits going up & down with you ugh :(

📓 ¡ also he adores dryhumping omg, like he would absolutely fuck you just from clothes on, seeing the big patch forming on your panties would make him hazy.

📓 ¡ huihui is obsessed with you, when you dress all up pretty for him in a pretty lacy set with some stockings god you know your in for a night.

📓 ¡ I just have a thought of him having his cock pierced like it’s so fuckin hot when the slides in you, you feel that cold feeling of the metal in you, you would just scream from that.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! i hope you enjoy this bby!!!

[jjkamochoso]

A Game of Fire and Ice

Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Satoru Gojo x gn!reader

When you get hurt on a mission, Gojo’s full power comes to light and you get a front row seat to seeing just how vicious your boyfriend can be.

Inspired by the lyrics “I don’t wanna scare you but I can and I will and I fucking hate it” in the song “Curses” by food house

Warnings: cussing, violence, blood

Satoru was warm.

His presence around you was like sunshine lighting up your face on the hottest summer day. His love for you burned as if he were the blazing logs in a fireplace on the coldest winter night, or an uncontrollable forest fire in the wilderness.

Satoru was warm.

Gojo was not.

His piercing ice blue stare could make the strongest enemy weak in the knees. If someone ever dared to get in his way, the drunkenness of power he felt as he tore them down, bit by bit, playing with the poor soul akin to a cat toying with a trapped mouse, was a feeling he would never tire of.

Satoru was warm. Gojo was frigid. Brutal, even.

And right now, it was Gojo that swarmed your vision, not Satoru, as you laid in the street, sticky blood pouring from your wounds and coating the pavement in a macabre painting of pure burgundy. The curse you were sent to exorcise had been misranked and maybe if you were more prepared walking into your fight with a special grade, you wouldn’t be on your deathbed right now. As a grade 1 sorcerer, you were by no means weak, but your opponent was formidable, outmaneuvering your techniques and putting up a strong fight, so much so that you were currently splayed out instead of standing up. When Gojo heard you were sent to fight a special grade instead of the simple grade 2 you were expecting, he was quick to teleport to your area as soon as he could. He knew you could handle yourself but figured you wouldn’t mind a helping hand so you could get back to enjoying your day together. And a helping hand was a far cry from what you needed at this point—you needed to see Shoko as soon as possible. As Gojo began his fight with the curse, you tried using reverse cursed technique to stop your bleeding but it was no use. Your energy had dwindled too much and you had no choice but to watch the fight unfold, hoping Gojo could be quick today. You heard the white haired man cackle as he unleashed raw fury upon the curse, pummeling it with cursed energy. Even through your spotted vision, you saw how he released endless amounts of punches at the curse, hitting it with both the blue and red techniques and laughing uncontrollably as the curse desperately tried to evade the attacks.

“What’s wrong? Getting tired?” taunted Gojo, blue eyes radiating a bloodlust like you had never seen before. It chilled you to your very core seeing how ruthless he gets with his enemies. You remembered how just the other night you were cuddled with the tall man, his lithe figure lazily draped over you, laughing about something silly and immature. You could hardly believe it was the same man in front of you, the one showcasing an insatiable desire to cause as much pain and anguish to this curse as he could. It was like he was in his own little world where nothing else mattered but proving his superiority over the curse he could easily squish under his well polished, expensive shoe like a bug.

“Don’t give up yet! We’re having fun, aren’t we?”

Another blast of blue went by and rubble from the now obliterated building came raining down on you, doing nothing to help the throbbing headache you were nursing. You shakily put a hand to your gushing abdomen and pulled it away to see it hadn’t let up a bit. You didn’t have much time but Gojo didn’t seem to notice. Maybe his Six Eyes were telling him you could hold on for a few minutes longer? You didn’t know. All you were aware of was that it was time for Gojo’s game of predator and prey to come to an end.

“Gojo, please… just end it,” you pleaded, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continually jumped around, frustrating the curse he was battling since it couldn’t land a single blow on the man.

“Gojo!”

Nothing.

More rubble fell on you, this time hitting you in the same spot as the curse did, making your wound bleed even more, which you didn’t think was possible.

You let out an anguished groan. “Sa… Satoru. Please.”

That was enough to gain your lover’s attention. The glint of his blue eyes caught your own and it was like he crashed back down to earth and became aware of his surroundings, no longer intoxicated by sheer power. When he finally espied exactly how hurt you were, he opened his domain and killed the curse once and for all, his mind reeling with the fact that you were gravely injured. As much fun as he was having, you were supremely more important to him than continuing to play with the curse that dared to lay a finger on you. As you saw him rip the head off the curse and explode it into tiny pieces, you let out a sigh of relief knowing that thing was dead. The domain closed and your boyfriend ran over to you in a flash; you could tell Satoru was back.

Your Satoru.

So why did you feel uneasy when he loomed over you?

“Y/n, hey, you’ll be alright, just hang in there a sec, okay? We’re going to Shoko.”

As his long fingers reached toward you, your body reacted before you could think rationally about your actions.

You flinched.

You saw the hurt flash across his face, apparent only for a second before it was gone in an instant as he scooped you up. Satoru was feeling a multitude of emotions at that point. He was grateful that the curse was laughably weak and couldn’t land a single blow on him or else he probably wouldn’t have enough energy to teleport you back to the school like he was currently doing. However, he was taken aback by your reluctance to let him near you. Why did you have such a visceral reaction to him reaching for you?

Was it you being afraid of him accidentally hurting you with all your injuries?

Or was it you afraid of him hurting you…

On purpose?

You had fallen unconscious as he hauled you into Shoko’s office, laying your body on a table so she could heal you. He took a seat on an extra chair, a frown settling on his typically smiling face. Beside the glaringly obviously shitty fact that his partner was seemingly now afraid of his touch (or him as a whole), he hated seeing you like this, bruised and bloodied, especially due to a clerical error. You shouldn’t have been sent there at all, certainly not by yourself anyway, and if he hadn’t gotten there when he did… Satoru shook his head to clear the thought.

“They’ll be fine. If you had waited any longer, they wouldn’t have made it.”

Shoko rested a hand on Satoru’s shoulder, his gaze set on your unmoving body.

“They’ll wake up soon. I’m going for a smoke.”

A few minutes after she left, you began to stir. The cold table jolted you awake and you sat up in an instant, wondering if you were still in the midst of a battle. When you saw you were in a sterile room and Satoru’s blindfold over his eyes, you registered that you were safe and remembered the fight was over.

“Glad to see you’re awake. I was missing seeing those beautiful eyes of yours,” Satoru said, but his tone was anything but playful.

“Satoru, I-”

“Why did you flinch?”

You were quiet, stunned at his outright question and it prompted him to ask again, urgency lacing every word.

“When I reached for you back there. Why did you flinch?”

The truth had to come out now, there was no way for you to avoid answering. Not when he was staring you down, the blindfold doing nothing to lessen the intensity.

“Satoru, you… you scared me.”

The frown was back on his face. “What, like because you thought I was going to hurt you? Or like… hurt you, hurt you?”

His heart was pounding a mile a minute. He’d manage to keep most people at arm’s length his entire life, only letting a certain few get close to him as to avoid getting hurt. Now, waiting to hear your admission, he regretted ever daring to fall in love or thinking he could get some semblance of a happy ending in this messed up world.

“I… I just… I didn’t know at the time.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him, ashamed of your confession, so you kept your eyes on your fiddling hands.

He stood up with a loud screech of the chair as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, my own partner doesn’t even know if I’m going to hurt them,” he said, a bitter chuckle leaving his throat. “I can save you from a curse that’s about to kill you and yet you still don’t feel safe if I’m around.”

“What? Satoru, stop, I had just gotten my ass kicked by a special grade and I was delirious from blood loss. That’s not what I meant.”

“Isn’t it?” he cried out, desperation leaking from him like a broken faucet. “I could kill you right now without breaking a sweat. I have a power that no sorcerer or curse can match. I can annihilate entire countries if I wanted to, y/n, and you’re telling me you’d be completely fine taking me back to your apartment for dinner and a movie right now? You think my abilities cease when I’m not actively fighting a curse?”

“You scared me back there because you were murderous, Satoru,” you seethed, “and because not everyone is some god amongst men like you. I watched my boyfriend toy with a special grade curse like it was nothing. The same curse that nearly took my life and left me bleeding out on the ground, alone. So yes, at that moment, I was scared. I’m sorry for upsetting you, I-”

“See? That’s the thing. I don’t want to scare you but I can and I will and I fucking hate it! Don’t you see how shitty that makes me feel? You’re the one person that I never want to feel afraid of me.” Satoru’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath, calming himself down a little before continuing. “I went ballistic because that curse almost killed you. It needed to suffer for trying to take away the thing I hold dearest in this world. I don’t know what it’s like to lose in a battle of jujutsu, and I probably never will. I just know that I want to keep you safe and I will do whatever I must to make that happen.”

“I get that, Satoru, believe me,” you replied, finally looking at him. You could tell he was distraught and you understood why. You couldn’t imagine the weight he held on his shoulders as the strongest, not to mention how his (justifiably) large ego made it difficult to empathize and connect with others at times. However, you knew that the man in front of you was not the killing machine that relished in the pain he inflicted on others. The man in front of you was your loving boyfriend, the one who sent you funny cat videos and pouted when he couldn’t buy copious amounts of sweets at the store. Even though they were the same person, you knew that there was a time and place for both iterations of the man and they would both do everything in their power to keep you happy and safe. You reached out your hand to his cheek and this time it was him who flinched as your delicate touch landed on his skin.

“You are prideful, egotistical, and often arrogant. You don’t take criticism well or understand that there’s a time and place for jokes. You like to show off your immense power and yes, oftentimes it scares the shit out of me.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You’re not making me feel any better.”

“But,” you said, your thumb softly swiping along his jaw, “I know underneath all of that lies a good heart. You are a good man, Satoru, one that I’m proud to love. I know you wouldn’t hurt me on purpose, okay? In that moment, when I flinched, it wasn’t only you specifically, but the situation as a whole that I was scared of. You’re a total menace when you’re mad.”

You gave him a kiss on the cheek and he leaned into it ever so slightly.

“But you were also totally hot as you ripped the head off that curse for me. I trust you with my life, forever and always. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t.”

Satoru accepted your apology internally, opting to instead do what he did best—crack a joke and lighten the mood.

“It was agonizing watching my favorite cuddle buddy pull away from me, I felt like I needed Shoko to heal my own wounds,” he said, pouting. You shook your head and let out a small laugh, making Satoru genuinely smile for the first time that day. He may not do everything right in a relationship, or completely understand how to relate to other people, but he’d be damned if he let you die before he could try to learn.