#besides the voice acting I did like it

[mrdrhenwardhykle]

[zaddyazula]

i just want to fucking leave man

[achingly-shy]

agents of shield 1x06 fzzt episode of all time

[veritasangel]

༊*·˚ I Wanna Be Down

Ft. Sukuna, Geto & Gojo, Choso, Nanami

sum: how they react when you send them a sexually explicit photo/video.

warnings! fempov, inappropriate pics/vids, piv (unprotected in nanami's), creampie, mutual masturbation, phone sex, fingering, oral (receiving/giving), perv choso, geto shares with gojo, age gap (legal) in sukuna's & nanami's

wc: 9.3k (sorry!) - masterlist

a/n: got carried away with writing nanami's, kinda wanna make his a proper series.

୨୧ Suguru Geto & Satoru Gojo - boyfriend & his best friend

Suguru was right in the middle of fixing up a car when he got a video from you. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't you riding a dildo, moaning his name. He watched the way you bounced up and down, the sounds you made as your body trembled.

His cock was instantly hard. But you know he's busy and that he can't come back to fuck some sense into you, hell, it's probably why you did it. So instead, he opts to find a solution.

He pulls out his phone and then types a message to Satoru.

Go to my apartment, she's all yours 1 attachment

Satoru needs little to no persuasion and quickly turns up at your place using that spare key he never returned and heading straight up to your bedroom.

He smiles when he sees you, an eyebrow raised. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone's been having some fun without me," he says, closing the door behind him and walking towards the bed. He's already hard, his cock straining against his pants.

He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over to pull the duvet down. "Now, now, don't be shy. Sugs sent me over to take care of you, and I always do what he asks." His voice is low and smooth, his blue eyes shining in the light.

He inches closer, his hand dipping under the blankets to grasp your thigh. "Besides, I know how much you love my cock. And I've been dying to get my hands on you again." He smirks.

You roll your eyes, acting annoyed. "Wanted my boyfriend, not his little puppy."

Satoru snorts, still smiling. "Oh, you're such a tease, brat. I'm not his puppy." Closer, he leans in, and his lips whisper in your ear, "Besides, he's trusting me to look after you, so show me what you've been doing."

He pulls back, but his hand doesn't leave your thigh. "Shall we get started then without him? Or perhaps I should call him now?" There is something teasing in the way Satoru sounds as he begins sliding up your inner thigh.

✧. ┊    

The phone in Suguru's pocket vibrates; Satoru's call lights up the screen. He picks it up and connects his earphones before setting it down on the workbench.

"Hey, Sug. I'm here with her," Satoru's voice comes through the line, followed by rustling fabric. "She's being a little brat, saying she wanted you, not me."

He can hear you huffing in the background. He chuckles, shaking his head. "Well, you know how to handle her, don't you?"

Suguru's eyes fall back on the car as his mind strays to the sounds through the phone. He can almost see Satoru's hands on your body, his cock hard and ready for you, like he always is. The way he'd tease you, how you'd plead, how Satoru would whine—lost in his own pleasure.

"Well, then, make sure she's satisfied, because I can't join." Suguru says, his voice low and husky with desire. Satoru puts the phone to the side on loud speaker as he leans in to kiss you.

Suguru's cock throbs in his pants at the sound of you and Satoru through the phone. He could hear sounds of the kissing, rustling of fabric as the clothes are removed, he imagines Satoru touching all over your body, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Fuck, Satoru," he groans, not being able to get himself off at the moment. Nobody else is at the workshop but he's not taking that risk, so he just listens as he works. "Don't keep her waiting," Suguru says into the phone, his voice low.

Satoru slides his hand between your legs, and he grins, feeling your wetness. His fingers slide into you, and you gasp and arch your back. He looks at the phone. "She's so wet and ready for me, Suguru. I think she's been missing your cock, huh?" Satoru's voice dripped with lust as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

"You're going to have to make do with mine, though." Satoru grins down at you as he lays down on the bed, kissing up your thighs before diving into your pussy.

Suguru can hear the moans and whimpers that came from you, and his stomach was hard in his pants. He is relieved Satoru was taking care of you, but he couldn't help the thought of wanting to be the one to fill you up.

"I'll make sure she's satisfied, Suguru," Satoru vows, his voice husky with desire. "Might even start preferring me to you."

"Never." you say, lightly smacking Satoru.

Satoru chuckled, a smile on his face as he went back to eating you out. "Oh, yeah? We'll see about that." He said, his tongue flicking against your clit.

Suguru's smirk at your denial is proud. He absolutely loves how loyal you are to him, even though you're here with Satoru. He would make it up to you when he gets home and show you just how much better he is.

Satoru's tongue swirls around your clit, sucking and licking, and you squirm and moan at the sensations. "Mmm, you taste so good. Bet Suguru's jealous as hell right now," Satoru purrs, his breath hot on your sensitive flesh.

He pulls back, his chin glistening with your juices, "Hey, Sug, listen to this pretty pussy—all wet and ready for me."

Satoru dives back in, his tongue going deep inside of you as his nose presses against your clit.

Suguru groans at the sound, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. "That video you sent was so fucking hot. Seeing you on that dildo, fuck, it made me so bloody hard. It's not fair to send it when I can't come see you though, is it?" says Suguru in a low tone.

He could hear the muffled moans from Satoru as he ate you out, the wet sounds of his tongue sliding through your folds. Suguru's cock twitched at the idea of joining you two, burying himself deep inside you.

"Make her cum, Satoru," he demanded, the harshness in his voice spiking with desire. "I want to hear her scream for you."

Knowing that, Satoru tries even a bit harder now. His tongue lashed on your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you. He could feel you clenching around him, tensing up, your orgasm nearing. Satoru swipes his tongue along your folds as his fingers glide in and out to hit that spot inside you.

Your orgasm was building, tension welling in your body. Satoru's lips were on your clit, sucking hard as his tongue flicked against it. Your hips bucked off the bed as your moans grew louder, more desperate. Satoru's hands had to hold you down to stop you squirming away.

"Sugs- I think I'm going to have to keep her for myself," Satoru teases, his voice thick with lust as his tongue moves through your folds.

Satoru's tongue doesn't stop. His fingers are back, pumping in and out of you, while his lips suck on your clit. You can feel yourself getting close.

"Come on, baby," Satoru presses, his voice muffled against your pussy. "Cum for me. I want to taste you. Let him hear how good I am."

Suguru groaned at the sound of you, close to your climax. "That's it, baby. Cum for him. Let me hear you."

He sucked hard on your clit, fingers curling inside, and that was enough. Waves of your orgasm crashed over you from head to toe. Your body shook as you cried out in pleasure.

Satoru licks up your juices as his tongue swirls over your clit while you come. He backs up a bit, looking down at you with a grin on his face, his face slick from your cum. "I could eat this pretty pussy all day," he moans, his voice laden with lust.

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head. "I bet you could, you little insatiable bastard. But she needs your cock now, don't you think?" He can hear you whimpering, your body still trembling from your orgasm.

Suguru's cock throbs with every pulsation at the thought, pissed he can't be there to see you.

Satoru smirked as he hurriedly undressed. He reached for his wallet and pulled the the condom out and tore it open, rolling it down his hard length.

"Beg for it." he murmurs, his voice suddenly deep and husky. "Beg me to fuck you."

Suguru groans at the sound, his cock throbbing in his pants. "Tell him what you want, baby."

"As if I'd beg you, pretty boy," you tease, since you know the nickname drives him mad.

Satoru smirks at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, so that's how it is," he says in a pulled-away breath, "I don't know how he deals with you."

Suguru's lips curled at the edges and he chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, I handle her just fine. She just likes to be a little difficult." He could hear you huffing in annoyance, though he knew you were just teasing. "Come on, baby," Suguru soothed, his voice low, seductive. "I know you want him. I can hear it in your voice."

Satoru grins and leans down, lips brushing against yours as his tongue slides into your mouth, his cock grinding against you in a torturous tease of what you could possibly have.

"Just say please," Satoru purrs against your lips. "A nice pretty please and I'll let you have it."

"I'm not going to say-"

His hand comes up to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging ever so slightly as Satoru demands in a low voice, "Say it.".

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn't deny the burn that now lay in them. "Ugh fine-" you sighed, "Please, toru? Please can you fuck me?" you asked with a scowl, though the lust behind your eyes showed differently.

Satoru grins, his eyes dark with hunger, as he positions his cock at your entrance. He doesn't hold back, too desperate to feel you. In one powerful motion, he stuffs you full, to which you gasp and arch off the bed as he bottoms out inside you.

"Good girl," he praises low and possessively, drawing back to let his cock slide from you only to plunge into you once more.

Satoru's thrusts, deep and powerful, his cock stretching you wide open, filling you in a way that the dildo couldn't. He began to set a punishing rhythm, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed back into you again.

The way he fills you is intoxicating—every slap of his balls against your ass, every growl of your name, holding onto your hips and trying to keep control.

A shiver runs down your spine with each thrust. He changes the angle again to repeatedly hit that sweet spot, which makes you moan loud enough for Suguru to hear. He's big and being filled up to this degree is breath-taking.

Suguru groans at the sound of your moans. His cock in his pants throbs. "Fuck-," he says, his voice hoarse with desire. "Love hearing you moan like that for him."

Satoru grins back, his hips smacking up against yours. "That's it, baby. Let him hear exactly what he's missing." He bends down lower, his teeth raking at your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark that he know Suguru will love and hate at the same time.

You moan, your nails digging into his back, encouraging him on. Satoru's cock brushes against all of those spots inside you, and it feels heavenly. It's not quite like anything else, full, stretched in a way that seems to ache, but in a good way. Of course, nothing like your boyfriend but you can't deny he's good at what he does.

Suguru breathes heavily, having forgotten about the car he's working on, just focusing on the phone. "You're such a good girl, taking his cock so well," he praises in a thick voice. "I can't wait to get back, to feel you wrapped around me."

Satoru chuckles as his thrusts grow harder, faster. "Well, you're going to have to wait your turn- I'm not done with her yet." He starts slowing his thrusts as he feels his pleasure rising and his cock twitching inside you. "Fuck, baby. You're gonna make me come," he grunts. His voice is thick with desire as his whines fill the room because his cock is so sensitive at every movement of your walls.

Suguru's voice in his seductive, low tone as he praises you over the phone, "That's it. Such a good girl. You're doing so well, taking his cock like that. I'll reward you later."

Satoru's thrusts speed up, his grip on your waist getting tighter as he chases his release. "You're so lucky I put a condom on, Sug." he growled, his cock throbbing inside you. "Jus' wan' fill this pretty pussy up." he groans, biting down on your shoulder.

Satoru's orgasm was close, he could feel it, the tension rising with every thrust. Your own approaching even quicker, encouraged by his moans and Suguru's sweet praise.

Satoru's thrusts become more insistent, his hips jerking forward into yours with a fierce, almost animalistic energy. His cock pulses inside, the head most surely swelling in preparation to burst. "Fuck, Sug, I'm close," Satoru growled in his tightened voice of lust.

His thrusts become falter, as his movements become sloppier. "Cum for me, baby," Satoru groans, his voice so low and hungry. "Wanna hear you moan my name."

Your orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your pussy clenches around Satoru's cock, milking him for all he's worth. "Fuck Toru!" you let out a cry of his name, your body arching off the bed at hitting that peak.

"Fuuck-" he whines, his cock throbbing as he follows you over the edge. His hips stutter, cock pulsing with his cum as it fills the condom. He collapses on top of you, energy vibrating through his frame from the release.

"God, you feel so good," Satoru pants, pushing his forehead against yours as he comes down from his high. He stays inside you, savouring the aftershocks.

Suguru doesn't hang up, still on the line and hearing your pleasure sounds as his own cock throbs torturously in his pants. "Such a good girl."

Satoru slowly pulls out, slipping the condom off his cock with a wet pop. He disposes of it and then climbs back onto the bed, lying beside you as he pulls you into his embrace.

Suguru's voice is tender, his praise soft and gentled in your ear. "You did good, sweetheart."

Satoru chuckles, nuzzling your neck. "I can sweet talk her, don't worry." he teases, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

Suguru laughs, shaking his head. "I'm sure you can, toru. But I want to hear her voice, know she's okay."

You smile, your voice soft and sleepy, as you reply, "I'm okay, Sug. More than okay. Toru was great. I'm just sleepy now and I miss you." you yawn.

Suguru chuckled, his voice was warm and affectionate. "I bet you do, baby. Why don't you catch a nice nap with Satoru, and I'll wake you guys up once I get back?"

You murmur your agreement, feeling your eyes grow heavy already.

Satoru kisses the top of your head, then pulls you closer. "Don't work too hard, I'll look after her." Satoru reassures Suguru as he ends the call, his eyes closing as he leans into you.

୨୧ Kento Nanami - dad's best friend

Nanami's eyes widened as he stared at the picture you sent him earlier, depicting you in lingerie. His heart raced, his pulse quickened, and his breathing grew shallow. The image of you in that revealing outfit played in his mind, leaving him aching for more.

He knew it was wrong to entertain such thoughts, especially when you were his best friend's daughter. But the temptation was too great to ignore. The line had blurred, and Nanami found himself craving the warmth of your body and the feel of your touch.

A sense of guilt plagued him, but he couldn't help but appreciate the beauty you exuded. The thought of you wearing such lingerie for him sent a thrill down his spine, and he found himself powerless to resist.

With a heavy heart, he responded to your message, inviting you to his house. He knew he was opening a Pandora's box, but he couldn't bring himself to deny the desires that consumed him. Nanami steeled himself, preparing for the consequences that would inevitably follow.

His heart raced as he heard the knock on his door, and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He knew this was a path he shouldn't have taken, but the allure of being with you was too strong to resist.

He opened the door, his gaze immediately drawn to you. You looked even more stunning in person, wearing a pretty dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. Nanami's eyes lingered on you for a moment before he cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure.

"Please, do come in," he said, moving aside to grant you entry. His heart was pounding while you moved past him; the smell of your perfume invaded his nostrils.

Nanami couldn't help but be struck by your beauty. You looked beautiful in your dress, your hair was stunning and in your eyes, something mischievous gleamed. He knew he was playing with fire, but the temptation was too great to resist.

He brushed against you, making contact that sent jolts of electricity through his body. He had to fight the urge to pull you closer. "I'm glad you could make it," he said, his voice low and husky. "I've been looking forward to seeing you all day."

He reached out and brushed some hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. The touch was electric, and Nanami felt a surge of desire course through him. He knew he should stop, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away—not when you were so close, so tantalizing.

"I heard the business deal was a success, my Dad told me." you say

Nanami's eyes widened slightly at the mention of your father, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, engaging in a forbidden relationship with his best friend's daughter. But the temptation was too great to resist.

He stepped closer to you, his hand finding its way to your waist. "Yes, the deal went well," he said, his voice low and husky. "But I must admit, my thoughts have been... elsewhere today."

His gaze drifted over your body, taking in every curve and contour. Nanami felt a surge of desire, a need to touch you, to feel your skin against his.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've been thinking about you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "About the picture you sent me. About the way you look in that lingerie."

His hand slid lower, cupping your ass and pulling you against him. He could feel the heat of your body, the way your breasts pressed against his chest. Nanami knew he was crossing a line, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when you were so close, so willing.

"You shouldn't send pictures like that to someone like me." Nanami says lowly as his eyes meet yours.

"Why not?"

Nanami's grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you closer, the heat between you becoming almost unbearable. "Because I'm far too tempted to act on it," he said, his voice thick with desire. "I'm a man, and you're a beautiful woman. Mix that in with the fact that you're the daughter of my best friend. It's a recipe for disaster."

He felt his heart pound, his body begging for more. Nanami knew it was wrong. He knew this would tear apart his friendship, nothing he could do would heal the damage it'd cause.

Yet, in your eyes, he saw the very same need staring back. A fight he knew he had no hope of winning but couldn't help himself from fighting. "I shouldn't have invited you here," he whispered, lips caressing your earlobe. "But I can't seem to resist the pull."

Though his words said it, Nanami couldn't bring himself to let go of you. His hand was still cupping your ass, holding you close with his body, while the other brushed strands of hair from your face. His heart was at a torn junction of what he knew was right and what his body was crying out for.

You give in, leaning forward to kiss him. The touch of your lips to his sent shivers down Nanami's back as it became electric. The kiss was passionate, hungry, full of the desire that had been building between the two of us. Nanami's hands tightened on your waist, drawing you in closer as he deepened the kiss.

The guilt and reservations he had moments before vanished, replaced by the primal need to be with you. His heart raced, and his thoughts became a jumble of lust and longing.

Despite the knowledge of the consequences, Nanami couldn't bring himself to push you away. The pull between the two of you was too strong, and the desire too great. For now, he would allow himself to indulge in the forbidden, to savour the moment before the harsh reality of their situation came crashing down.

Nanami's breath caught in his throat as he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "That picture you sent me," he said, his voice low and husky. "It was the most erotic thing I've ever seen. The way the lingerie clung to you, the colour against your skin... it was like a dream come true."

He reached out, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "I couldn't stop thinking about it. About you." his hands roam.

"How many college boys got that same picture, huh?" he said darkly.

You chuckled slightly, hearing the dangerous undertone in his words. You shake your head, looking up at him, "None."

Nanami's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness. "Is that so?" he repeated, his voice thick with lust. "No one else has the privilege of seeing you like this, huh? Just me?"

He pulled you closer, his hand cupping the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. The thought of you being all his, of having this secret between the two of them, sent a thrill down his spine. Nanami knew this was wrong, that he was betraying your father's trust, but the allure of being with you, of having this forbidden connection, was too great to resist.

His hand slid up your back, reaching for the zipper of your dress. "I want to see more," he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. "I want to see everything."

Nanami's heart pounded in his chest, his body aching for you. He knew he was crossing a line, but the desire was too strong, the temptation too great. For now, he would allow himself to indulge in the forbidden, to savour the moment.

Nanami's fingers fumbled with the zipper, his heart racing as he waited for your response. He looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. If you gave him the go-ahead, he would take you straight to his bed, unable to resist the pull any longer.

His body ached for yours, and as he stared into your eyes, he saw the same desire reflected back. Nanami knew he was walking a dangerous path, but in that moment, all he could think about was being with you, of feeling your body pressed against his, of losing himself in the pleasure that awaited.

"Please-" you whispered softly.

Nanami's breath caught in his throat as you whispered your plea, and he couldn't resist any longer. His fingers finally pulled the zipper down, revealing your lingerie-clad body. Nanami's eyes widened as he took in the sight, his desire for you growing even more intense.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours once more as his hands roamed over your body. His fingers traced the outline of the material, the lace against your skin. Nanami's heart pounded in his chest, his body aching for more.

He lifted you into his arms bridal style and carried you towards his bedroom. The weight of your body in his arms, the feel of your soft skin against his, was intoxicating.

Once in the bedroom, he laid you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. Nanami leaned in, his lips brushing against your collarbone, making their way down to your breasts. He lowered the fabric slightly, but didn’t remove it. He took a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand caressed the soft flesh of your thigh.

Nanami's hands roamed more, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He could feel the heat of your core, the wetness that awaited him. His heart raced as he explored your body, his touch becoming more urgent with each passing moment. He knew he was crossing a line, but the temptation too great.

Nanami's voice was thick with lust as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "So fucking pretty, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers dipping into your panties, teasing your clit. "You shouldn't be here, you should be a good girl and stay away from me."

His other hand cupped your breast, squeezing gently as he leaned down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. "But you're not a good girl, are you?" he asked, his voice dark and seductive. "You're here, and you want this just as much as I do."

Nanami's fingers continued to tease, his touch becoming more insistent as he sought to drive you wild. 

"Can you stop teasing me, jus' wanna get fucked by you." you whine, squirming slightly under his touch.

Nanami's hand slid down to your panties, his fingers teasing your clit through the damp fabric. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "You want me to slide my cock deep inside you and make you scream my name?"

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I want to fuck you so deep, that you'll never forget this moment. That you'll crave me every time you close your eyes. I want to take it slow, to savour it."

Nanami's fingers slipped beneath your panties, teasing your entrance. "But not tonight... I can't spend too much time," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I have a celebratory dinner with your father later tonight, and I can't be late."

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire as he looked down at you. "So, I'm going to have to make this quicker than I’d like," he said, his voice thick with lust. "But I'll make it up to you, I swear."

He quickly unbuckled his pants, freeing his hard cock. Nanami stroked himself a few times, his eyes never leaving your body. "You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Nanami watched as you lowered your panties and began to finger yourself, his eyes darkened with lust. The sight of you touching yourself, preparing for him, was almost too much to bear.

He settled between your legs, his cock pressing against your entrance. Nanami leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as he slowly pushed inside you. The feeling of your tight heat enveloping him was almost too much to bear, and he had to stop for a moment, savouring the sensation.

Nanami began to move, his thrusts slow and deep as he sought to bring you both to the brink of ecstasy. He knew he wouldn't last long, not with the way your body felt around him, but he wanted to make sure you came first.

Nanami's hips rocked forward, his cock sliding deep inside you. He began to set a rhythm, his thrusts slow and deep, seeking to fill you completely. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he moved inside you.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck as he began to suck and bite at the sensitive skin. "You feel so fucking good," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "So tight, so perfect. I could stay inside you forever."

Nanami's thrusts became more urgent, his hips snapping against yours as he drove himself deeper inside you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.Nanami's thrusts were desperate, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. 

Even as Nanami's movements became more urgent, he remained tender with you. His fingers caressed your hips, his grip firm but gentle. "That picture you sent me," he panted, his breath hot against your skin. "It turned me on like nothing else. I want more, sweetheart. I want to see you like that, all for me."

His hips began to move in a frenzy, his cock sliding in and out of you with rapid, powerful strokes. "I want to see you wearing nothing but lace, your body on display for me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Just f'me, yeah?"

Nanami's grip on your hips tightened, his body tensing as he fought to hold back his release. "Want you to be mine" he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "I want you, and I'll make sure you're taken care of, that you never want for anything."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he drove himself deep inside you. Nanami's fingers found your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued to thrust inside you. His lips found your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin as he sought to drive you wild with pleasure.

"Need you so fucking bad, I don't care." he says. His fingers moved faster, his touch becoming more insistent as he sought to bring you to the edge of ecstasy. His hips snapped against yours, his cock sliding deep inside you with each powerful thrust.

Nanami's breath hitched in his throat as he felt you tighten around him, the signs of your impending orgasm clear. He increased the pace of his fingers on your clit, his lips finding yours once more as he continued to thrust.

His own release was close, his body tensing with the effort to hold back. "Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you clench around my cock."

Nanami's thrusts became more urgent, his body trembling with the force of his desire. He could feel his own climax building, the pressure in his balls growing more intense with every passing moment.

As you reached your peak, Nanami couldn't hold back any longer. With a guttural groan, he slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside your body as he came. His release spilled into you, the warmth of his seed filling you as he held you close, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

Nanami's breathing became heavy, his body still pressed against yours as he tried to catch his breath. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss. "That was amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "You're amazing."

Nanami's fingers traced patterns on your skin, his touch gentle and soothing as he held you close. He knew he should pull out, should clean up and get ready for his dinner with your father, but he couldn't bring himself to move just yet. He wanted to stay like this, with you in his arms, for just a little longer.

Nanami's hips continued to slowly rock against yours, his cock sliding in and out of your sensitive body as he savoured the afterglow. He could feel his release leaking out of you, the warmth of it coating his still-hard shaft.

Nanami's eyes fluttered closed as you kissed his forehead, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He appreciated the gentle touch as you brushed the sweat-slicked hair back from his face.

Eventually he began to pull out of you, his movements slow and careful. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret as he disconnected from your body, the sensation of being inside you fading away.

Nanami leaned back, his eyes meeting yours as he pulled away from your body. "Your father won't be coming back here after the dinner," he said, his voice low and husky. "So, you can stay here, take a shower, order some food, and settle into my bed if you'd like."

He reached for a towel, gently wiping your thighs. "I'll leave you some money for the food," he added, his voice filled with a sense of protectiveness. "You can stay here as long as you want."

Nanami's eyes held yours, the desire still there, but tempered by a newfound sense of care.

He stood up, his movements smooth and graceful. "I'll get dressed and leave you to it," he said, his voice filled with a sense of reluctance. "Make yourself at home. I'll see you when I get back."

୨୧ Choso Kamo - roommate

Choso laid across the couch, scrolling his phone, as a video message popped up in his notifications. He opened it, expecting a stupid video from his friends, but the preview threw him off.

It was a video of you, his roommate, and you were doing things that made his mouth go dry. He watched, riveted, as you slipped your fingers into your panties, biting your lip as you began touching yourself.

Choso knew he should stop watching, you would've sent that by accident, he should be a good friend and delete it. But he was too captivated—so it seemed—in seeing you play with yourself as the soft moans coming from your mouth filled his ears.

Choso's eyes widened, and his heart raced as he watched the video. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. His cock began to harden; the veins became more pronounced by the second.

The way your body moved, your chest heaving up and down with every breath, your face flushed with such desire. It was impossible not to watch. He palmed his hardening cock through his pants, trying to ignore the ache building inside him. But as your moans grew stronger and your fingers moved faster, Choso couldn't hold back anymore.

He quickly stood up and headed straight for your bedroom. He knew that he shouldn't be in here, but he just couldn't help it, he wanted to be in your presence, near you. He walked in, eyes looking around everywhere, to the bed, to the dresser, to the closet. He could smell the room, your scent, and it only made him harder.

His eyes had locked on the laundry basket in the corner of the room. He walked to it, his cock aching with anticipation. It was too late and he couldn't stop now.

He had to dig his hands into the basket of clothes until he found the material he was looking for. Grasping a pair of your panties, he held them up to his face and inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent — your scent. It was heady, and he was even harder because of it.

He pulled the panties up to his mouth, unable to stop himself from licking along the damp patch. He could taste your essence, and it was so sweet—the most delicious thing in the world to him. He even let out a moan, his desire unrestrained.

He was too far gone. He needed to cum, had to release all this pent-up tension. It's your fault, you should have been more careful with those messages.

Choso laid down on your bed, feeling the softness of the mattress around him, satisfied in knowing that you sleep here every night. He adjusted himself, his cock starting to strain against his sweats. He reached into his pants and pulled his cock free. He ran his hand over it, feeling the precum dripping off the tip.

Now holding your panties in his free hand, he rubbed them over the precum on his finger and stroked himself with that too.

The image of you in the video blared in his mind again and again as he stroked himself to the memory of your moaning. The video, your smell from the panties, the thought of you being on this bed just proved to be too much for Choso. 

His free hand reached to his phone to turn the video on once more, and there you were, just the vision of your fingers buried deep in your pussy made him shiver. 

He pretended it was his fingers inside, that he could have his mouth on you, taste you for real.

He closed his eyes and imagined you were there beside him, your hands on his body, your lips against his skin. He ground his hips up into his open hand, visioning you riding him, your tits bouncing with each thrust. He'd wanted to bury his face in them, fuck you until you screamed his name.

Choso dropped the phone, noises of your moans still blaring within. He gripped at the bed sheets, using his fingers to drive down into the fabric. He could smell you in the fabric, making him even harder. He pressed his hips up, his cock brushing along his hand, and released a low moan as he felt his eyes roll back in his head at just how close he was getting to the edge.

He heard jingling keys and the front door opening. He knew that definitely meant you were home, but he just couldn't stop himself from what he was doing. He gripped at the bedsheets and stroked himself faster, his hips thrusting upwards. He could hear you in the living room now, closer now in your footsteps.

He knew he should stop, that he should hide what he was doing, but he didn't want to.

Choso's eyes locked onto yours as his breath got caught in his throat. He knows he should feel embarrassed, ashamed even, but he doesn't. Rather, he feels exhilaration at the rush of adrenaline that flares, having been caught.

He didn't stop touching himself; his hand was moving up and down his shaft. He could feel your eyes on him, but he didn't care. All he was able to focus on was the pressure building, the need to release it.

Choso watched as you walked over, your eyes falling onto the video playing on his phone. He expected you to get angry, to possibly even scream at him, or kick him out of the place but you just laughed.

You looked down at him, and for a moment, your eyes sparkled with mischief. "I see you liked the video?" you say, eyeing him as he slowly strokes his cock.

It hit Choso like an epiphany, that video was definitely sent to him on purpose by you He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe you were toying and teasing him like that.

He could feel his cock throb; he could feel the promise of pleasure about to tip over. He wanted to say something, wanted to apologise, but could find no words.

He just nodded, his eyes locked into yours. It was like your eyes were afire with the look of want. Choso's eyes never found reason to break away. You sat down on the edge of your bed as your fingers brushed across his cock. He breathed out a soft moan as his hips bucked up towards you. He felt his orgasm coming on, the pressure in his balls unbearable.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "Do you want to cum, Choso?" He nodded but couldn't string the words in a line. He wanted to finish. Wanted to cum all over your hand, these panties. He wanted you to see this, to see him release all of this pent tension.

Choso just groaned lightly then when you began softly jerking him off. Your other hand reached for his chin, and you tilted his face up so you could look into his eyes. In them, he could see the desire; he felt the warmth seeping from them at him. He wanted to lose himself in you, to bury himself in you, to be completely consumed by you.

Your hand moved faster, the grip on his cock tightening, bringing his end nearer with each stroke being sent as a lightning jolt. He wanted to cum. He wanted so desperately to just release all this pent-up tension. But also, he wanted to prolong this moment, savour the feeling of your hand on him, in case he never felt it again.

His eyes contained a demand. "Please, please," he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I have to- God- let me cum for you." His hips bucked up, grinding into your hand, looking for more friction, more pleasure.

Choso's cock twitched, the veins seeming to throb in time with every movement of your slick hand. Pre soaked the head of his cock, a testimony to how close he was to the edge.

He whimpered again, his body shaking at being brought closer and closer. He wanted to cum so badly, here with you, it was like one of his fantasies coming to life.

Choso breathed heavily, his moans louder as the speed of your hand increased. His fingers laced with yours, as he tried to stay close to you, eyes on your every movement. He wanted to be yours in this moment. He knew he was only moments away from being unable to hold back.

Choso quivered and whined as your hand tightened around his cock. Every stroke, caress, and touch spread waves of pleasure through his body. His skin flushed with desire; his heart fluttering in his chest.

He lent into you, inhaled your scent as his eyes drifted closed momentarily. He felt that when he was with her, he could feel safe enough to just be vulnerable. It felt as though you could see him, the real him, behind that cold distant version of himself that everyone else saw.

He was losing it, and he was falling, but he didn't give a damn. He just needed it. He needed to be yours, completely and utterly.

Choso clung to you as his eyes rolled back slightly, his orgasm ripping through him. His cock pulsing in your hand, as he shot out thick ropes of cum. A loud moan erupted from him, his body shaking. He was weightless, floating as he rode the waves of pleasure.

You never stopped your hand from making those slow, consistent strokes, milking him for every last drop. He felt your warm caress encase him, your scent pervading his senses. It seemed as if he could stay in this moment forever: lost in your touch, lost in your very presence.

Choso's body lay limp from the orgasm that wrenched through him, his chest heaving for air. Some kind of pleasure-hazed, love-drunk look on his face and his mouth curling into a self-satisfied grin.

He reached up as his hand cupped your cheek. "That was incredible," he whispered; his voice was hoarse from moans. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, "Thank you."

He should have been ashamed at letting you see him like that, but he wasn't. He felt thankful, felt he had been given a gift, a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"You're such a perv." you joke, ruffling his hair.

Choso laughed again, his hand still cupping your cheek. "Guilty as charged," he said. His voice was still hoarse, post orgasm. He leaned in, kissing you gently, as if afraid you might break.

He pulled back, his eyes holding yours "But you're the one who sent me the video," he accused, with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"So, who's the real perv here?"

୨୧ Sukuna Ryomen - sugar daddy

Sukuna's eyes land on the screen of his phone, a message from you popping up. A picture of you in a raunchy lingerie set, one that you’d purchased with his card, a sight that instantly had him swallowing, adam’s apple bobbing.

He had been in his office, preparing for a meeting, and the sight of you in that lingerie set had him hard. It was a sight that he came to relish, to want more of. The thought of your soft skin and the way you would entwine your legs around him, the way you would moan his name, had him biting his lip.

Sukuna's hand darted down to his crotch, adjusting the bulge that was now evidently showing in his trousers. He couldn't leave the room, not in his current state. There was a meeting in half an hour and he needed this to go as soon as possible.

He grits his teeth, his hand working over his cock through his trousers. He needs to hear your voice, needs to have you talk to him. He didn't even think about it, just dialled your number, the phone ringing in his hands.

"Pick up." His voice was low and husky, his breathing heavy as he waited for your response. He needed you, needed to hear you. "I need to hear your voice."

You pick up the call and giggle, the sound sending a shiver down Sukuna's spine. He'd grown to love that sound, to crave it.

"You're wearing that for me, aren't you?" He growls, a low and dark sound. He'd always been dangerous, but with you, he felt something different. He felt...calmer. It was a strange feeling, one that he didn't want to lose.

"Tell me what you're doing right now, doll." His voice is low and seductive, the tone one that would make anyone weak at the knees. His breathing hitches, as he undoes his belt, tugging his trousers and boxers down a little so he could free his cock. He wanted to know every detail, to imagine your hands on your body as he worked his own cock. He needed to hear your voice, to hear your thoughts. He needed to know that you were thinking about him, about pleasing him.

You give in, running him through everything, the reasoning for the lingerie, what other sets you bought. You told him what you were thinking about, how you were touching yourself in this moment.

Sukuna's eyes widened at your words, his hand working faster over his cock. The thought of you touching yourself on your bed, thinking of him, had him groaning. He could almost imagine it, your soft hands roaming over your body, your fingers dipping into your pussy. The thought had him biting down on his lip, his eyes closing as he imagined it.

"Fuck, doll." He growls, his voice low and husky. "Tell me more. I want to hear every detail."

His hand works faster, his cock throbbing with need. He needed to know that you were thinking of him. He had always been such a selfish man, but with you, he felt so different. He wanted to please you, make you feel good. Though he was definitely still greedy and possessive, wanting you all to himself.

"Tell me what you're thinking about." He drawls, and his hand starts moving a little faster. He needed to know that you desired him, craved him, just as much as he did with you.

Sukuna waits, his hand working faster. The sound of his pants straining was loud in his ears, the need to release building.

"I'm thinking about you, Sukuna." Your voice is soft, breathy, the sound causing him to groan. "I'm thinking about how you'll fuck me when you come over, how you'll take me in a way that no one else can."

Sukuna could imagine it: your soft voice, your body trembling as you touched yourself. He could feel the way you would writhe under him, the way you would moan his name.

"I'm thinking about your cock, how it fills me up." You go on, your voice husky. "I want to feel you inside of me, hear you groan my name as you cum."

The sounds of you pleasuring yourself fill his ears; what gets to him is the thought of you touching yourself while you spoke of him, and Sukuna bites down on his lip.

"Sukuna..." Your voice hitches, the sound causing him to groan. "I want you to fuck me." The combination of how you sounded and you wanting him was almost too much. Sukuna could feel his release building, his hand working faster over his cock.

Sukuna's grip tightens on his phone as he hears you, the sound of your soft moans and the wet noises of you touching yourself over the phone. He can't help but imagine you, your fingers dipping into your wet heat, your body trembling as you think of him.

His breathing hitches, his hand working faster and faster over his cock. He can feel the release building, the need to cum threatening to drown him.

With a low growl, Sukuna bites down on his lip, his hips rocking in time with his hand. The room around him fades, the only thing that exists is the sound of your voice, your moans, the thought of you touching yourself for him.

Sukuna's cock is thick and veiny, pulsing in his hand as he strokes it. The head is a deep pink, desperate for release. His hand works faster, the pre-cum slicking his palm as he nears his climax.

The thought of you, the sounds of you touching yourself, has him groaning, his hips rocking with every stroke. His grip tightens, his muscles tensing as he feels the release building. He can't help but imagine it, your soft and wet cunt, the way you'd moan his name as he thrust into you.

"I want to spoil you, baby." He growls, his breathing heavy. "I want to shower you with gifts, to make you mine." He wanted to own, to claim, you for his own—it was an insane thought, one he could usually throw to the side, but with you, he found himself wanting. He wanted to look after you, treat you like the precious gem you are.

His work phone started to ring, but Sukuna didn't care. All his hand did was speed up on his cock and not stop or pull away from the sound of your voice and thinking about you touching yourself for him.

His grip tightened, his hips rocking along with his strokes. He could feel the release building, his need to cum threatening to drown him.

"I can't wait to see you, angel." He growls, his voice low and husky. "I want to taste you, to feel you under me as I claim you."

The thought of you, the sound of your moans, has him groaning, his hand working faster. He can't stop, can't pull away from the thought of you, from the sound of your voice. Sukuna bites down on his lip, his hips rocking as he nears his release. It's building, he can feel it, and the need to cum is going to consume him.

Sukuna's breathing catches at your words; his grip on the phone tightens as the sounds of your moaning and wet noises from touching yourself drive him closer to the edge.

He can do nothing but plead, his voice hoarse, desperate. "Need to hear your voice to cum, it's an addiction." His purr was low, very low—a feeling almost that one swore one felt deep in their chest, lulling one into a false sense of security. He was dangerous but with you, gentle, at least to the surface.

You can hear the need in his voice, the desperation, and you know that you're holding within your hands the power to send him over the edge. You release a soft moan as you continue touching yourself. Your voice causes Sukuna's skin to shiver with goosebumps.

"I want you to fill me up, to claim me as your own." Your voice is soft, seductive, the words causing him to groan. "Cum for me, let me hear you."

His grip tightens, his hips rocking faster as he nears his release. The sound of your voice, the thought of you touching yourself, pushes him over the edge. He can't hold back any longer, his cock pulsing in his hand as he reaches that sweet release.

"Shit, angel." He groans, his voice low and filled with desire. "Should've thought about my suit before doing this."

His cum spurts from the tip of his cock, coating his hand and trousers as he lets out a low, satisfied groan. It was an intense release, the best he's ever had with just his hand. Just thinking about you, the sound of your voice, he shuddered, breathing heavily as the aftershocks of his orgasm sent a shiver running down his spine.

The sound of your moans and the wet noises of you touching yourself continue to ring in Sukuna's ears as you cum. The sound of your pleasure, filled him with a need to hold you, to claim you.

You both cum, the release intense, the thought of each other pushing you to new heights. The sounds of your pleasure, the thought of you both finishing, had Sukuna breathing heavily, his hand still wrapped around his now softening cock.

The silence fills the line, both of you catching your breath, the sounds of your breathing heavy in each other's ears. "Gonna take you out to lunch as soon as this boring meeting's done, it's on me. Wear something pretty" he says as he tries to wipe up.

You breathe heavily, the afterglow of your orgasm still washing over you as Sukuna speaks, the thought of him buying you lunch making you smile.

"I'll wear something pretty for you, Sukuna." You reply, your voice soft and sultry. "I can't wait to see you." The thought of him, has you trembling, the aftershocks of your orgasm still sending shivers down your spine.

"Thank you for the call, baby, I needed that." Sukuna’s voice is filled with gratitude, making you feel cherished.

"Just make sure to behave for the next few hours, f'me, yeah?"

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated & it makes me smile <3

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[bigassmoth]

yandere! elf x reader

Character belonging to @meo-eiru

(I hope I did him justice)

You are quite fed up with your stupid captor coddling you like a "mother" and then coaxing you to swallow his cum. While you have tried to correct his thinking, talking just didn't cut it. You had to take action now.

"Sit down." You speak to Silas as soon as he comes into the home, tone authoritative. He gives you a large smile, ears flushing- since when have you ever greeted him so cutely!? He happily chirps his assent and sets down a basket of various berries and herbs to sit with you on his couch.

"How are you? Are you hungry? Are you thirsty-"

"Do you remember what I have told you about mothers?" You interrupt him and take a sip from your mug, which contains a latte thankfully absent of his cum.

Silas claps and then finally picking up on your tone, decides to lower his hands and voice to sound serious. "Yes! You said mothers care for their children so they grow into adults and then let them go to support them from afar. And you said that mothers don't....uhm..." It was a genuine mental block, Silas didn't like or understand what you told him about his un-motherly behavior so he forgot it entirely.

As you silently scrutinize him, Silas begins to tear up. "I-I'm sorry I forgot-- I was listening I promise but I just can't- it's so hard." He blubbers and then wails, tears spilling over his cheeks. Months ago you would have thought it was over-dramatic acting trying to gain your sympathy. Ah, such a sweet thought. But no, this elf couldn't help but cry over the idea of disappointing you- or worse, not giving you his full undivided attention.

"That's ok, Silas." His waterworks stop when you softly use his name, a rare treat. "I know, it's complicated for you. So we are going to try something different today, I am going to show you everything that a mother cannot do." You set down your mug.

"Ok! Please show me!" He readily agrees, fired up despite his cheeks still being wet.

"Show you, what mothers never do." You emphasize and crawl into his lap, gently pushing him down on his couch.

He tilts his head in confusion, "Mothers don't do this?"

"They do not." You assert and press your lips to his. You start off the kiss with searing heat, all tongue and teeth. You slurp his own tongue into your mouth and nibble it- he squeaks and jerks but your hands hold his face still. Through the thin gossamer fabric of his clothes you feel his cock begin to harden. Quick to seize the opportunity, you grind down harshly on him, using the rough material of your own pants and the rolling of your hips to push his dick down as it struggles to stand.

Silas is beside himself, his hands have naturally come to rest on your hips and cannot decide if they should push or pull you. His hips have a mind of their own, bouncing up against you as you cruelly keep his now fully-hard member between his thighs. He is seeking friction and relief now, different from the controlled release of his 'feedings'. The noises that come from his mouth are high in pitch and frequent, he slips out 'please's in between your bites. Only after you are satisfied he will remain under you do you pull your mouth away from his.

"Who can do this to someone else, Silas?" You demand coolly. He squirms under you and your hips still. Coming down from the feelings of surprise, Silas thinks hard about his answer.

"M....Mothers?" His hesitant answer is progress.

You briefly lift your hips just so his cock can raise against the back of your ass and then you sit back down- hard. Silas throws his head back and yelps, his thighs trembling.

"No." Comes your rigid response. Silas is crying and squirming, likely without realizing he is doing so. He doesn't give you a response, only moans and sniffles. You grip his face until he looks at you.

"Silas, this is what a lover would do." You lift and roll your hips so his dick can finally stand up, and you place yourself behind it so it sits between your crotch and his stomach. You grind on him without build-up, setting a rough and hard pace. To keep your balance you place your hands on his chest and pinch his nipples hard enough you know it hurts.

He is practically possessed under you, letting out the deepest sounds you had heard from him as they become unlocked from his chest. He fully grinds his hips against yours, holds your ass tightly. Typically he touches himself lightly, as if unsure why he is doing it. The wetness he feels from between your legs, restricted by your clothing. The warmth, angry painful warmth, from his cockhead against his own stomach and the trail of thick cum that has begun sliding down his stomach from all of his bucking. Dimly, Slias is aware of how small you are compared to him, not small like a child anymore. Small in a different way, still exciting but new. Would his throbbing piece fit inside of you? Would you even let him? Small as you are, clearly you are an experienced and controlled adult. For the first time since he found you, you finally hold power over him. Now he wants to relinquish all of his power, trust it in the hands of someone who can make him feel so good, so used, so...in the back of his mind Silas remembers a term he read in human erotica, "sexy".

"Lovers milk cocks, lovers pin each other down, lovers touch these parts. Only lovers, no one else is allowed." He wonders how he could have ever thought your voice was innocent. Just hearing you made his ears tickle and his balls tighten. Would you say his name in that husky tone? Would you say his name the way he is chanting yours, mouth thick with drool and tongue too abused to enunciate?

He is choking under you, at this point you can't tell if he is processing your words or not. Finally without warning he snaps, his orgasm zaps through him with a ruthlessness that he hasn't experienced before. His cum coats your pants and his stomach, his cock twitches under you. He moans softly, erotically, as he comes down from his high. On your ass his fingers are twitching, weak from the strongest orgasm of his life but desperate to continue holding you. You pull away anyway, deciding that your work is done. You could now change into clean clothes and hopefully be done with this strange misguided pseudo-incest coming from the biggest bimbo of his species. No more waking up to hear "A good mother always feeds her children!" and receiving a cumshot to the face. You briefly clean the cum off of your own skin and slip into decidedly more comfortable clothes, finding Silas where you left him.

You are tempted to leave him on the couch, shuddering in his afterglow. But your sympathy wins out, you quickly clean him off with a rag (and ignore the way he starts loudly moaning as you touch him), throw a blanket onto him, and place a cup of water by his head.

"Rest for a bit. Once you can walk, clean yourself up. I'm going to make dinner." You turn to go to the kitchen but Silas catches your wrist.

Patiently, you look at him and wait for him to speak. But nothing comes out, the elf stares at his hand holding onto you, mesmerized by your fragility. Something so dainty he could easily break it- this used to terrify him. But now he can only think of ways to restrain you, or to be touched by you.

"Ok, let go. We need food." You sigh and pull your hand back but his grip tightens.

"I am not your mother."

Your face lights up, thank god! He caught on way faster than you thought he would! You should have done this ages ago! Of course some backwards pervert elf would respond to backwards pervert reasoning.

"Yes! Perfect!" In your excitement you are patting his massive shoulder and grinning, "You got it. I am an adult, not a child. You are not my mother, and I don't need a mother. So no more feedings-"

With a speed you didn't know he had, Silas pulled you against his chest. You groan with frustration.

"Fuck! Not this again! I'm not going to suck your tits, your mammary glands don't produce milk if not pregnant-"

"Lovers..." He rasps against your ear. You still as one of his hands, suddenly so intimidatingly large, slides down your back and pushes itself into your pants. His fingers glide between your asscheeks and curiously rub at your hole. You are flinching from the contact, his arms iron cages. He raises his legs and puts them between your own, then spreads them so your hole is forcibly exposed for his fingering.

"No- this isn't what I meant. We aren't lovers, lovers are- it's different. It requires a mutual component of emotional intimacy and chemical responses from environmental circumstances-" He presses a kiss to your ear and then wiggles his tongue inside. You writhe against him until he withdraws.

"Hmm~ I don't get it." He cheerily says and his fingers begin thrusting into you. "But I am not a mother, I understand now. I'm sorry for making so many mistakes." Your clean pants are becoming drenched in your own slick. "We will only do lover things from now on. Milking, Pinning, Touching. Both of us." He whispers sappily into your ear, positively lovestruck. You are still as cute as ever, protesting against the things that make your body feel good. He understands now that you are used to giving, which is why you gave him so much pleasure. He will have to be more assertive a lover for you, to make sure that your body is milked, pinned, and touched.

[dollfacefantasy]

dig your claws right into me ♡

logan howlett x fem!reader

logan hurts you when he has a nightmare. now you both have to deal with the fallout.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, descriptions of nightmare, injury, and blood

a/n: reader is a mutant but i didn't specify her powers so you can imagine what you want. just some sickly sweet intimacy cause that's what i was feeling tonight <3

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The words come out whispered as Logan's lips press against the three tiny bumps of developing scar tissue on your abdomen.

"I already told you that you don't have to be sorry," you say. Your voice drifts into the space between the two of you as soft as the movements of your fingers running through his hair.

"Well I am, bub. You should want me to be."

Each one of his hands rests upon either side of your waist. His fingers squish against your flesh while his eyes stare at the scars on your belly. He gazes at them like the small marks, all equidistant from one another, could be willed away by his harsh look. He hated the fact that they were there at all. Even worse, that he was the one who gave them to you.

"But it was an accident," you respond, giving one of the tufts of his hair a gentle tug.

His dark pupils flit up to look at your face. "Doesn't matter. It being an accident doesn't change the fact that you're gonna have these marks forever. I wouldn't care that it was accidental if I'd killed you."

He remembers the night it happened that seemed like a real possibility.

His light sleep had been interrupted by a nightmare. Over the time that had passed between then and now, it'd become indistinct from all the others he experiences regularly. The only difference between that one and the ones he'd had since he'd started sleeping next to you each night was the intensity. That night had been rough. Normally when he slept in your room, he seemed to be able to tone it down. Almost as if his brain knew to not act up while your relationship was still starting to blossom.

But two weeks ago, his mind didn't care. It flash-banged him with the usual images of himself in that tank. The searing, splitting pain of the adamantium attaching itself to his bones.

Usually, if he had a nightmare beside you, he'd grunt and twitch, maybe shift around a little. That night though, you got to see the whole performance. The tossing and turning, sweating and moaning, tense limbs and scrunched up face.

Poor, sweet, innocent you thought that you could just wake him up. Your hands nudged at his bicep and shoulder as you gently cooed "Logan. It's just a dream."

In the end, your tenderness didn't matter. When he actually came to, your anguished cry was all that registered. And then he felt the sharp heat between his knuckles that meant the claws were out. His heart dropped and his vision nearly blacked out. He couldn't have.

He retracted them as quickly as they'd appeared and pulled back to look at you. Crimson flooded the gray t-shirt you'd worn to bed. The three little spots spread into large blooms of scarlet. Your hands flew to the spot to clutch at it, but they did nothing to stop the warm liquid from spilling out.

"No, no, no, fuck," he'd whispered frantically as his mind raced for a solution.

Your cries morphed into whimpers. Soft and vulnerable. Like a prey animal that'd been fatally wounded but not put out of its misery. Blood seeped out onto your bedding, and it was then that he rocketed off the mattress and scooped you up into his arms.

Fortunately, Scott, Jean, and Storm were already outside the door in the hall, having heard the scream. A gathering of students lingered behind them as well. Shame coursed through his veins, albeit dulled by the panic. He remembered thinking it was stupid, but after the adrenaline left his system, it was the dominant emotion he was left with. Ashamed was the only word that could describe holding the knowledge that everyone here now saw he was capable of hurting the woman he loves. Maybe he was no better than an animal.

In truth, shame was all he felt now. So much relief settled over him since you'd made it out alive. Thanks to the enhanced physical capabilities from your mutation and Jean's adequate medical skills, these scars would be the only lasting effect of the wounds.

He'd rushed you down to the infirmary faster than he'd ever moved in a non-combat situation. His feet thundered down the stairs, a part of him withering to ash with each little whimper you let out as the motion jostled your body around.

"I'm sorry, bub. Almost there. We're almost there. You're gonna be ok," he'd mumbled out thoughtlessly, saying anything he could that would bring you even a shred of comfort.

He kept your hand in his the entire time you were down there on the cold examination table. His grip stayed firm. He wouldn't let the anxiety over your well being consume him. This was his fault, and now you needed him. He didn't get to be worried or upset or anything that wasn't in support of you.

When you howled in pain, he winced as if he was the one being treated. You cried for him, choking out "Logan" through tears over and over. It tore him apart inside. All he could do to soothe you was stroke your cheek and murmur reassurances in your ear.

"Shh, shh, shh. You're doing so good, baby. My strong girl. Being so brave."

He usually reserved affection for private moments, but in those painful seconds, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room.

These thoughts running through his head display across his face. The way his cheek squishes against your tummy and his eyes vacantly stare at the wall opposite his bed. You told him the next day that everything transformed into a blur in your mind. You remembered the feeling of being stabbed and the sight of him panicking, but beyond that nothing specific stayed. You knew he held you and talked to you even though you couldn't recall an individual thing he said or did.

That was fine with him. He listened to you tell the story from your perspective. You spoke with your normal cadence, the usual happy glow in your eyes, and the same animated gestures coming from your hands. His eyes lingered on your torso though. The bandages peeking out from underneath your clean camisole he'd changed you into.

Every last detail of the incident was etched into the deepest part of his psyche. Most likely stored away as material for future nightmares. As much as he hated it, he figured that's the way it should be. He didn't deserve the peace that comes with forgetting.

For the first week after it'd happened, he wouldn't sleep with you. He'd stay with you, cuddled against your body, until you drifted off. Then he'd get up and skulk back to his own room, leaving you cold and alone on your bed.

Eventually after a few more days, you got him to try it out again, but he'd only do it in his own room. It was hard for him to be in yours. New sheets covered your foamy mattress now since the blood wouldn't wash out of the old set. Each brush of the novel material against his skin was just a rose-printed reminder of what he'd done to you.

He's snapped out of his recollection when your voice returns to the original conversation.

"None of that stuff happened though. You didn't kill me, and you're not going to. I'll be more careful next time," you break the silence with a gentle reassurance.

Next time. That's what hurts the worst. You knew this would happen again. You'd promised that when it did you wouldn't try to wake him. Wouldn't touch him or do anything that could set him off. Just give him his space and let him work through it.

"I don't even want you worrying about being careful when you're trying to sleep," he grumbles.

Your nails scrape over his scalp, making his eyes flutter. A deep sigh leaves him. As much as he hated himself for all of this, he could never help easing up under your touch.

"You're worth it."

Three words you said so often. He never believed them, but that didn't stop you from repeating them like a slogan. Instead of arguing with you over the validity of the statement, he stays silent. Replaces any verbal response with a physical one by nuzzling into the warmth of your stomach and laying kisses around your navel.

You watch the affectionate gesture and trail your fingers down to the nape of his neck, massaging the tender skin there.

"You are," you whisper, "One mistake doesn't define you. Doesn't change how I see you."

"It's not just a simple mistake-" he starts.

"Yes it is," you interject, trying to nip his self doubt in the bud.

"It's not. It's not like I forgot your birthday or left my wallet behind when taking you out."

"It's still an accident. The severity doesn't change the intention. Would you hate me if my powers acted up and hurt you?"

God, you could be just as stubborn as him. It grated on his already frayed nerves. He shifts to look up at you fully. And some of that building tension dissolves upon seeing the earnest look on your face.

"It's not the same. Anything you did to me, I would heal," he says.

"I'm healing too. I'm just not as fast as you," you respond. You actually smile as if this is some lighthearted matter. Of course you knew it wasn't the same. You presented no danger to him whereas if he'd nicked you an inch to the left, he might be talking to your headstone right now instead of you. That wasn't the point though.

He shakes his head. "It's different, bub. But I'm not even saying you should hate me..." 

In truth, he didn't know what he was saying. If he wanted you to hate him or stay away from him, he could be the one to break things off. But he was still right here, arms wrapped around you and head hovering inches away from your body.

"I just think you should be more cautious than you're being," he finishes, "I don't want you to think you have to put up with this."

You frown and pet his hair. "I don't think that."

"I'm not trying to lecture you, baby," he sighs, "I just don't want to hurt you again."

He could certainly flaunt a pair of puppy eyes when he wanted to. The way he was looking up at you now made him seem so sad and wounded. Like a dog who can't control when he bites but gets kicked aside for it all the same.

"You're not going to. We'll be careful. It was an accident," you say, tone almost pleading, "You're still my Logan."

To go along with your words, you pull on one of his arms, beckoning him closer. He complies with your request and scales your body so that the two of you are aligned. You stare up into his eyes and the whirlpools of emotion within them. Your hand lands on his cheek, your thumb stroking back and forth in small swipes.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away cause of this," you whisper, "It wasn't your fault. You don't choose to have those dreams."

You can tell he wants to argue, but he struggles to find the words. Indirectly cutting him off, you guide his head closer to yours. His face slots against the crook of your neck, and yours does the same in his. You nuzzle him there, breathing in the rich, musky scent of him.

"You're not wrong for wanting to be happy. You don't deserve to be alone," you say and kiss below his ear.

The words make him ache from within. His metal bones vibrate with the weight of possibility of that being true while his heartbeat feels as though it stutters between his ribs. He wants to huff and say that he knows, that he doesn't need you psychoanalyzing him, thank you very much. But none of that will come out. So instead he chuckles. He tries to make it sound smooth; although, the awkwardness is apparent in each bit.

He pulls back a little and smirks down at you. "So you think I'm cut out for being gentle? Is that it?"

You know what he's doing. As closed off as he tries to be, you don't need telepathy to sense what he's feeling. You let him play it off with a joke though. If he's joking, he's not drowning in self-pity, which is all you want.

"Mhm, I know you are," you say and nose at his cheek, kissing the spot on it without facial hair, "You may have claws, but you purr like a kitten when I have my hands on you."

His eyes roll when you say that. He leans down and begins to return some of your loving gestures.

"Don't go telling people that. It's only for you," he murmurs.

"Of course, of course," you say with the same subtle playfulness.

Words die out in favor of using your mouths for better things. The kisses are lazy, built more off of love and adoration rather than lust and passion. One of your arms loops over his shoulders to keep him close while your other rubs at his side. The tip of his nose brushes your earlobe as he lowers to kiss down your throat.

His lips meet your pulse point and the divots in your neck that make you shudder when touched. He's familiar with all your secret spots by now. He plays you better than any instrument. His breath fans over your skin as his teeth scrape against the same flesh. His hands work below, squeezing your waist, fingertips leaving little bumps in their wake.

The hand of yours that had been on his side drifts further down and wiggles its way between your two bodies. Your digits stroke his pelvis above the area his cock would soon begin to harden.

A groan reverberates through his chest as his shaft rises to attention. From this angle, the pads of your fingers can reach the tip. You rub on it with light pressure, up and down. That gets him to repeat the groan, only this time the undertone of need is more prominent.

His lips latch onto your neck to work a little mark onto your skin while he pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down his thighs. You were only wearing a cropped t-shirt and panties, already easily accessible.

He nudges your thighs apart further and grinds his bulge over your mound. The heat from both your aching centers grows hotter with the friction. Arching your back off the bed, you whimper softly for further satisfaction. He presses you back down using his larger stature.

"Patience, sweetheart. Being gentle, remember?"

He only teases you with a few more grinds of his hips before his boxers vanish too and his heavy cock rests against the soft fabric of your panties. You feel the familiar thickness at first. Then his fingers swoop down and pull your panties to the side so he can slot the drippy tip against your folds. Precum smears against your slick, velvety skin.

Seconds later he splits you open. He bites his lip while you whine, his fat cock pushing further into your wanting hole. You squeeze around him. Your walls clamp and contract on his length. It doesn't push him out, merely sucks him further in. He chokes out a low moan from how tight you get.

So tight and so wet. Arousal oozes from you in no short supply. It didn't take much to get you going for Logan. A few touches alone had you leaking like a broken faucet. You whimper as he bottoms out, hips jerking as the head taps your cervix. He always gets so deep it's nearly unbearable. Even when he's going slow like he is now, he's all you can think of. He fills you up down there and occupies all the space in your head.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks.

You nod, unable to respond verbally as you adjust to the intrusion. 

He doesn't give you a prolonged period of time to adapt right now. Normally he would, but most other times, he'd be going much faster than he plans to at this moment. Typically, he'd let you get comfy with the stretch before drawing his hips back and then pumping them forward again. He'd slam in and out of you. It'd be loud with the sound of skin clapping combined with your moans and his growls. It'd be rough and quick. The bed would shake and bobble around with the force of him.

But tonight, none of that happens. He barely even pulls out to thrust. He stays nice and deep, grinding his hips rather than fucking himself in and out of you. You whine in sweet stretches of sound. He sighs and grunts against your neck. Neither of you sound like feral animals going into heat.

You loved when you fucked like that, but right now, both of you needed this. Each roll of his hips felt like a stroke of heaven brushing your insides. Your limbs curl around him tighter to keep him close. Your arms guard his neck while your legs dig into his hips. He's so lost in the feeling of you, he can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

"Tell me how it feels. Need to hear you. Wanna know I'm doing it how you need," he mumbles.

"Feels perfect," you whimper in return, "So fuckin' deep."

"Good. I only ever wanna make you feel good."

You nod, knowing it's the truth. "Anyone can hurt me, but only you know how to make me feel like this."

His eyes scrunch up at your words. He just feels lucky he has his face buried against your skin so you can't see. It had been just what he needed to hear. Boosting himself onto his knees a bit more to gain some leverage, he grips your hips and ruts against you with the slightest bit more force.

You whine at the soothing rhythm in which your bodies rock. The sense of satisfaction brought on from this took root in the deepest pit of your belly. You weren't gonna explode like you often did. Probably wouldn't scream or scratch up his back. But you could tell you were gonna cum hard.

Without saying it, he communicates he feels the same. His lack of usual dirty talk tells you everything you need to know. His cock stays nestled deep inside your pussy as he works you both to the edge. His face remains flush against your neck.

You cum first, and he follows right behind. You tighten up, toes curling and a high mewl echoing out of your throat. Your body shivers. He spills his release inside of you, his energy leaving with the sticky ropes of cum that fire.

He goes boneless on top of you, still cherishing the feeling of your skin on his. His breaths feel cool against your sweating skin.

"My baby," he sighs. His eyes flutter shut. He knows he has to pull out before he knocks out for a while, but he can do that in a second. He just needs a few more minutes of this.

You press a few kisses to the side of his head and rub his back. His hand slides between both your abdomen to touch the scars, reminding himself what he's capable of despite his current tenderness.

After a few moments, he pulls out and slumps to the side of you. You peck his lips and take the acquisition of space as a way to cool off. His eyes are drooping already. It feels good seeing him so relaxed. You kiss the space between his brows, then the bridge of his knows, and end on his lips.

"Sweet dreams," you whisper, wishing that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay. At least for tonight.

[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[uzurakis]

NEARLY C★UGHT IN THE ACT!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. itadori yuuji. gojo satoru. geto suguru. (characters are all aged up)

NSFW MDNI. fuck! ya almost got caught screwing . .

n. been in the drafts for way too long.. cz i needa clear my reqs but idc! i’ve been wanting to write this for the longest time. enjoy my lovelies <3

GOJO SATORU. “s-shit, how much i’ve missed this view,” gojo was sitting in his office desk, slighty pulling your hair to guide you to the rhythm he wanted. you felt yourself melting into him with his warm shaft in your mouth, ever soo big and too much for you, bobbing your head up and down.

just then, a sharp knock echoed through the room, startling you both. your heart raced as you instinctively tried to pull back from gojo. “s-satoru, we—“ his hand gripped your scalp more firmly than before, making you swallow his shaft until it hit the back of your throat. in other words, he didn’t fucking care. “just do your job, darling. and relax, they won’t come in.”

“even if they do come in, we’ll just say we were having a very hands-on discussion.”

GETO SUGURU. “i’m sorry, princess,” he whispered beside your ear as he hit you raw from behind, both pressed against each other in the dim light of a public restroom. his hands gently putting your hair to the side, “i just, ngh, need you so badly,” whilst his lips found yours again, silencing any further protest.

the sound of footsteps outside the door made you freeze, heart pounding in your chest as the door handle rattled. “someone’s out t-there,” you tried to say as you held back the moans. yet not only your heart was pounding like crazy, it seemed your boyfriend was also still pounding your walls despite the chance you two will get caught screwing in public.

“j-just a little longer,” he pleaded as the groans left his lips again. “i can’t get enough of you.”

ITADORI YUUJI. watching movies together was the original plan, until itadori’s cock twitched because you were sitting on his lap. your ass brushed against his bulge and that’s it. he couldn’t hold it any longer.

a split second later his boxers are on the floor, your panties pushed aside as he rocked your waist front and back. better than the movies, he thought, “i’m havin’ a nice view, baby.” you circled your hands on his shoulders when suddenly you heard a knock on the door. “shit,” itadori murmured as he panicked, slowing down the pace a bit. “i’ll handle this.”

“uh, 10 minutes! don’t come in!” he shouted deafeningly, you were certain that if the person still opened the door, they must have hearing problems to miss that loud shout. “see? problem solved. now, where were we?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. with a frustrated groan, he hovered above you, laying your leg on one of his shoulders and pumping two digits in and out of your hole while he ran a hand through his hair. “why did you have to sneak in here? tsk,” a groan fell from his mouth, “you’re going to get us caught one of these days,” he grumbled, but his fingers playing around your pussy said otherwise.

“because i—ah,” you were the one squirming under his touch, “i-i wanted to be with you—“

“fushiguroo, are you there?” came the voice from the other side of the door. megumi sighed, his expression quickly shifting to one of annoyance. “busy!” he called out, forcing his other fingers over your throat to stop you from making any noise, and tried to keep his voice steady while fucking your insides. “idiot, just keep quiet, okay?”

@uzurakis

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[slvttyplum]

after getting into a heated argument with suguru and wanting to make him jealous, you posted the most suggestive pictures, he and it worked like a charm.

no texts, no calls; just post on post, and suguru gets angrier by the second. his hand is gripping the phone so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

he couldn’t give in, though; he knew what you were trying to do, and he wasn’t having it; he was just going to watch from the sidelines and let it die over—that was until you blocked him.

you saw that he was lurking on your stories and watching everything you did, so you stopped that shit real quick, blocking his ass.

that’s when suguru has smoke blowing from his ears and couldn’t deal with it anymore, throwing his phone down and driving to your house.

banging on the door and rattling the doorknob, you walk to your door with nothing but shorts and a cami top.

suguru wastes no time throwing you over his shoulder, closes the door, and walks to your room, throwing you on the bed.

a smirk on your face the whole time his hands were roaming your body, this is exactly what you wanted. you wanted him to break so that he could fuck that attitude out of you.

“what’s going on? hm? why are you posting that shit?” his hands tugging on your shorts, throwing them beside the bed, and doing the same to your panties.

“you tell me.” and that threw him over the edge, taking your legs and turning you over to your stomach, taking his hands and putting one hand on your stomach and the other on your hips, pressing his bulge onto your ass.

“you wanna act like a slut? i’m going to treat you like one.” and that’s exactly what he did, pulling down his sweats and briefs, lining himself up with your entrance, and wasting no

time to slam into you.

a yelp from your mouth quickly turning into a moan as your back arches, his dick already finding your sweet spot, your thighs going weak.

“uhn, uhn, keep your position.” his hand that was previously on your stomach is going up to the arch of your back and pressing into it as he slams into you again.

another moan sliding past your lips as you feel him stretch your arm walls out. not expecting it to feel this overwhelming so fast. you reach your arm back to push him back, but he takes your wrist, then reaches down to grab your other one, pulling them back and pushing into you.

“fuck suguru! i can’t.” your voice is whiny as your back arches from the overwhelming amount of pleasure pouring down on you.

he pulls your arm back more as he slams into you again, but this time harder. you can feel the tip of his dick kissing your sweet spot each time.

“get louder if you really want me to stop.” letting go of your wrist and placing his hands on your ass, gripping your flesh.

each thrust getting harder and faster, so your voice erupts into high volume as you repeatedly moan, mumbling to yourself.

“please, baby, i can’t.” a low laugh coming from his mouth as he raises his hand off your ass and comes back down to place a hard slap.

the slap makes your back arch more, and that’s when you feel his tip press into your sweet spot like never before, your walls clenching around his length and your body jolting.

a long moan sliding out of your mouth, and your eyes squinting. suguru quickly pulled out and took his hand off your ass and put it around his dick, teasing your folds as fluids came out.

“ohhhh look at that.” your voice is going quiet from how exhausted you were already, and suguru is hunching over you and placing a kiss on your cheek.

“i’m not done.”

[gghostwriter]

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face. 

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.” 

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.” 

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.” 

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?” 

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?” 

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice. 

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?” 

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.” 

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.” 

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?” 

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater. 

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?” 

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk. 

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation. 

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?” 

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed. 

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth. 

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.” 

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory. 

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up. 

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who. 

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.” 

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?” 

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them. 

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language. 

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst 

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?” 

“What? No! No, of course not!” 

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow. 

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend. 

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue. 

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course. 

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down. 

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking? 

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time. 

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk. 

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered. 

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement. 

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with. 

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.  

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance. 

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest. 

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.” 

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

[rowarn]

TAKING WHAT YOU NEED (m.)

tags: afab!reader, no prns, a smidgen of hurt/comfort, soft!simon as usual, established relationship

cw: wet&messy, masturbation(reader), multiple orgasms, riding him<3, u pin him down and he lets u, creampie, simons uncut bc i said so, tiny praise, overstimulation

note: i wrote this against my will it was supposed to be simon bein lazy and making u ride him and do the work and it turned into a sickening beast. please enjoy it. MDNI!

; in which ur terribly horny and neglected for simon but hes so busy and tired u have no choice but to take what u need &lt;/3

3.5k words

he's been so busy lately, almost distant without meaning to. you still get the sweet little bits of affection he always gives; a kiss to your forehead, and soft hand on your back when he passes behind you in the kitchen, your hand wrapped in his while u watch tv late at night, his hand petting your hair as you lay against his chest in bed.

but you want more, you're greedy.

it's been days since he last touched you. you're not used to the dry spells, simon always willing and ready to fuck u stupid into the mattress until u cant keep your eyes open anymore.

ur fingers simply could never compare to his. he's a man who studied your body, spent the better part at the beginning of your relationship playing with you and learning what exactly made you cum the hardest and easiest -- what your favorite spots and positions were. ur fingers tired quickly, leaving you with an orgasm u knew would be better if simon was the one with his fingers buried in your pussy

what did he expect you to do, honestly? when he came out of the shower with his towel low on his hips? his back to you as he rifled through his drawers looking for something comfy to sleep in, his back muscles flexing with the movement? were you just supposed to be able to roll over and sleep, go take a shower and act as if your panties weren't sticking to you from looking at him?

you wanted him so badly that it actually brought tears to your eyes. you didn't care how silly it was; you wanted him so bad it hurt.

"si..." you whimper, unable to stop how your voice wobbled when you spoke.

his head snaps back to look over his shoulder, brown eyes wide in concern. he briskly walked to the edge of the bed where you crawled to, sitting on your knees looking up at him pitifully.

"what is it, love? what's wrong?" his eyebrows were furrowed as he cupped your cheek, thumbing over the soft skin as his eyes analyzed every inch of you for signs of injury -- a little habit he always had.

"wan' you," you whine, placing your hands flat on his chest, moving down over his stomach where his abs flexed under the ticklish touch.

he scoffs, rolling his eyes before batting your hands away, "thought you were actually upset."

he sounds a little miffed, turning his back to you again to pull out the pair of sweats he had been eyeballing. he lets his towel fall and pauses when he hears you actually whine.

he says your name low in his chest, a warning. whether he actually wants you to stop because he's not in the mood or he just doesn't want to get started with it, you don't know. but it makes you pout a little, flopping back in the bed with a huff.

you hear simon shuffling about, getting changed into the sweats before turning off all the lights, save for a little nightlight you keep on beside you until you're ready to sleep -- on the dimmer side so it doesn't bother simon while he sleeps.

he crawls into bed with a sigh, leaning over where you're still pouting into the pillows to kiss your temple.

"i'm just tired, love," he coos, no malice or annoyance to be found in his voice. his hand comes up to rub your back and you fucking whine again, making him pause, "pouting like this is a little pathetic."

he's teasing you, you can hear the huff of a laugh under his voice. tears prick your eyes again and you petulantly push his hands away to sit up. he's leaning back against the headboard, staring straight at you.

"it's not my fault you've been neglecting me!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest.

he actually throws his head back and laughs, "neglecting you? 'cause i haven't given you dick in a few days?"

"it's been more than a few days!" you spit back. although he's taking your bratty behavior in stride, you're actually a little annoyed.

he rolls his eyes and holds back a yawn, "you'll live. just...use that little vibrator you've got, it'll get the job done."

he goes to roll over and go to sleep but you make a noise that doesn't sound like your usual pouting -- it sounds actually upset. it pauses him in his tracks and he looks at you through the dim lighting.

"it's not just that," you mumble, flopping forward to smush your cheek against his chest, "i wanna have sex because i like being close to you, si...of course it feels amazing but i like being connected with you like that....'cause i love you."

he's still for a moment before his hand finds purchase on your back, softly rubbing against you in slow circles. he hums in his chest and kisses the crown of your head.

"'m sorry, love," he coos, "didn't think about that."

"it's okay..." you mutter before sobering up and sitting up to smile at him, "u get some sleep, i'm gonna go...take a shower."

he watches you crawl out of bed and root through your drawer, pulling out that vibrator he just mentioned and slink into the bathroom. it makes his heart ache a little but he slowly lies back against his pillow. his eyelids grow heavy as he lays there and before he knows it, he falls asleep.

he wakes again when you crawl back into bed, the smell of soap still fresh and wafting off of you. you keep your back to him as you curl into yourself in that cute little way that you do. it makes him drowsily smile to himself before he closes his eyes again.

but he can't fall asleep. you begin shifting and fidgeting almost as soon as he settles, it keeps him awake. he wonders what the problem is but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

you roll onto your back and he hears you sigh to yourself. his eyes crack open and he sees you staring at the ceiling. you glance over at him, not seeing the way his eyes are ever so slightly open.

he watches you slowly spread your thighs and your hand slide under the blanket, watches the way your brows furrow as you begin to slowly work at yourself.

his cock twitches in his pants; as tired as he is, no man would be able to sit there like nothing was happening while watching the one he adored touch themself.

he watches you, vaguely hears the wet, sticky noises of you touching yourself. he wonders if you're just working your clit in tiny little circles or if you've maybe stuffed a finger or two inside to get the feeling of being stretched. his cock hardens even further against his thigh and the sleepiness he felt begins to melt away but he can't bring himself to fully open his heavy lids.

after a few minutes, you make a frustrated little huff and pull your hand out from under the blanket, using a tissue on your night table to wipe your fingers off before flopping back into bed. you don't make another move to touch yourself, instead stare into the very dimly lit room in what he can fully understand is frustration. he even hears your sniffle a little bit.

his heart gives a painful little tug. he watches you close your eyes and obviously attempt to fall asleep. his own cock is throbbing by now and he's sure you're uncomfortably wet.

"got a problem, love?" he asks softly, voice thick and heavy with sleep.

he sees you jump and your eyes snap open before you look at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. how cute, he thinks.

"si?" you whisper, "did i wake you? i'm sorry..."

he can actually hear the guilt in your voice as you apologize, "all your tossin' and turnin', not a man in the world woulda been able to sleep through it," you look even guiltier and he reaches out to place his hand over yours that's on your stomach above the blanket, "thought you went and took a shower to take care of that problem?"

you look almost defeated and shrug, then a look of embarrassment crosses your face and he feels the need to click his tongue and tell you none of that, but you speak before he can, "couldn't um...you know...finish..."

he's quiet when you say that. he could tell, obviously. the way you pulled your hand out of your panties and nearly cried in frustration. he huffs through his nose in a noise you mistake for annoyance and give him a sheepish, half-hearted smile.

"sorry, si," you mutter, leaning over to kiss his nose, "i'll be still so go back to sleep, 'kay?"

he watches you lean over and flick the switch to your little nightlight, plunging the bedroom into complete darkness at last. he feels you shift one last time and then nothing.

he should simply go to sleep, he needs sleep. he's got a busy day ahead of him, like always. his hard on is starting to flag from watching the sad little display of you so embarrassed and disheartened. he could easily close his eyes and drift off, get his precious z's in.

but he just can't. knowing that you're going to sleep with sticky panties and completely unsatisfied because you can't seem to make yourself cum despite how badly he knows you need it.

he sits up and leans over you, hearing you make a confused little noise before he flicks the dim little light back on. you're staring at him in confusion but he doesn't offer any answers as he grabs your arm and hoists you out of the blanket you'd nestled yourself under. you let him manhandle you until you're sitting on his lap with him laid back in his pillows still.

"let's get this off you, love," he mutters, hands sliding up the t-shirt of his that you wore.

you make another confused noise but let him strip the fabric off of you anyway, "si..? what are you doing?"

"what do you think?" he asks, shoving the blankets away from him and haphazardly tugging the band of his sweats down so his half-hard cock is freed.

"y-you should be sleeping, si, really--" he interrupts you by forcing you to stand on your knees so he can tug your panties down and off.

you're so wet that there’s a mess of stickiness that clings to the fabric, making little strings that break when he pulls them down all the way.

"fuckin' hell, love," he whispers, his cock quickly hardening completely once again against his stomach, "you were plannin' to sleep while you were this fuckin' wet?"

you look sheepish again, "w-what else was i supposed to do..?"

he grits his teeth because he knows you're right; he hadn't exactly done anything except brush you off and tell you to deal with it yourself. it wasn't like he gave you the green light to ask him for help.

"sorry, love," he whispers, cupping the back of your head to tug you down for a kiss, "shouldn't 'ave been such an ass."

"wha-?" you shake your head, "you weren't, si. you were tired and i was just bein’ too needy."

he huffs out of his nose and grabs your hips, shifting so you sit directly on top of his heavy cock. your eyes roll back a little at the feeling of his hot length against your sensitive cunt.

"nah, was bein' selfish," he mutters, "knew you wanted it 'nd i chose to sleep. you even told me you just wanted to be close with me and i shrugged it off. i've missed you too, love, you know?"

"really?" you ask softly and his heart gives that painful throb in his chest again. had you doubted him? that didn't sit right with him.

"course..." he whispers, biting his lip. he wasn't used to being vulnerable and open with his feelings, so being put on the spot while telling you how he missed you made an uncomfortable feeling stir in his chest.

quickly understanding this, you shift against his cock, grinding your hips back and forth in smooth, slow motions. it makes his head sink back into the pillow; you're so wet that you slide effortless against him, covering him in a coat of slick juices. your motions also make his foreskin slide along his length as well, making him twitch every time the leaky head is stroked.

"fuckin' hell..." he groans through gritted teeth, "c'mon love, you do the work, yeah?"

you desperately nod your head and stand on your knees, gripping his cock to line him up with your entrance. he stops you for a moment with a hand on your wrist, a little glare in his eyes.

"you need prep?" he asks, a sweet little question that makes your heart melt despite yourself.

simon was a lot to take, thick and long. he always bumped against your back wall before he even fully bottomed out. the stretch was a sting that always made you both pause until it went away lest it hurt too much to continue.

you shake your head, "i-i used the toy and my fingers...earlier..." you remind him.

his grip on your wrist slackens at that and you take the chance to slowly and carefully sink down on him, jaw dropping open at the feeling of being stretched so fully by him after however many days.

you're greedy and needy, not even pausing as you quickly descend and take more and more of him in. it's faster than you usually handle it and he moves quickly to grab your hips and stop you, intent on making you take a second to adjust before taking all of him that you can.

you make a strangled noise akin to a sob in your chest and look at him with angry little tears in your eyes. the sight makes him pause and his cock twitch.

you slap his hands away harshly and continue taking all of him despite his apparent protests. he's taken aback by the little show of aggression.

"shit, love," he growls, brows furrowed, "is that how it is then?"

you nod your head and let your eyes roll back. it wasn't very often that you got to ride him, simon was more of a 'do all the work' type of man but this position definitely allowed you to take more of him than you usually could when he had you folded up into whatever positions he wanted.

once you took him as deep as you could, your hand flew down to your clit and with a few little circles and slow grinds of your hips, you were clamping down around him and cumming with a cute little squeal and a gasp.

he felt you soak him with your cum, his eyes locked onto where he was buried deep inside you. when you pulled up, he could see the creamy ring of cum around the base of him.

his head slammed back against the bed as he gripped your hips, your hands on his flexed forearms for support as you began to fuck yourself on his cock with a vigor he hadn't ever seen from you.

you hadn't ever been this needy before. seeing you fucking yourself completely stupid on his cock, only moans and sobs of his name to be heard besides the underlying squish of your cunt being stretched and stuffed.

"fuck!" he groaned, feeling the way your pussy clutched and pulsed around him as you angled your hips just right to hit that tender little spot that made you gush messily around him.

you once again slap his hands away from your hips. he glares at you, preparing to scold you for being such a brat but then you do something that shocks the words right out of him.

you grab his wrists and pin them beside his head on the pillow, using the grip as leverage to really begin fucking yourself back onto his cock. his jaw falls open, little moans and gasps escaping his throat as he watches you work yourself to another peak.

your tits bounce from the way you fuck yourself back on him and he wishes he could reach up and cup them, pinch and roll your hard nipples just the way you like. but he doesn't want to break this little hold you have on him, pinning him down like you think you're in charge. it's cute, really, the little show you're putting on.

it's clear he's denied you so much this whole time that you've simply snapped and now you're determined to get your fill until you've orgasmed so much that your little brain just melts. and he's more than happy to be there, not even lifting a finger and merely being a nice, hard cock for you to cream all over.

he has to admit, it's alluring to see his sweet little love acting so desperate.

he doesn't know how many orgasms you work out of yourself, but it's enough to have covered his cock and thighs thoroughly in your cum. he doesn't mind. you've always been quite a bit messy when he made you cum. but you've never came this hard and this much before. he's not even sure you're giving yourself a chance to come down from one high before you've worked yourself into another.

he's speechless, content to just lay back and watch the desperate show you've put on for him until your movements finally begin to slow.

you go from bouncing on him and pinning him down to grinding against him and cupping your own tits. your body is covered in a sheen of sweat from the workout and he's sure your thighs are fucking burning by now. you're panting and your eyes are half lidded as you stare down at him.

for the first time in a long time, simon feels...small. you had just fucked yourself better than he ever had using his own cock. the thought of that made him twitch inside you and he sees the corner of your lip twitch up and you smile at him. the heady, frustrated, desperate look in your eyes fades and you look so satisfied. the weight that he hadn't realized had been on your shoulders is gone and you lean down.

he tilts his head up and meets your lips in a kiss. your tits squish against his chest and he finally moves his hands from the position you'd pinned him in earlier and he smooths his palms down the length of your back, making you shudder.

"gonna let me cum now, love?" he asks breathlessly.

when you nod, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back, simon pins your legs open with a rough grip under your thighs and begins working his hips.

it's clear you're painfully sensitive; your clit is swollen and tender, your whole body twitching when he meanly presses his roughened thumb against it. your hands once again find purchase on your tits and you squeeze and tug at your nipples.

he fucks you at a leisurely pace, listening to the filthy, clicking noises coming from the complete mess that you've made of your cunt. your eyes roll back and he rolls your tender little bud under his thumb until you seize up in one final orgasm that makes you kick your feet out helplessly.

“there it is…” he coaxes, tossing his head back to moan when you tighten like a vice around him, “so good f’me. that’s it, ride it out, little love.”

you've no choice but the ride out this final, painful orgasm on his cock as he fucks you through it to his own end. he spills inside you, pumping his hips a few more times, watching his own cum mix with the mess of your own that oozes and drools out of your gooey little cunt.

you flop against the bed when he pulls out, both of you panting and you trembling from the overstimulation.

he flops down onto his side of the bed with a sigh, eyes finally growing heavy once again as his exhaustion catches up with him alarmingly fast.

usually, he would clean you up and fix the mess you both left behind but he just truly can't bring himself to even consider getting out of bed. so he tugs you against him, listening to you whimper when more cum drools out of you from the way you involuntarily clench from the continued aftershocks of your numerous orgasms.

he hums and holds you close, dragging the blanket from the foot of the bed over both of you, kissing your forehead before tucking your head against his chest.

he would deal with the aftermath of the night tomorrow, when you both have clear heads. though, he's sure you're going to be sore. he can't wait to see it, he muses.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ Guilty as sin ✦ 」

[Theodore Nott × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]

Summary:(Request) Theo x f!reader where she is a huuuuuge flirt. Flirts with the whole slytherin gang, the golden trio, literally everyone EXCEPT Theo and it doesn’t bother him until his friends start teasing him about it and then it drives him CRAZY. So he tracks her down and she’s all blushy like “idk how to flirt with someone I actually like??” And then smut ensues

Warning: smut

Words:3.5k

Laughter echoed through the empty corridor – a welcome reprieve from the usual bustle of Hogwarts life. We were on a glorious post-lunch break, a rare moment where none of us had classes.

Draco, ever the stoic one, smirked from the corner, a hint of amusement flickering in his grey eyes. Blaise, reclining against the wall along with mattheo and Enzo .

“So, what’s got you all so chipper today?” I asked, leaning against the wall opposite them, my eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Oh, just the usual,” Mattheo replied with a grin, his eyes scanning me up and down. “Though your presence certainly brightens things up.”

I laughed, a playful glint in my eye. “Is that so, Mattheo? I’m flattered.”

“Flattered, are you?” Enzo chimed in, his smile broadening. “Just wait till you hear what Draco’s been saying about you.”

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile playing at his lips. “Don’t drag me into this, Enzo.”

I arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Oh? And what exactly has Draco been saying?”

Draco finally looked directly at me, his smirk deepening. “Nothing that wouldn’t make you blush, I’m sure.”

Suddenly, the air shimmered and Theo materialized beside me, a frown etched on his handsome face. My laughter died in my throat, replaced by a nervous flutter in my stomach.

Don't get me wrong, Theo was so attractive. Tall, dark, and mysterious, he exuded an aura that drew you in like a moth to a flame. That’s why I always act that awkward whenever he show up.

"Hey, Y/L/N," Theo greeted me, his voice a low rumble. "Having fun?"

But before I could respond, a mischievous glint sparked in Blaise's eyes. "Having fun? She's practically rolling on the floor here! Just look at her," he nudged me with his elbow, "completely smitten with my hilarious story."

My cheeks burned. "Oh, shut up, Zabini," I swatted him playfully. "It was Enzo's joke that was funny, not yours."

Enzo chuckled. "Thanks, Y/N."

We all fell into a comfortable banter again, the conversation flowing like a well-worn path. But with every witty remark aimed at me, every playful touch from Blaise or Enzo, I found myself subtly shifting away from Theo. It wasn't intentional, not really. Maybe a subconscious defense mechanism, a way to keep myself safe from the intensity I sensed in him.

Finally, unable to handle the mounting tension any longer, I blurted, "Oh, well, this has been lovely, but I actually have to…" My voice trailed off, searching for a believable excuse.

"Potions homework?" Blaise offered with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, yes," I stammered, "Look at the time! I completely forgot, I have to—"

"Go?" Mattheo finished my sentence with a playful grin, his eyes flickering between me and Theo. "That seems to be your usual line whenever Nott graces us with his presence."

A collective laugh went up from the others, but a blush crept up my cheeks. Was it that obvious?

"See, Theo? That's just how Y/N is. Always gotta disappear when you show up."

Behind me, I could hear the eruption of laughter. Draco's voice rang out, “See ? Always leaving when you appear Nott, gets the charm offensive."

I winced, a mixture of guilt washing over me, I grabbed my bag and walked away.

As I walked to the class the next day my stomach lurched, I scanned the room. Every single seat was taken except for one – the one directly next to Theo. A wave of annoyance washed over me. Why did I have to be the one stuck beside him after yesterday's awkward retreat?

With a resigned sigh, I marched towards the empty chair, determined to keep our interaction to a minimum. Just as I sat down, the classroom door slammed open, and Professor Snape strode in with his usual scowl.

"Settle down!" his baritone voice boomed. "Since we're already behind, we'll be starting immediately. Take out your textbooks and quills, we're brewing Veritaserum today."

My shoulders slumped. Of course, today would be the day Snape insisted on absolute honesty. Great.

I grabbed my textbook with a muttered curse, desperately trying to ignore the heat radiating from beside me. Theo. He was practically close enough to see the worried frown etched on my forehead.

"Rough day, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine despite myself.

I kept my eyes glued to my textbook, pretending to be engrossed in the complicated brewing instructions. "Just fine," I mumbled, my voice a touch too high-pitched.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Do I make you nervous, Y/N?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.

My cheeks burned. Did he have to be so perceptive? "No," I lied unconvincingly, still refusing to meet his gaze.

"Then why the avoidance act?" he pressed.

My cheeks felt like they were on fire. I couldn't take it anymore. Taking a deep breath, I finally looked at him, ready to fire back with a witty retort.

But as our eyes met, something unexpected happened. All the bravado I had practiced in my head evaporated. His gaze held a depth I hadn't noticed before, a hint of something… more.

The stern voice of Professor Snape cut through the sudden tension. "Miss Y/N, Mr. Nott! Pay attention or face detention."

Flustered, I tore my gaze away from Theo.

The moment Professor Snape dismissed the class, I bolted. My cheeks still burned from Theo's teasing, his words replaying in my head like a broken record. "Do I make you nervous?" Ugh, the audacity!

Heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, I weaved through the throng of students, desperate to escape the classroom and the lingering scent of Theo's cologne.

As I rounded a corner, I slammed right into someone, the impact knocking the breath out of me. I stumbled back, muttering an apology.

"Easy there, love. Running from someone?"

My cheeks burned like someone had set them on fire with a dragon's breath. "No, no, of course not," I stammered, my voice tripping over itself. "Just... eager to get to my next class."

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his grey eyes. "Really? Because you look like you just escaped a dragon attack in those robes."

"I-I really have to go," I mumbled again, yanking my arm free from Matteo's grasp.

Before he could say another word, I bolted. I sprinted down the hallway, robes billowing behind me, desperate to put as much distance as possible between me, Theo.

The thoughts I harbored about Theo, well, they were borderline scandalous – even for the often-unconventional wizarding world. Wet dreams were a daily torment, a vivid tapestry woven with stolen glances and the memory of his low chuckle. Even the most mundane tasks became infused with Theo. Daydreams, unwelcome and potent, hijacked my mind, filling it with images of his strong arms wrapped around me, the feel of his warm skin against mine, and those lips... oh Merlin, his lips. The very thought of them sent a jolt through me, leaving me breathless and yearning.

It was a full-blown obsession. Every interaction, every stolen glance, was a spark that ignited a wildfire within me. I envisioned stolen touches, whispered secrets, a clandestine world where it was just us. These "visions," as I'd begun calling them, were both exhilarating and terrifying. Had I lost my mind?

Looking at him was like staring into the sun – an act both beautiful and blinding. I craved his attention, yet recoiled from it in equal measure, afraid of what it might reveal – both about him and the depth of my own desires.

The moment I reached the solitude of my dorm room, I threw myself onto my bed, burying my face in the soft pillow. It was just me and the storm raging within. Seeking a semblance of control, I reached for my most trusted companion – my sketchbook. Flipping to a blank page, I did what had become a nightly ritual: I drew Theo.

His face materialized on the page with practiced ease – the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his eyebrows quirked slightly when he was amused, the intensity of his gaze that seemed to pierce right through me. Each stroke was infused with a longing so deep it ached. As I added the final details, a desperate thought crossed my mind – what if, somehow, magically, drawing him like this would bring him closer? A ridiculous notion, even for a witch like me. But a girl can dream, right?

The drawing complete, I flipped back through the pages, revisiting the countless iterations of Theo that filled my sketchbook. Each one a silent testament to my growing obsession. A pang of guilt stabbed at me as I traced the outline of his lips in one particular sketch. Here I was, feeling like I'd committed a sin, when in reality, our interactions hadn't even reached the stage of a stolen touch.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips. This was madness. Yet, as I drifted off to sleep that night, the sketchbook remained tucked under my pillow, a silent guardian of my unrequited affection.

The next day, the weight of my secret world pressed down on me like a lead blanket.

My usual bubbly demeanor was replaced by a forced smile and a dull ache in my chest. The boys exchanged worried glances, their questions a constant reminder of the truth I couldn't share.

Mumbling an unconvincing excuse about feeling unwell, I escaped the classroom the moment the bell rang, desperate for some fresh air and a moment of solitude.

Once I was finally away from everyone I grabbed my bag, then it happened, panic clawed at my throat as I realized my sketchbook was missing.

I scoured my bag again, desperately searching every compartment, but it was nowhere to be found. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I carried that sketchbook everywhere, afraid of someone stumbling upon my secret world.

Fear morphed into a cold dread as I retraced my steps, hoping it had simply fallen out of my bag somewhere.

The thought of someone, anyone, seeing my drawings, especially Theo… the very notion sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through me.

I retraced my steps, combing through the classroom once more, a desperate hope clinging to the edges of my despair. But it was futile. The sketchbook was nowhere to be found. My mind raced, picturing prying eyes and whispered secrets. This was a disaster.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the rising tide of panic. "Searching for something, Y/L/N?"

I spun around so fast I nearly toppled over, my eyes widening as they landed on Theo. A self-assured smirk played on his lips, and in his hand, he dangled my precious sketchbook.

"Theo!" I gasped, the sound strangled and desperate. My cheeks burned with a mixture of mortification and a strange, exhilarating thrill.

Instead of listening to my frantic plea, he held the sketchbook just out of reach, the amusement in his eyes deepening. "Such beautiful secrets you keep hidden, Love."

The blood drained from my face. "Give it back to me, Theodore," I demanded, my voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in my hands.

He chuckled, a low, beautiful sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Not so fast, love. Perhaps there's something in here that warrants a little… negotiation."

Frustration bubbled up inside me. I lunged for the sketchbook, my fingers brushing against his hand. But he easily outmatched me, holding it high above my head. The height difference was agonizing.

"Give it back!" I hissed, my voice laced with desperation.

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with something I couldn't decipher. Then, before I could react, his other hand shot out, landing firmly on my waist.

A gasp escaped my lips as a jolt of electricity shot through me at his touch. He used the momentum to pull me closer, turning us around so that my back slammed against the cool surface of the empty classroom door my eyes widened when he locked it. My breath hitched in my throat as his warm body pressed against mine.

His face was inches from mine, his breath tickling my ear. "Now," he murmured, his voice a husky rumble that sent a delicious shiver down my spine, "Care to explain what is it about?”

"No "I say "Just give it back!"

Instead of replying, he pulled away, placing the sketchbook on a nearby table with a soft thud. I made a move to grab it, but he was faster. With a single, smooth motion, he used one hand to capture both of mine, pinning them above my head against the cold, unforgiving surface of the door.

His touch sent a jolt through me, a current that both terrified and excited me. His gaze was intense, boring into mine, and suddenly his earlier amusement was replaced by something else entirely.

"So," he said, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine.

"you just decided to ignore my entire existence? The social butterfly with all her friends, suddenly giving me the cold shoulder or vanishing into thin air whenever I'm around. Then I find out you've been drawing me… like a hundred times? Which by the way I'm not complaining about but— ," he added, "but seriously, Y/N, what have I done that you can't bear to stay in the same room with me for a minute?"

His words hit me like a physical blow. Shame burned through me, hot and fierce. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely a choked sob, my eyes desperately seeking the floor.

"Look at me, love," he commanded, a gentle firmness in his voice.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to meet his. His face was unreadable, a mixture of concern and something else – something that made my heart skip a beat.

"Good girl," he murmured, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Now, say it. What have I done to make you hate me that much?"

"It's the opposite," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. The words tumbled out before I could stop them, fueled by a desperate need for him to understand. "I like you, Theo. A lot. Those feelings… they're so intense, so confusing, and I just don't know how to act around you. I see you and I freak out. I can't breathe, my heart races and then those unholy thoes…" My voice cracked, and tears welled up in my eyes.

He leaned closer, his hand brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice gentle, his touch sending sparks dancing across my skin. "Breathe."

I did, taking a shaky breath, closing my eyes as his face came closer. His touch was everywhere – on my cheek, my neck, his warm breath against my lips. "Are you mad?" I whispered, barely audible.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Quite the opposite," he murmured, his lips brushing mine with a feather-light touch. Then, in one swift movement, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was both electrifying and grounding.

His hands gripped my hips, lifting me off the floor effortlessly. I gasped as I looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire burning within them. "You smell so good," he murmured, his lips finding my neck. His stubble tickled my sensitive skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"You know those thoughts you talked about," he continued, placing soft kisses along my jawline. "I have similar thoughts too."

I moaned as he sucked on my earlobe, my head falling back to give him more access. His lips moved down to my neck, his tongue tracing a path along my collarbone.

His hands tightened on my hips, and I could feel his erection pressing against me. I couldn't help but grind against him, feeling his length rub against my clit through our clothes.

"I want to leave marks on your skin, so everyone knows you're mine," Theo growled, his lips moving down to my neck. His tongue traced a path along my collarbone, and I shivered with delight.

"Yours?" I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, baby. Mine. And those fuckers need to know this," he said, I couldn't help but smile. I knew they had been teasing him for how I had been ignoring him.

His lips traced a path along my collarbone, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I shivered with delight as his hand gripped my hair, pulling me to him he looked at my eyes for a second then kissed me. His lips were soft and eager, and I couldn't help but respond.

He turned me around his head on my shoulder "Tell me your deepest fantasy. I'll make it a reality for you,"

His hands went inside my skirt, and I felt his fingers on my thighs. "Can I touch you?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded, my breath hitching in my throat.

“ oh Merlin “ I say my whole body shaking his finger rubbing circles on my clit fast then slow making me losing my mind

“ not Merlin baby me say my name, do i make you feel good ? “ he say in my ear

“ yes Theo oh yes you do “ I say my body still shaking .

"Do you want me to be rough with you, or gentle?" He asked, his finger sliding inside me. I gasped, holding onto his arms for support.

"No one has touched you like this before, baby?" He asked. I shook my head, unable to trust myself to respond without screaming.

"Good, and no one else will," He said, his fingers moving inside me. I felt myself getting closer to the edge, my whole body tensing up.

"I love how you arch your back when I do this. You're so responsive," He said, his fingers moving faster inside me. I screamed, my whole body shaking with pleasure.

He put his hand over my mouth, muffling my cries "Shhh” He said, his voice soothing.

I felt it happening. My whole body shook, and if not for his strong arm around me, I would have fallen. I screamed with his hand still on my mouth. I came for the first time in my life, and oh lord, it felt like heaven.

"You did so good for me, baby. So good."

Put his fingers in his mouth, savoring my taste. "I love the way you taste, the way you smell. You're like a drug to me,".

He picked me up, setting me on the desk. pushed the books and papers aside, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he pulled me to the edge of the desk, his hands on my thighs.

"Is this like your fantasies?".

"No," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "It’s much better."

His lips were on my inner thighs in an instant, his tongue tracing a path up to my panties. He pulled them down, his fingers grazing my skin. My breath came in short gasps.

"Do you want me to use my fingers or my tongue? Or maybe both?"

His tongue found my clit, and I moaned as he licked and sucked, his fingers exploring my wet folds. I grabbed onto the edge of the desk, my legs shaking.

Theo pulled back, his eyes meeting mine. He reached for a pen on the desk, pulling it towards him. wrote "mine" on my inner thigh, his eyes locked on mine.

His fingers slid back inside me. I moaned again, my hips bucking against his hand.

His tongue found my clit once again , and I moaned louder this time. He sucked and licked, his fingers moving inside me in a steady rhythm. I could feel my orgasm building for the second time.

"Oh, Theo," I moaned, my hips bucking against his hand.

He moved his fingers faster, his tongue lashing against my clit. I cried out as my orgasm crashed over me again.

He pulled away, making his way up to kiss me. I was shaking in his arms, but he wrapped them around me, making me feel safe and comfortable.

As I trembled in his arms, He held me close, his embrace warm and comforting. He gently brushed my hair away from my face, kissing my forehead tenderly.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice full of admiration and love.

I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The intensity of the moment began to fade, replaced by a soft, soothing calm. Theo's hands traced gentle circles on my back, his touch reassuring and tender.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern evident in his eyes.

I nodded, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "I'm more than okay. Thank you."

He smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Theo, I need to tell you something,” I said, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

He looked at me with those deep, caring eyes, waiting patiently.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I don’t mean to scare you with it now, but I’ve been holding it to myself for too long and I wanted you to know.”

A smile spread across his face, and he leaned in to kiss me softly, his lips curing my words. “You don’t have to anymore,” he said, his voice a soothing balm to my fears. He looked into my eyes, his expression sincere. “I love you, and I will prove it to you every single day.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, not of sadness, but of overwhelming relief and happiness. “Promise you won’t hurt me?” I asked, my voice small and vulnerable.

“Never, baby,” he said, pulling me closer. “I promise. I will never hurt you. I’ll always be here for you.”

I buried my face in his chest, letting his warmth and words envelop me, my gaze wandered to the ink on my thigh. The word "mine" stood out boldly, a possessive claim that made me giggle despite the seriousness of everything that had just happened.

Theo noticed and raised an eyebrow. "What’s so funny?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

I pointed to the makeshift tattoo. “This. ‘Mine.’ You really went all out, didn’t you?”

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You bet I did. I had to make sure those fuckers know you’re off limits from now on.”

I laughed, “Oh, I’m sure they’ll get the message loud and clear.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[mysicklove]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

DAY 16: PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX

With: Tamaki Amajiki

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sub! Top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag?

A/N: another fic i STRUGGLED with. idk whyyyy.

Tamaki knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows that if anyone ever saw him, he would be deemed a weirdo, a pervert, really. But it was just so hard. 

It's not fair that you left him alone. Its not fair that you made him miss you until his heart ached. It's not fair that you havent touched him in longer than three weeks. Its not fair that he is here, straddling a pillow, while you probably aren't even thinking of him at all.

The whole thing makes him fume red. Humping a pillow was as desperate as it gets. His hand wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needs to move his hips, pretend he is fucking something. It was bound to give him more satisfaction. Or he hoped it did, but it doesnt change the fact that it was embarrassing.

The pillow was soft, but sturdy, and held a bit of stability. It wouldn't crumble against the sheets with each thrust, nor be too feathery to really feel anything. A good pillow – it will work fine.

He wears one of your shirts. An oversized one, that seems to drown him with the fabric. It smelled like you, and he has to refrain from pressing the collar of it against his nose. It would only turn him on more, and thats not what he needed right now.

Tamaki's hands tremble as he adjusts himself. He flips the hem of your shirt upward to give himself a view of his thin cock. Its red, and pulsing, ready for him to begin moving. He brings his hands up to his face, covering it with the back of his palm. “So embarrassing,” He whines into the empty room, but not moving from his position on top of the pillow.

He stables himself, and then very hesitantly drags his hips forward. The bottom of his dick grazes against the pillow and he takes a deep breath. Its soft, slightly cold from the lack of human contact with it, but he doesnt mind warming it up. He grinds himself forward again, his two hands gripping at the front of the pillow to slightly pull it up, giving him more area to brush himself on.

He whimpers, closing his eyes and falling into a steady pace. It's not as pleasurable as he wanted it to be, and it was driving him insane. But he liked the feeling of riding something, and he pretended the pillow was you. The thought spurs him on, and his pace begins to pick up. The movements of his hips are short, quick, and he slightly bounces on it. Tamakis breath becomes short, and he sighs into the open air, throwing his head back and humping whatever surface of the soft fabric he could. 

A couple minutes go by and he was on the verge of crying from frustration. It barely made him feel any better, and he was going to have to be here for awhile if he wanted to cum. He grabs onto your shirt and brings it up to his nose, inhaling your scent and groaning into the fabric. It made him feel a bit better.

Suddenly, he hears the familiar vibrations from his phone. He was getting a call, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to someone. But, he wasn't one to ignore something that could be important. So, he leans forward and flips over the phone. When he sees your name with an abundance of heart emojis that you typed in for your own contant info, his eyes light up.

He inches toward the answer button, but pauses for a second, realizing the position he is in. It was definitely not appropriate to talk to you like this, but he wanted desperately to hear your voice. It was gross and pathetic, but didnt you say you like when he acts pathetic? Besides, you could definitely fix his problem. You know exactly what to do to make him feel good.

So he answers the phone, and waits for you to speak. 

“Hey love,” You hum through his phone, and he almost whines out from that alone. He glances back down at his cock, a glob of precum dripping down pathetically onto the pillow. He covers his face in embarrassment.

“Hi Y/N,” He mumbles into the mic, staring at his fingers, and doing anything he can to ignore his cock. He wants to ask you for help, but how? Even after all this time of being together, he has never voiced his sexual wants and needs. It was just too hard to, and besides you always seemed to find out his desires one way or another.

“Whatcha up to?”

Tamaki pauses. Lying was definitely not one of his specialties, and to you? He was a goner for sure. He goes silent for longer than 30 seconds. “Tamaki?”

“Something I shouldn't be doing,” He whispers, falling forward to rest his cheek on the mattress. He still lays straddling the pillow, but now his cock was trapped between his stomach, and the pillow. 

A slight giggle comes from the phone, and he gulps, ignoring the way his dick twitches. “Are you doing something naughty?”

Naughty. Such a childish word, but it was the perfect adjective to describe his situation. It made him feel small, and strangely it brought comfort to him. He nods into the mattress, his hips moving without his permission, and continuing their grinding movements.

“You've gotta speak up for me, love.”

He may be shy, but he would never dare to not listen to a command. “Yes. Sorry.” 

“Yes what?”

He lets out a small whimper, barely audible over the phone. “‘m doing something…naughty.”

The dark haired boy squirms on the bed, listening to the way you inhale sharply. His hands begin to travel downward, but he stops himself before he could start stroking himself off. “What are you doing, love?”

He goes silent for a couple seconds, and he continues to shift around the bed. He gulps and looks down at his leaking cock, and then away. “I’m….I’m humping a…pillow?”

You let out a dramatic, slightly teasing gasp. “So dirty, Tamaki!”

He wants to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment. He knows you are just poking fun at him, but truly everything about this was so humiliating. “I-I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just miss you so much!” He warbles into the mic, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

He was so unbelievably cute, and his plea made your heart throb. “S’alright, relax, love. I miss you so much. So so much,” You reassure, closing your eyes to listen to his breathing. ‘

You hear a sniffle on the other end of the phone. “Why are you crying?”

You expected to hear a response declaring how much he missed seeing you, or having you around. Or maybe how lonely he felt. What you didn't expect was for him to say, “‘m not crying! Im frustrated because I cant cum!”

Tamaki being blunt about his needs was unheard of, and the shock of it made you bark a laugh. He shakes his head into the mattress, but begins his humping again. You already knew at this point what he was doing, and he was already as embarrassed as it gets, so he rather search for more pleasure than wither is his own misery. 

“Well are you doing it right?”

He pauses his movements. Was there a right or wrong way to do it? His horny brain was screaming at him to just get any sort of friction from the white item, but was there a better way to do it? To feel more pleasurable? “I-I dont know…”

“Aren't you pretending that I'm the pillow?” Your words make him yelp, and you hold back a snicker. You were right of course, but the fact that you knew about it made him want to dig himself a hole to hide in.

But nevertheless, his hips havent stopped their movements. Its a slow pace, just enough to make his breaths heavier. “Yeah,” He breathes into the mic, so quite that you almost missed it.

You hum to yourself, hand traveling over your own body to get yourself in the mood. “Then you need a hole to fuck, dont you, pretty boy?”

The statement causes him to lose his breath and he can't think quick enough to find a response. You continue on, “Put two pillows together so that you can get friction on both sides of your pretty little cock. It will feel so much better,” You encourage, and his eyes instantly travel to the extra pillow just inches away from him. He gulps, but grabs onto it, and places it under his lower stomach and on top of his dick.

“N-Now what?”

“It's not rocket science, silly. Fuck it now. But make sure to keep the pillow beneath your stomach, so that the hole is tighter.”

He blushes at his stupid words, but instead focuses on your advice. He pulls out, and then pushes himself back into the two soft cushions. He groans out, and sets the phone on speaker and places it next to his face. This was way better, and he needed to focus.

You hear his breaths get quicker and you smile. “There ya are. Does it feel better, Tamaki?”

He uses his hands to push the pillows together, creating a even smaller hole. But he nods at your words, staring at your profile picture with tears in his eyes. “W-Wish it was you. Not as tight…Warm.”

You hands travel toward your pants at the words. “Yeah? Use your imagination, love. Pretend that's me, what do you want to do with me?”

His whole body caves over on himself, and he bucks his hips frantically. His face is a bright shade of pink, and he wears a wobbly, but content smile. “Wanna—Wanna….You to tell me what to do,” He whines out, fingers dragging along the beds sheets, wishing it was your back.

You snicker at him, not surprised by his words. “You are hopeless, Tamaki. So submissive, its so cute, you know that? You know how cute you are?”

He covers his face with his arm, moaning and whining into the soft skin. “Stop it…” He mumbles half heartedly, loving every drop of praise from your mouth.

“You love it,” You tease, and he secretly nods into the bedsheets, but not daring to tell you. “Alright, let's have you cum, hmm? Can you close your eyes for me?”

His eyes flutter shut before you could even finish your sentence. “‘kay.” 

“Good job,” You murmur, and he gulps, nuzzling his face into the bed, pretending it’s your chest. “Now move your hips for me. In and out, yeah?.”

He doesn’t have to do much, considering that he has been doing this exact same movement for the past couple minutes now. He doesn’t say anything, afraid you may poke fun at him again. “Tamakiiiii,” You purr, “I need to hear a response.”

“Sorry. Yes, yes, I‘m doing it. Promise!” He splutters, trying to maintain a steady pace of breathing. It was feeling so much better with both sides hugging him, but your voice was definitely helping as well.

You let out a breath, and smile. “Good boy. Now, tell me, what are you imagining. Wanna hear the specifics, love.”

He whines at this. He didnt want to expose his thoughts; you would definitely think he was weird. A pervert who cant go a couple weeks without cumming. “Nooooo,” He whimpers, eyes still shut. “So embarrassing.”

Your voice turns commanding in an instant. “Oh? Stop moving then.”

Unwillingly he listens, his body so used to listening to your commands, that he doesn't even process what you said until he stopped his hips. He groans into the sheets, and feels his cock twitch within the pillows. It doesn't want to stop. “Noooo,” He complains once more, hating the way tears begin to build up, and threaten to spill over his closed eyes.

Your heart throbs at the small whimpers he lets out, and your strict tone seems to melt away. “You have to listen if you want to cum, baby. I know its embarrassing, but I want you to feel good. Dont be shy, I won't judge you.”

You hear a sniffle from the other end of the phone. “Okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. C-Can I move now? I'll tell you my…my fantasy.” 

You hum encouragingly at him, and he takes it as a yes, slowly beginning to move his hips again. He sighs at the softness, nodding his head to himself. But, he doesn't get too lost in his pleasure, he has to hold up the end of the bargain. “I-Im pretended the pillow is you.”

You roll your eyes slightly, a grin on your face. He was obviously nervous if he was stating the obvious. “Yeah? Are you fucking me nice and hard?”

Your words are so lewd and he fumes red at them. “U-Um…Yeah. Y-You feel so good.” Referring to the makeshift hole as you, makes him feel slightly bad. He knows you are may more than that to him. But it was obvious that you were trying to initiate some sort of phone sex, and he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Your fingers travel down to your pants, and you finally get comfortable. You begin to touch yourself, trying to imagine yourself into his fantasy. “So deep Tamaki,” You purr, sighing into the mic.

His eyes widen for a split second, but he quickly shuts them again. At your words, he finds himself thrusting himself deeper into the hole, mewling out as pre covers the soft fabric. He finds himself imagining you beneath him, grinning up at him with a flushed out, but cocky grin. 

“Fuck,” He whispers gently to the image of you. “I missed you so much. So so much.”

“Missed you too,” You murmur, throwing your head back slightly. “Doing so well for me.”

His hips stutters at the praise, and he gulps. Whenever you praise him, it sends his head spinning, and he loves it more than anything. “F-For you. Only for you!”

The position he was in was so lewd. His mouth slightly gnawing on his hand, his hips thrusting into two pillows, and his body a bright shade of pink. The bed was even creaking from his intense movements, but he didnt seem to care. “P-Praise me…More, please?”

“You're doing so good. Making me feel so good, Tamaki. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods his head frantically, loving the idea more than anything. To make himself cum was one thing, but making you feel good enough to cum was a whole other thing. It made the service sub in him preen, and his thrusts are more desperate now. He imagines you shivering, and moaning into his neck, maybe even leaving scratch marks down his back. “Yes. Yes, I'll make you cum. I'll make you feel so good, please!”

You smile lazily at the wall. “Such a good boy. I'm so lucky to have such a pretty and obedient boyfriend.”

A wobbly smile is tugging at his face, and he feels like a schoolgirl. Giddy, and nervous around you and your voice. He swears the fantasy becomes more surreal. The pillow seems to be hugging him just how you would, and in the back of his mind he can hear the slapping of skin upon skin. “I love you. I love you so much, you feel so good. I can't hold it much longer!”

“Aw are you going to cum already?” You tease, feeling your own high approaching rapidly.

At the words he lets out a dramatic whine, feeling guilty. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Y-You just…oh god. Feel so good!” He warbles, shaking hands gripping onto the phone. He spreads his legs out wider, finding a new position to thrust his hips. His hair begins to stick to his head, and with every breath, a moan slips past his lips.

You are on the same page, hands moving quicker to hopefully match his high. “Its alright. Im going to cum to. Are you going to cum inside me? Wanna fill me up?”

He heaves at your words, hearts in his eyes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He did desperately. It was way better than pulling out, or cumming into the condom. “Please! Please!”

His moans are high in pitch now, and his pace is sporatic. They are frantic though, and the entire bed shakes with his fierce movements. 

“Good boy. Cum inside me then,” You purr directly into the mic, and his eyes fly open when he cums. He lets out a high pitched scream, and bites his hand to try and stay quite. The boys hips ram into the pillow, and his thoughts are cloudy, thinking about how deep he must be cumming in you. His whole body is shivering in pleasure, and he wears a small smile.

You cum a moment later, shaking and sighing, but not making as much noise as your beloved. You didnt mind, his high pitched moans and screams were cute, you just wished he got over that stupid need to bite his hand whenever he cums. It muffles them way too much for your liking.

Post nut clarity hits Tamaki like a truck and his face turns a bright shade of red. Asking you to praise him, and even begging to cum “inside” you? Humiliating.

“I know what you are thinking, love. Dont be embarrassed. It was fun. Good. What lovers do,” You reassure, knowing his anxiety gets the better of him. 

He takes comfort in your words immediately, slightly nodding to himself and trying to think of something else to hopefully die down the embaressment. He feels exhausted, and instead focuses on that. He pulls out of the pillows with a sigh and brings the phone to his face to begin wishing you goodnight.

His eyes widen when he realizes something, and he lets out a dramatic gasp.

The sound makes you perk up, and you are on immediate alert. “Whats wrong?”

“Oh no. This is bad. What do I do now?” He begins to mumble, eyes scanning across the bed.

“What? What happened?” You question more frantically now, pulling the phone closer to your ear.

It goes silent on the other end for about thirty seconds. He pulls away the two pillows and gulps as his stares at his own product. This was bad. Truly a problem.

“What am I supposed to sleep on tonight?”

It takes everything in you to not hang up on him.

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[evie-sturns]

calm - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a terrible day of arguing with your boyfriend, accidentally breaking your favorite perfume, and now your hair and outfit not going to plan, all your emotions hit you at once and matt has to calm you down.

contains: fluff, crying, arguing, comforting!matt.

----------------------------------------------------------

10:38am

i huff angrily as i tug up my knotty hair into a ponytail, my arms burn while i attempt to tie the elastic around my thick hair. suddenly the elastic snaps, pinging my hand almost in a mocking way.

"oh for fucks sake!" i whine, throwing my fact into my hands as i reach for the hair gel.

i plop more on the top of my head, my hands now sticky and my whole body sweating. i finally get my hair up into a ponytail, but it looks like total shit.

i sigh before stomping out of the bathroom into matt and i's shared room, i swing open the door and ignore matt as i reach for the closet.

matt and i have argued a record amount of times today, it's almost impressive.

flashback:

it was 6 in the morning, and i rolled over onto matt accidentally.

he shoots up in bed as i lay my body weight on his arm, "ow! ow get the fuck off!" he says in a pissy mood, i drift awake slowly as matt shoves me off him.

"matt come on." i groan, grabbing my shoulder from where he just shoved me off of him. "dont say come on like you didn't just break my fucking arm and wake me up at 6am in one sweep."

"i'm not that heavy matt, don't be stupid." i scoff, rolling over in bed to the edge of the mattress, a good meter away from him.

"yes you are, your fully body weight was on my arm." he says with an attitude,

"so you're calling me fat?" i ask angrily,

"dude, just go get out of here." matt demands, pointing towards the door, the nickname stinging a little bit.

"its my room matt, i'll stay right here, not my fault your acting like a child." i raise my voice, slamming my body down onto the mattress and tugging the covers up over me, my back facing matt.

i wasn't expecting matt to leave, but he did. he shot up out of bed and grabbed his pillow, he walked swiftly out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him

and i think that set the mood for the whole day, because now 4 hours have passed and we’ve argued about matt being lazy, me leaving out dishes, him ignoring me, and me apparently being a brat.

-

i sort through our closet, tugging out a small skirt and one of matt's shirt.

"did i say you could borrow that?" matt speaks from the edge of the bed, my head snaps round to look at him.

"stop matt!" i almost yell, which shuts matt up quickly.

i storm back into the bathroom, i hear matt laugh slightly from behind me.

i tear off my pyjamas, and tug up the tiny skirt. as i go to zip up the sides the zipper pops off.

and that will do it.

i erupt into a loud sob, which quickly escalates into floods of tears.

i hear some movement coming from matt and i’s room before the bathroom door swings open, matt takes one look at me and his face drops.

i don’t want to look at him, or for matt to see me like this.

“hey- hey what’s going on sweetheart?” matt says, panic clear in his voice as he reaches for the side of my face.

i shake my head as more and more tears flow down my flushed cheeks.

he wraps his arms around me and i bury my face in the fabric of his shirt.

i let out shaky breaths as i attempt to calm myself down, my body shaking in matt’s arms.

“come- come to the bedroom.” he whispers into my hair before picking me up by my ass.

i nod as i bury my face into his shoulder, matt carries me into our air conditioned bedroom and plops me down on the edge of the bed.

my legs dangle of the edge of the matress, matt sits down right beside me, the matress shifting under his weight.

he wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to him as i continue to cry.

“what’s going on baby.” matt says softly, rubbing my back.

i crawl over and sit myself down on matt’s lap, straddling him.

he grabs the sides of my face with two hands, his thumbs wiping my tears delicately.

“you- you’re mad at me.” i squeeze out with a loud voice crack

matt’s eyebrows furrow, but i continue to speak “and- and i don’t look good.. like my hair and outfit.” i sniff

matt plants a kiss to my swollen lips, he grabs my chin, making me look at him.

“i would never be mad at you princess, sometimes people fight and that’s okay, but what happened today wasn’t worth fighting for.” matt says while looking into my eyes

“and you look absolutely gorgeous, honestly.” matt says, his eyes gazing over my face.

“i didn’t mean to wake you up this morning- i promise.” i sob, letting my head fall onto matt’s shoulder.

“you know i’m grumpy in the mornings don’t you, it’s not your fault, and i’m so sorry for making you feel like it was.” matt sighs, rubbing my back soothingly.

i sit on his lap in silence for a couple minutes as i take in sharp breaths.

i feel matts chest rise and fall against mine, i attempt to copy his breathing.

“my skirt broke earlier.” i say lightly, lifting my face away from matt’s shoulder.

“did it?” matt asks, his head tilting down as his long fingers inspect my skirt.

i nod, pointing to the broken zip. “i’ll get you another one tomorrow, how about that?” he speaks with a small smile.

“you don’t have to do that.” i breathe, “i’m gonna do it anyway as an apology for how i acted today.” he protests.

“let’s get you out of that skirt then if it’s broken.” matt suggests, picking me up again and walking me over the the closet.

he pulls out a pair of his sweatpants and brings me back over to the bed, matt places me down on the edge of the bed and bends down.

his hands tug down the hem of my skirt, pulling it down my thighs.

he purses his lips out of concentration before tugging the sweatpants up my legs.

he stands back up “you want your hair out?” he asks,

“it’s gonna be crunchy if i take it out, because of the amount of gel i put in.. but it’s also tugging on my scalp like crazy.”

“i’ll wash your hair later for you.” matt smiles, he’s always loved washing my hair for some reason.

i wipe my face, flustered by his words.

“do you want some water?” he asks, i rub my puffy eyes with a nod.

he walks over to me and grabs my hand, tugging me up off the bed. matt walks me out of our room into the corridor.

i follow closely behind him as we walk down the corridor into the kitchen.

i stand next to the counter top, matt walks over to me and grabs me under my armpits before lifting me up onto the countertop.

he grabs a cup and fills it up with cold water before walking over to me.

he holds it up to my lips, “and… open.” he says, i open my mouth slightly and matt pours some water into my mouth,

he accidentally pours too much, my cheeks hollowing out as i lock eyes with him.

i let out a loud laugh, spraying the water all over his shirt.

i slam a hand over my mouth as the water leaks down my chin.

“oh- my god.” matt erupts into laughter, both of our laughs filling the room.

“i am so sorry-“ i say in between giggles.

“how did that even happen-“ matt rubs his eyes with a wide smile,

“i’m so sorry- i don’t even know-“ i laugh,

but i’m cut off by his soft lips pressed against mine.

“i love you.” he mutters against my lips with a grin,

“i love you more.”

——

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[dragonsholygrail]

The Kiss of Fate

Shark Hybrid x fem!reader x Merman— fingering (f!receiving), slight cuckolding, masturbation, double penetration, creampie, cockwarming

Shark Hybrid bf loves everything more when he gets to experience it with you. When once he loathed the land he now loves it as it’s where he can spend countless hours with you. And when once his home within the ocean caves were lonely and dreary, now he’s seen it through your eyes and it’s the second most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. The first, of course, being you.

But experiencing the ocean with you, his lovely mate, comes with a price. A price terrible yet worth it. You see, as a Shark Hybrid his kiss doesn’t have the ability the let humans breathe underwater. So when he wishes to take you into the ocean, he has to ask for help from his rival, the Merman.

He hates the way the Merman swims up to them all smug, the way he looks at you as he sweeps you up in his arms, and the way the Merman looks at him, smirking as he kisses you with the simmering heat of an underwater volcano.

But most of all he hates how much it turns him on to watch you getting kissed so roughly. Because fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever seen. His cock hardens the longer you get swept up into the kiss.

When his length pops from its sheath his hand itches with the urge to pump himself to the sight of you. The Merman’s gaze flickers back to him and a spark of understanding passes between them.

The Merman needs no further explanation besides the sight of your bfs cock. His kiss with you grows more passionate, his webbed fingers trailing down your body and dipping into your bathing suit. That jolts you out of your trance and you glance at your bf, shocked to see him touching himself. Your brows furrow in uncertainty but at your bf’s encouraging nod you slowly turn back to the Merman who gazes at you as if you’re his most precious treasure.

With his arms holding you tightly, the Merman swims deeper into the ocean, leading you and your bf into what you assume is his home as you resurface into a cave with an air pocket.

The Merman pins you against the wall of his cave, his mouth back on yours and his hand resuming its place as he nearly rips your suit off in his haste and swipes his long digits through your folds. You whimper against his mouth, legs wrapping around his tail.

“Goddess, I’ve been waiting for this day. But I knew it’d happen. Knew one day you’d both be mine,” the Merman pants in between kisses, his hands roaming all over you as if he’d spent so much energy holding back and now he’s been let loose to give into his desires.

His cock falls from its sheath and joins his hand, grinding his length against your pussy while his fingers rub diligently at your clit. You cry out, body rocking into his hard cock. Hands weaving into his hair to keep him close.

You know exactly what he’s talking back. The hidden tension and desire that always floated between the three of you. A pot of boiling water just waiting to spill over. Every meeting, every kiss, and every glance. Bringing you all closer to the inevitable.

Your bf’s hands grip your waist as he slides himself behind you against the wall. You immediately moan and arch back against him as you feel his cock nestle between your thick thighs. With your body on display the Merman delves down, kissing along your neck.

“Don’t act like you knew I’d eventually give in,” your bf snaps as if angry. But the husky tone of his voice betrays him. He was just as aware as you all were. This was meant to be.

The Merman lifts his head, his smirk as smug and arrogant as ever as he gazes at your bf. His hand reaching out to cup the Shark Hybrids cheek and he can’t resist leaning into the touch. Only serving to make the Merman more smug.

“Of course I did, I have eyes,” he responds cheekily in a way you’ve grown to find endearing. “Now let us claim our mate before I lose my patience.”

His gaze sharpens with a burning heat that inflames your insides despite being in the cold water. He wastes no time guiding his cock to your entrance, the buildup up of it all has his length sinking inside you with ease. Mirroring moans leave you both as he stretches you so wonderfully. The Merman cries out, throwing his head back.

“You feel even better than I imagined. So tight. So fucking warm,” the Merman exclaims, losing himself in the feel of you.

Just as you’re starting to adjust to the Merman’s side, your bf’s fingers playfully trail down your back till they tease at your other hole. You whimper pathetically, desperately wanting them both inside you. Your bf shushes you gently, leaning down and kissing your temple.

“Don’t worry, mate. You’ll have us both. We’re here for you. I’m right here,” he whispers in your ear and you angle your head to kiss him.

Shark Hybrid bf kisses you slowly as he preps your ass for him. Your hips instinctively rock into the feeling, causing the Merman to hiss sharply as he tries to hold back. Waiting for your bf. And when he finally does enter you, joining the Merman inside your body, the cave echos with wanton cries and grunts.

The two Merfolk begin to move together and you gasp at the sensation, your eyes rolling back as you feel so full stuffed with two thick cocks. You clench around them, not being able to get enough and they both growl. The sound letting you know you’re in for a wild ride.

Your bf instantly picks up pace, pounding into your ass and giving it to you just how he knows you like it. The Merman quickly follows, furiously snapping his hips against yours and forcing his cock in as deep as you can take it. You scream in pleasure, holding onto them both as they take you for a ride. Forcing waves of pleasure onto your body with no remorse.

The two work in complete tandem, making sure when one is thrusting out, the other is plunging back in. Ensuring you’re never without a cock inside your addictive body. The overwhelming sensations constantly clashing and overpowering the over leaves you weak and limp in their hold. Endless moans fall from your dropped jaw as you’re helpless to the strike of your senses.

When you can no longer hold it back, your body seizes, a fierce shriek vibrating off the walls of the cave as your thrown off the edge and into the deep end of euphoria. Your orgasm moves its way through your quivering body as your mates help work you through it. Their thrusts turning erratic at your constant clenching.

They both spill their cum inside you, one after the other. Their hot release filling your insides, spurt after spurt splashes along your walls, leaving your belly slightly distended. Four webbed hands are caressing your body and two sets of lips silently praise you for how good you were for them.

You lean into them both just as you lean into this new chapter of your life. Knowing that neither of you will be able to leave the Merman now and that you both won’t want to. The three of you together just feels right. And now that you’ve had it you can’t imagine it any other way.

As you meet your bf’s eye you know his thoughts are running along the same path as yours. With a subtle nod and a gentle kiss to your throat he confirms it for you. A giddy feeling bursts through you and you naturally clench, causing your mates to groan in unison. Their cocks slowly hardening again for another round, wanting nothing more than to please their mates.