#flavours from top to bottom

[oneofthosenightbees]

Eye Candies 🍭🍡

[saym0-0]

hello jmart is t4t martin is no op jon is post top surgery. just letting u know. they told me themselves.

[grirnoires]

GIVE it up for change the fates' design

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. coming home from university has both stressed and tired you out — causing you to forget about satoru’s birthday. maybe your boyfriend could help you remember.

word count. 4.7k-ish

note. was supposed to come out on his (our) bday but writer’s block was ruthless :p hope you enjoy anyway x

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. p.orn with plot. fluff to smut. age gap (reader 20 - early 20’s, satoru’s in his early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected, size difference, missionary, creampie, breast play, dirty talk, body worship, hickeys, praise, you f.uck in the kitchen, aftercare-ish, reader gets called ‘princess, sweetheart, baby, pretty.’ i present to you soft dom&older bf!gojo satoru. he’s absolutely smitten with you btw.

“lookin’ tired, sweetheart.” satoru comments with a subtle grin as he welcomes you home. home being his apartment that you had basically moved into. why? because it was close to the university you attend.

and maybe because your lover had coaxed you into it.

you sigh, eyes half closed and glazed over. the stress of exams, assignments and whatnot has been too much for your brain, “yeah, i’m sorry. i probably look like absolute shi—”

a pair of lips were quick to shut your negative remark up. satoru pulls you closer to him by the small of your back. his fluffy bangs brush over his closed eyes, the hairs lightly grazing your forehead as well. he smells and tastes sweet. like those strawberry flavoured candies he always carries with him in his pockets.

a faint string of saliva hanging between your two mouths was all that’s left after the intense kiss. it snaps, causing the small bit of liquid to cling onto your bottom lip.

“what’d i say about apologising when you did absolutely nothing wrong?” satoru asks in a gentle and hushed tone. his thumb presses down on your bottom lip to get rid of the transparent trail of saliva. his gaze is soft and loving — like it always is when he looks at you.

that man had once again rendered you speechless. it’s the small things that make you fall for him over and over, “that—uhm—i shouldn’t apologise for something i don’t have any control over.”

satoru’s dimples show as he looks down at you fondly. a large hand settles on the top of your head, messing up your hair whilst his lips lock yours in for another kiss.

“exactly,” your lover nods in approval before grabbing your bag and placing it aside. he also helps you take off your coat and even bends down to undo your shoes for you.

you wonder how you’ve even managed to land such a man.

satoru’s long fingers work quick to undo the laces on your shoes. your tired eyes can’t help but steal a glance at the veins that run down his slender hands — up his forearms and. . .

“somethin’ on your mind, princess?” his voice calls out as he massages your feet for a split second to ease the accumulated tension from all the walking. you simply shake your head ‘no’, though satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

with a light-hearted chuckle, he raises to his full length and leads you through the hallway. his footsteps were light whilst yours were the exact opposite: heavy and exhausted.

maybe a shower or bath would help you refresh and relax. thus, that’s exactly what the sorcerer recommends;

“why don’t you go take a nice shower whilst i prepare you a hot meal, hm?” satoru comments and stops in his tracks right before the door to the bathroom. his gaze lingers on your pretty face—his hands never leaving your skin.

the idea of taking a shower did seem like the ideal solution to your problems at the moment, “okay i will, but err. . .”

your voice trails off as you look up at satoru. his knuckles run over your cheeks lovingly and his warm gaze tells you that he’s smitten with you. totally. utterly. he makes you so nervous without even realising it in the slightest.

“you don’t have to cook me something. i know work has been hard on you too.” you finish your sentence with an apologetic little smile. one that makes satoru want to squeeze your cheeks together.

you had always been a bit selfless and it’s an admirable trait, but your boyfriend also has this gnawing urge to take care of you in any way he can. maybe it’s because he’s a few years older than you and knows from experience how tough things could get at your age.

satoru smirks and pokes your sides playfully, “don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that. now let’s get you in that shower.”

a little yelp leaves your throat as you feel yourself get hoisted over his shoulder. the white-haired sorcerer opens the door with one hand, the other protectively placed on your waist to keep you from falling.

he settles you back on your feet in the middle of the room—eyes now filled with a playful glint. you could probably already guess the next words that leave his mouth.

“need help undressing? i’ll gladly do it for you,” satoru laughs. you roll your eyes and teasingly shove him towards the door. he puts his hands in the air to show his surrender, though doesn’t miss the opportunity to look you over one last time.

you’re like the embodiment of beauty even when your eyes have lost their usual spark. even if you barely have any energy left to do anything. he loves every side of you, no matter what.

resisting the urge to pull you into his arms for the nth time, your boyfriend eventually leaves you be and closes the door as he steps out. his mind, however, was still overly full with thoughts of you.

“ah, what a woman.” satoru mutters in pure amazement under his breath after departing from the bathroom. there’s a visible spring in his step as he walks to the kitchen—happy to take care of his girl.

. . .

you finish your much needed bath after about half an hour. you look in the bathroom mirror whilst wrapping a simple white towel around your torso. the bath sure did help to clear your mind, though there’s still one thing bothering you. something you’ve forgotten.

you can’t really put your finger on it, but it must have been something important. there’s an iffy feeling in your chest as you walk out of the bathroom — instantly heading towards the kitchen. surely, satoru could help you remember it.

“toru,” you call out before stepping into the kitchen. your lover is standing at the counter, his back towards you and his hands working fast to chop up some vegetables. the many pans and stoves scattered around the area only further prove his determination to prepare you a nice hot meal.

“yeah, princ— oh.” satoru eventually turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see you standing a few steps behind him. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend in his apartment was one thing—but having his girlfriend in front of him with only a towel on was another thing. the remaining waterdroplets running down your skin made you all the more attractive.

he grins as he puts the knife down and quickly dries his hands. he couldn’t wait to put his hands on your body, “c’mere, pretty.”

you grunt the moment satoru envelopes you into a tight hug with your face squished into his chest. he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head—over dramatically acting as if he hasn’t seen you for days.

his hands teasingly find their way under the material of the towel. the tips of his fingers are cold in comparison to your warm and damp skin. he drags the pad of his thumb up and down the curve of your ass; sighing in content as he feels the plush flesh.

“perv.” you mutter under your breath, though can’t deny that the light touch makes you putty in his hands. satoru responds with his usual ‘only when it comes to you’ comment before pulling away to take in your embarrassed expression. he lives for those physical reactions you have to his advances.

you slightly turn your head to the right, purposely avoiding his gaze. you face the door of the fridge that you stood in front of. your eyes fall onto the sticky notes. there’s one standing out from all the others.

you had placed it on there a few weeks ago so you wouldn’t accidentally forget that oh-so-important date.

turns out you did just that.

your face drops and you instantly go into panic mode. how could you fail to recall that today is satoru’s birthday? you don’t even know how to explain yourself. no amount of excuses would ever make this right. or so you thought.

satoru is an attentive lover; he is aware of almost everything that’s going on in your head. perhaps he is good at reading minds. or perhaps it’s just that your body language and facial expressions disclose everything he needs to know about your current mood.

“hey, i’m not upset.” satoru breathes out, eyes closed as he slides ticklish kisses down your neck. it is a sign of reassurance; he doesn’t want you to conclude that he’s angry with you for forgetting such a thing. besides, he understands that being an university student is a struggle by itself, “having you here with me at the end of the day ‘s all that matters to me, okay?”

you sigh, both in frustration and content. you’re frustrated with yourself for being too caught up with your studies, though you’re also appreciative for satoru’s empathy and lenience. he is so kind and mature; always optimistic about everything. your mindset is the opposite of his. your age gap sure did explain those cognitive differences.

despite satoru’s consolation, you still feel like you owe him something. you tilt your head back so you’re able to look him in the eyes. you give him the cutest pout ever and that man is—once again—feeling light-headed. satoru can’t decide whether to continue consoling you or to tease you about forgetting his birthday.

you are adorable when you sulk.

“i’m still.. well, sorry.” you sniffle, cuddling up to your lover to show your genuine remorse, “i know that you wouldn’t ever forget about my birthday - no matter how busy you might. . . .”

blahblahblah. you are babbling on and on about how inappropriate it is of you to forget his birthday, but satoru is hearing none of that.

his coherent thoughts shut down the moment he felt your tits press up against his chest. it is meant as an innocent hug on your part, however apparently couldn’t be interpreted as one.

your visible cleavage and the way the towel is doing a bad job at hiding the volume of your breasts increases the lewd thoughts gathering in his mind. there is no way that he can survive any more physical contact between you two without taking some action.

“..so, i was thinking that i could make it up to you somehow.” you conclude at one point in the conversation. satoru’s body subtly jolts as he snaps out of his dazed state.

he gives you a sheepish smile and tries to play it off by continuing the conversation, “make it up to me, huh?”

you nod in response and give him your best puppy dog eyes. your lover sighs in defeat; satoru couldn’t keep his emotions and carnal desires in check anymore. his hands are twitching, aching and longing to touch you all over.

the rational part of his mind told him to continue comforting you. to tell you that there was no need to compensate for failing to remember his birthday. the lust-driven part of him craves to take you up on the offer and give a different and more sexual twist to it.

satoru takes a deep breath and puts some distance between you two. not because he is annoyed or irritated by your behaviour, but because he might lose control of himself.

you can’t guess the intentions behind your lover’s actions, thus confusion follows; “satoru? you okay?”

maybe he actually is displeased by your lack of remembrance—deep, deep inside. you bite your lip anxiously, reaching your hand out to hold satoru’s in attempt to try and get him to look at you. his vision is obstructed by his own bangs, a dark shadow casted over his eyes, one that prevents you from gauging his mood.

you feel a light electric shock go through your body the instant your fingers curled around his hand. your boyfriend’s body stiffens and it’s like time stilled.

“fuck, i tried.” satoru mutters under his breath.

then, before you knew what was happening, you’re pinned to the door of the fridge. there are efforts made to articulate proper words, but the shock has overtaken all your senses. it isn’t like you could speak either—your lips are sealed shut by your lover’s.

his hands didn’t waste a single second now that they have free rein. they fondle you everywhere; from cupping your cheeks, to sliding down your neck and lower. his fingers rub up against the area where your nipples would be, sensually stroking them through the towel. his feverish kisses combined with his constant touches make you shiver in exhilaration.

you’re trying to keep up with his sudden burst of lust and that’s adorable to the white-haired sorcerer. he can feel you struggling to keep yourself balanced on your toes, your arms wrap tightly around his neck so you’d be inseparable. you feel him grin against your lips for a split second—the gesture alerting you of what might be coming.

“mmh,” satoru grunts once he frees your bare body from its confines. he finally breaks the kiss—the sole reason being to admire the sight of you.

it feels like he just unveiled a heavenly painting. his eyes don’t know what to focus on. if he is to properly and completely appreciate your nude body, it’d take him days or even weeks, “god, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be yours?”

your heart stutters in your chest as all attention is on you. the gentle yet hungry touch of your lover, his hands caressing everywhere they can reach and his half-lidded eyes that are focused on your most intimate parts—you don’t know how much more you can take.

satoru’s breathing becomes even heavier than it was moments ago. he leans his head down to your level, lips hovering above the space between your neck and shoulder. his mouth latches onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. but alas, he is a simple man.

his lips work precisely and diligently to leave hickeys on every inch. his teeth gently sink into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings left. your body is his canvas for tonight and the many other nights that are yet to come — for as long as you give him permission to.

“ngh— t.. toru,” you stammer, almost squealing. the sloppy kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. satoru feels a rush of satisfaction like no other; the frequency of his touches only increasing with each sound erupting from your throat. his tongue slides over your plump breasts, his fingers flicking the nipple he isn’t sucking on.

he eventually detaches from your tits, leaving them both covered in his saliva. he hums in delight at the erotic view and gives both your breasts a last kiss. satoru looks up into your eyes again—a sense of want in them, “you look like you have somethin’ to say, baby.”

you do, but, don’t know how to bring the message across. it is embarrassing to say all of your thoughts out loud; all that you actually want him to do that you. you know satoru would love it if you do, however you do not have the guts to.

your body does all the talking anyway. there is a pool of slick forming between your thighs, your bodily fluids showing just how aroused you are. you aren’t the only one in that state; satoru has had a raging hard-on the entire time.

“i want you.” there it goes.

you avert your eyes, though not for long. gentle fingers hold your chin up, forcing you to stare at your lover. his face is intensely close and your heart is in your throat. satoru grins at your shy behaviour, finding it all the more endearing.

“awh, my little princess wants me?” he pouts, almost mockingly if you didn’t know better. his gaze flickers downwards, “where d’ya want me? show me, baby.”

if you aren’t embarrassed already, you’d sure be now. satoru’s teasing words and the sultry tone of voice he uses eventually urges you to comply. your shaky fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand down towards your tingling cunt, “here.”

the older man hisses at the direct contact his hand makes with your pussy. it is so wet and ready — he wanted nothing more than to bury his fat cock between your folds and feel your sweet little cunt cling onto it.

he cups your cunt delicately, grazing his thumb against your clit. he traces faint circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves to make you squirm and whimper in pleasure. his other fingers spread your folds apart so he can collect your wetness on them.

“how naughty,” satoru sighs. his index finger prods at your entrance, but your thighs clamp down around his hand before he’s able to push it in.

he snickers in amusement and retracts his hand. he licks your juices off of his long fingers in a painfully slow manner, “well.. who am i to deny you? what the princess says, goes.”

satoru lifts your body up in his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. he kisses you passionately again—his tongue swirling around yours. you exchange soft moans as your hands lift his shirt up and over his head.

you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your lover’s well-built upper body. that drives him utterly insane. that look you give him.

satoru curses under his breath and pulls you down onto the carpet below. he carefully places you on your back and—once you are settled—instantly rushes to undo his grey sweatpants.

his eyes are darting from his clothes to your naked body under him. god, he wants to fuck you so bad. the view of you spread out and patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. it’s a sinful scene, yet the pleading and almost innocent-like look in your eyes is a complete contrast.

“don’t worry, i’ll give it to you in a second, baby.” satoru grins once he pulls his boxers down to his knees—revealing his hardened cock. he strokes it slowly and the pre-cum drips down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over his pink tip.

after getting a couple strokes in, he grabs the base of his dick and guides it to your wet cunt. satoru rubs his tip up and down your slit. what he didn’t expect is for his cockhead to slide into you so easily. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort.

your back arches due to the feeling and your nails dig into the carpet below you. the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum is all the lubricant you need.

“shit. seems like she doesn’t wanna let go any time soon.” satoru addresses your cunt with a groan whilst he slips his fat cock deeper into you. his eyes roll back as he feels the warmth of your pussy engulfing him, “. . .not like i was planning to leave her empty anyway.”

you moan and shiver at both satoru’s dirty words and his dick that’s currently stuffing your insides full. your mouth hangs open, your eyes remain shut and your brain takes in all the granted sensations. adjusting to his lengthy size takes you a few seconds and when you gave your boyfriend permission to continue— that’s exactly what he does.

his hips thrust in an almost hypnotising rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. every interval between the firm movements is the exact same. the thing that differs and makes the experience all the better, is the difference in strength behind each thrust.

one moment he’s carefully sliding in and out of your sopping cunt and in the next he’s forcefully slamming his cock all the way in and out. satoru stifles his moans by attaching his lips to yours—capturing them in a sloppy, rough kiss.

“satoru—satoru, ah, please.. right there,” you mewl into his mouth. his tongue finds yours and your salivas mix.

your lover answers your pleas by holding onto your hand, your fingers interlocking with his thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. satoru never fails to make you feel loved during intimate acts like these. no matter how filthy, nasty and rough he’s fucking you.

you arch your back and your chest presses against satoru’s, causing him to groan against your lips. a cocky grin appears on his face after he moves his head to the crook of your neck. he leaves a couple hickeys along the area of your throat—his hips not giving you a break. even as you continuously whimper and look like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.

that’s what satoru wants; to have you come undone beneath him. it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to him. others may call it perverted, but the older man always aims to make you reach as many orgasms as you can in one night. it fuels his carnal desires to see you convulse and shake after every intense climax.

his baby feeling good is all he wants to achieve.

“mhm, i know, princess. i know.” satoru breathes out and returns his lips to yours. he can’t go on long without tasting you. you’re like a drug he’s addicted to. every reaction—small or big—gets him going, “take it easy—fuck, you can do that f’me."

you reply with incoherent noises of agreement. there’s not a thought going on behind those watery eyes of yours. that much is obvious to your boyfriend.

your legs lock his cock inside of you by wrapping around his hips. your eyes are glazed over; a cockdrunk look. one that would make any man cum on spot.

“princess, wait,” satoru whines. he can’t stop himself, yet he’s telling you to wait. his body refuses to come to a halt as it strives towards a satisfying orgasm. he can feel it, his balls tightening and ready to spill everything they have, “if you continue looking at me like that, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

he isn’t lying. you’re nearly driving him over the edge with everything you do. your legs that tighten their grip around his hips in fear of him pulling out is his favorite thing to experience. it’s like you’re desperate to continue.

your hands play with his sweaty body, fingers caressing his hard chest to feel his heartbeat. you’re drooling. your head is spinning as you think of your lover claiming you. fucking his precious cum into you, “inside—want it inside. all of it.”

satoru chokes on his spit. you don’t know what you do to him. muttering such erotic words causes the older man to malfunction every time. without fail. his hips are painfully ramming against yours.

“you sure? ah, shit.” satoru curses. his brows are furrowed, his hands holding you by your jaw. the view of you with your head tilted back and your teary eyes looking straight into his is pure perfection, “can’t deny you when you look so hot begging me to cum inside your greedy little pussy.”

the room is spinning. your nails claw into satoru’s back, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. you shudder the instant he slides out of you until all that’s left is his pink tip prodding at your entrance.

it’s like he gets off on it. to see you whimper, quiver and struggle to contain your pleas for permission to cum. your boyfriend drags his tip up and down your slit, tapping it against your clit repeatedly.

“cum f’me, baby.” satoru coos. he knows you’re right on the edge. before you can reply, he shoves his cock back inside your spasming cunt—ruthlessly pounding you until you scream his name.

your eyes roll back and all you can do is hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washes over you. your hips buck, your legs tremble and your pussy gushes all over his cock.

spurts of clear liquid cover satoru’s thighs. you squirting isn’t something he had expected to see, but it is a pleasant surprise regardless. it all gets too much for your lover and it drives him to his own climax as well.

satoru hugs you tightly to him. your chests press together with one of his arms holding your upper body up—his nose buried into your hair. a muffled grunt escapes his mouth and that’s when you know that he's reaching his finish.

“please—take it, take it, take it,” satoru stutters and stammers. he can’t form any proper words the moment his cock twitches and releases a huge load of sperm into your womb. it’s an overwhelming amount; globs of transculent white liquid ooze out from between your folds.

his sticky cum slides down to your asshole and onto the carpet, staining it. satoru bites his bottom lip whilst his body is still recovering, cock going soft once he pulls it out. he doesn’t know what to do or where to look, yet somehow his gaze always darts back to your dripping cunt.

“fuck. . . that’s hot.” the older man takes in a deep breath. it’s too soon to get hard again, he figures. the way you’re still trembling and struggling to catch your breath tells him enough. you need a break. and a well-deserved one it is.

your weak taps against satoru’s shoulder snaps him out of his dazed state. he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes before helping you into a sitting position. his blue eyes flash with worry,

“hey, hey, baby—you okay?” satoru asks. his voice is raspy, though obviously filled with concern. he rubs your back and encourages you to take deep breaths. small kisses to your temples help calm you down too.

your breathing eventually returns to normal. you chuckle tiredly and lean your head against his shoulder. your attentive lover wipes the saliva from the corners of your lips and does the same with the tears around your eyes. you sniff, “y-yeah. just felt amazing, hehe.”

satoru sighs in relief. he was scared that he hurt you somehow. your confession makes him laugh and squeeze your body against his. he cups your face and kisses you twice out of pure adoration.

you’re always ten times more adorable to him after you’ve had sex.

“aw, glad it did.” satoru smiles, his dimples showing. your eyes glisten and you smile back out of reflex. you pucker your lips and your lover takes the hint. he presses his mouth against yours once more; this time playfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.

you pull back and teasingly swat his bicep. satoru tickles your side as a response. and that’s how you once again end on the floor, with a heavy weight pressing onto your front.

satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. you’re the best thing to have happened to him. you, the love of his life.

“the best present i could have ever gotten.” the white-haired sorcerer mumbles to no one in particular. though, you heard it. faintly.

you rub his back. you’re sure you made it up to him. he’s clinging onto you, nearly suffocating you by laying on top of your smaller body, but you don’t mind. you play with his hair and your fingernails graze against his undercut to which satoru reacts with a low purr.

you’re happy. he’s happy. that’s all that matters;

“happy birthday, my love.”

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

NO BUT I NEED SATORU AND SUKUNA INSIDE OF ME RIGHT NEEOOOWWWWW I CAN TAKE THEM.BOTH!!!!!

❝ Darling, won't you just plead, or should I begin to bleed? ❞

Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen x ftm!reader x Heian Era!Gojo Satoru | alternate universe, NSFW | sub. bottom. reader (AFAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 5.4

warnings: mentions of murder, dub. con (Gojo Satoru), power imbalance, size difference, threesome, fingering, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex, spit roasting, triple penetration, tummy bulging, improper use of RCT , marking, possessive sex, degradation, one of Sukuna's cock gets bigger out of spite, unrealistic amounts of cum, AFAB terminology (reader's genitals are referred to with cock, dick, hole, boycunt, boypussy, clit)

“Call off your dog, Sukuna,” he snarls. Sukuna’s grin stretches obscenely and he throws his head back to laugh. Satoru hopes to have hurt your ego — from the tall tales he’s heard of (Y/N), you were known to have a haughty air about you. Satoru is sorely disappointed as he hears you chuckling along with Sukuna. In any other situation, the sweet sounds of your laughter would’ve made his heart flutter. But it’s mixed with Sukuna’s cackling so intricately he shudders at the very thought.

“Come, dog.”

authors note: heed the warnings!!! * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned)!

When the sun sets over the horizon and tucks itself past the peaks of those great mountains, it isn’t unusual for the sounds of burning to follow. Little slivers of suns swaying on top of wax or dancing across oil. Naturally, the burning comes with smoke. Casual tantalizing curls emitting from the evershifting flame; make you wonder if the sun steams and smokes.

Does it stay in the darkness, its company being the dancers of its creation swirling with it to the crackling of its flames? Afterall, if the sun is the king of flames, it would make sense that he has his own concubines.

Your eyes pull away from the sprouts of candles at the edge of the throne. Leaning your head back, you now gaze up at the king of curses as he breathes in the flavourful, addictive, smoke from the burning tobacco and exhales it into the air. He swallows the ghostly concubines. Stealing another king’s treasure. It was like him; he was the true king, after all.

Sukuna pays you no mind. He had called you to lounge with him, had Uruame prepare you for a night of passion despite not yet touching you. He had simply tapped his lap and you filled out the space by cushioning your head on his big thigh.

He’s dressed in auspiciously white garments, the expensive material has you wondering what’s in store for the both of you. The King of Curses does not need primping. Even so, he is dressed loosely. The mouth on his stomach is visible and one of his sleeves threatens to fall from his shoulder. The hand holding the smoke pipe allows itself to be pushed while the lower pair holds onto your hips. He stares down at you, his four eyes glinting silently in question. You’re practically kneeling on his lap and you barely reach the bottom half of his lips.

“Do you recall how many people I’ve killed for their insolence?” his tone is drawled out, a tinge of amusement hidden behind the baritones. “Yes, my King. I’ve always enjoyed watching you destroy them,” your hands curl around the bulging muscles of his chest and you trace up the tattoos he has to reach his shoulders.

Sukuna takes you in. Uruame had outdone themselves. You’re dressed in his favourite colours. Nothing too restrictive, the layers were enough to entice but not to invoke annoyance. Japanese politeness and grace are interwoven into every stitch despite your less-than-innocent gaze. You’ve always had the prettiest eyes; he remembers jesting that he’d pluck them out to put into a jar just so he could see them every day. They trial the shape of your lips, painted with the shades of flower petals that bloom in the light of the heavens; he thinks the irony is all the more poetic.

Your mouth and heaven do not go hand-in-hand. It’s pure sin. From that wicked, silver, tongue to your saccharine-sweet smile to that spine-shivering laugh.

You were hell-born. Just like he was.

Gently, you slip your digits under the fabric of his shoulder and he watches you and your actions impassively. Four eyes give him more room to admire you with, whatever part of you. He imagines you mean to smooth out the — imaginary — wrinkles as your palm slips up and down his broad shoulders. Your touching earns a firm squeeze to your hips, his hands are so large they cover the entirety of your back. And when they squeeze it makes your eyes flutter. He could snap you in half with just one hand. Barely use any of his strength — Sukuna could kill you as an afterthought, toss your beautiful body aside, and never think of you again.

But he doesn’t.

“You are getting impatient, boy.” The hand on his chest could feel that rumbling. Your throne — his lap — moves and you let yourself be placed according to his will. Sukuna sets you back on his lap and splays you out with a look. You stretch out on him — if you were a cat your tail would’ve curled coyly into the air just under his chin.

“It is late, Your Grace.”

The only lights left were from the candles and pools of oil ignited.

“You are passion and flame and I’ve been prepared for you to alight.”

He thinks your flowery words are adorable but unneeded. Sukuna props his face on his knuckles as he gazes down at your exposed legs. They’re practically glowing and the scent of oil entices his cocks. The mouth on his stomach splits and his tongue curls over the teeth there - you giggle at the sight.

“You want me to fuck you,” he smirks sharply, “and I am telling you to wait, brat.”

“For what?” You prop yourself on your elbows, brows pinched. “The servant that prepared me has his head tossed into a hole and yet I can still feel his little prick inside of me.”

Taking Ryomen Sukuna’s cocks was not an easy feat. For the common man, a few fingers and oil would do. For a beast that is your king, a generous pour of oil and a man pumped with herb aphrodisiacs was needed. None of the men would ever reach completion and neither did you — Sukuna would not allow it.

They would fuck you but once Uruame felt that you were stretched enough to gape, they’d pull the man away and bring him to the courtyard. A hole would be dug and the naked man would be beheaded. His penis was tossed in there to be buried and forgotten. No one should live to tell the tale of preparing Sukuna’s precious concubine. They should be honoured they were chosen but they’ll never be seen again. Those poor bastards. At least they were useful before they died.

Mirth sparks in his eyes.

“I spoil you,” and at that, you bashfully turn away. “I deserve to be spoiled.”

A greeting comes from across the long hall. The servants next to the doors rise from their bowed positions and it slides open to reveal Uruame and a man touched by frost behind them. Uruame is kneeling, and the man is not.

“Your Grace,” Uruame bows deeper.

“The head of the Gojo clan, Gojo Satoru. As you requested.”

His skin was pale and his hair paler. You’re certain if the sun rose he’d turn all but translucent. The flicker from the candles attempts to cast shadows across his small face but they cannot darken those sky-blue eyes. Uruame had announced he was from the Gojo clan but, you’ve only ever seen such blue eyes from white men — he doesn’t appear to have been sired by one. You doubt they’d even let the head of their clan be of a mixed race.

Gojo Satoru is a freak of nature. He is a curse in the shape of a man.

“Does he not know how to bow?” Your purring tone is gone. It’s cold as Uruame’s technique. Sukuna eases it back with a deliberate squint of his eye.

“Bring him in. Then leave, Uruame.” They bow deeper (if that was even possible) and after Satoru steps through, Uruame is hidden by the sliding doors once again.

“Have you reconsidered my offer, sorcerer?” Satoru’s brows are furrowed, and his long sleeves hide his hands but from the flex of his shoulders you know they are clenched.

Rising from your throne you make your down the platform. Every step exposes your delicious thighs and legs and it is so indecent it makes Satoru’s ire falter. The sleeves of your outfit drag onto the floor and it weighs down the fabric around your shoulder; your neck and your clavicle down to the whisper of your chest has Satoru’s ears blush.

You walk in a half-circle to his right, your eyes set into a glare that disappears as slips from his eyesight. Satoru knows he should not let you get behind him but turning his head away from Sukuna seems more damning. Sukuna says nothing of your less-than-inviting nature, his silence prompting Satoru to speak. “To serve you or die?” he scowls. “The Gojo clan will not serve you, Ryomen Sukuna.” Sukuna sighs, placing his smoke pipe down as he frowns. “So you have come all the way here to waste my time and to die. So typical of you sorcerers.”

“If you wish for my clan to serve you, we require more than empty promises.” Satoru’s tone was akin to the sound of the first arrow whistling through the wind, the growl he let out being the twang of the released drawstring. Regret beads down the back of his neck as he feels the sharp edge of a curved dagger pressed against the hill of his throat.

“You ask my king to fulfill wishes? Do you think him a genie?” the shape of his teeth familiarizes themselves as his jaw clenches. The blade is a cursed object, it mewls and groans faintly; the opal colour breathing as it soaks in his blood.

“Call off your dog, Sukuna,” he snarls. Sukuna’s grin stretches obscenely and he throws his head back to laugh. Satoru hopes to have hurt your ego — from the tall tales he’s heard of (Y/N), you were known to have a haughty air about you. Satoru is sorely disappointed as he hears you chuckling along with Sukuna. In any other situation, the sweet sounds of your laughter would’ve made his heart flutter. But it’s mixed with Sukuna’s cackling so intricately he shudders at the very thought.

“Come, dog.”

With a curl of a finger, Satoru is able to breathe. You make your way to Sukuna, kneeling as you reach the top of the platform and crawl right onto his lap. The dagger slipped under the fabric around your waist.

“You are certainly an arrogant man, sorcerer. Your haughty clans fail to have taught you any diplomatic manners.”

“Diplomatic?” Satoru barks out a laugh. You narrow your eyes, bemused. “You’re a tyrant, King of Curses! The villages you’ve burned to the ground, the clans you’ve wiped out! Diplomacy? You’re taking the piss!”

Sukuna spots the curls of your lips and when glance up at him, he concurs that you do deserve to be spoiled because the two of you share the same thoughts.

This Satoru, this stubborn man; he would make a fine collection for both of you if he could survive a night.

“You require more than my word to serve me? Very well.” The nudging from your side earns him a purr and with your back turned to Satoru, you shed the fabrics. Blue eyes watch in confusion as they watch you kneel and push away the clothes from Sukuna’s shoulder.

“My darling dog has been hungry. He’s insatiable, every part of him.” One of his hands holds your chin and turns it so Satoru has a clear view of your side profile with your lips pushed forward.

“From his painted lips.”

Another hand slips down the waist of your outfit and it gives way to show the small of your back. Nearly the entirety of your back is marked from Sukuna’s lips, teeth, nails, and hands like a canvas of artwork.

“To his tight holes. You cannot see it, sorcerer, but he is clenching around the tip of my finger. Hungry.”

The hilt of your dagger is askew but neither paid it any mind. There’s more rustling and you’re almost completely naked as you obediently let yourself be displayed.

“Ah!” The wet squelch of a tongue makes your back straighten and your fingers spasm as they tighten their hold on Sukuna’s robes.

“His useless cock is already leaking.”

“What are you asking of me, Sukuna?” Satoru speaks through gritted teeth. But his skin is so pale it betrays his weak resolve. Those reddened cheeks and ears, the racing heartbeat; Sukuna doesn’t need four eyes to know that Satoru’s dick was interested in whatever is being offered.

“Fuck my darling boy and your family will not be cursed by me while they serve me, Satoru.”

“W — What?” he sputters. Meanwhile, you’re all but melting as the sounds continue. He sees your ass trembling as your expression melts in pleasure.

Sukuna arches a pointed brow as his hand tugs the clothes of your body and it flutters onto the ground in a fancy display. There you are. Naked as the day you were born. Satoru should look away; but how does one pull their sights away from a body carved by the devil? Angelic in all the wrong ways, temptation sticks to your skin like perfume and Satoru is not a saint but he feels as though a single touch would damn him. In fact, just looking at you is dangerous.

“Are you a virgin? Or is my concubine not to your taste?”

Your nail digs through Sukuna’s shoulder. So his large tongue sweeps below your drenched cunt to soothe your irritation.

“I warn you to answer that question with caution, Gojo Satoru,” you hiss out.

“Perhaps he’s not a fan of men,” Sukuna reasons. “Common men perhaps. Are you calling me common, My King?” the squelching sound of your nails digging in makes streams of crimson slip down Sukuna’s skin and the sight of it has Satoru gasping (again).

“Put your claws away, boy. As if I would sink my cock into a common man. No, I take you like a proper bitch. This body may be different, but this tight hole?”

Satoru watches a tongue appear from Sukuna’s palm. The pink muscle pushes in and the rim of your asshole easily gives in, back arching further to assist. "And this?" Satoru sees the dexterous muscle from his stomach curl. A tongue larger than any he's ever seen, squirming its way inside of you from the front, and it makes you gasp airily in pleasure as it eagerly wriggles deeper.

“A body made to be fucked, to be left leaking with cum for days. And it is rare, Satoru, for it to leak with cum that isn’t mine.”

Satoru takes a tentative step back, shame coursing through him as he tears his eyes down.

“This is — This is dishonorable — “

“If you walk through that door, Satoru, you’ve sealed the fate of your clan to be erased forever.”

You moan as his tongue grows longer and those bloody fingers wrap around Sukuna’s thick neck. The mask on Sukuna’s face, the eyes on it, narrow the tiniest bit.

“And you’d offend my concubine greatly. He’ll enjoy murdering each and every one of your clan members for the disrespect.”

The candles shudder as the wind blows through the slits of the wood. It causes the flames to dance and the shame Satoru is experiencing to be swallowed down. He is frozen there for a moment, your sighs of pleasure like a siren call to hell. Sukuna’s great tongue hides behind a row of teeth, the grin most likely identical to the one he wears on his face, as Satoru approaches the steps of the platform.

“Come, Gojo Satoru.”

Climbing up the stairs was akin to walking to the gates of hell. Satoru can see the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck. He wonders if every part of tastes like heaven. Your tears, your slick, your sweat, your cum, your blood. Without even laying your hand on him once and you've already destroyed him, (Y/N).

"Kneel." Sukuna's words are a vow. An agreement. If Satoru's knees had settled onto the wooden floor, he'd have sealed the fate of his entire clan to serve under Ryomen Sukuna. His pupils quake, taking a sharp intake of breath as he tries to steady his heart.

Your hands invade his vision. The palms of Sukuna's concubine are soaked in crimson — was that why they were so soft? Your nails still have Sukuna's blood and the feeling makes spiders crawl up his spine.

"Gooseflesh rippling?" You whisper as your naked body finally earns his focus. You're in a puddle of your clothes, kneeling before him. Tilting your head, you surge upwards and press your forehead with his. His eyes may be haunting but yours are unforgettable.

It reminds him of the first time he'd ever peered into the darkness of the woods behind his clan's estate. How the light never reaches past the woodline. The silence. The way his brain made up shapes and faces and beings and curses and you.

In that memory, there you are. Between the mighty trees, what little light did reach you making your eyes reflect it back; as if you didn't have a soul yourself and all you can do is pretend.

"Kneel, boy." You say and Satoru's knees buckle.

The thud that resounds was final. Your grin is terrifying. Sukuna looms over your shoulder and his eyes are glowing with excitement.

Gojo Satoru had made a deal with two devils.

"Good sorcerer," your face comes closer and your lips acquaintances themselves with his. They're pillowy and soft. Blood rushes south despite Satoru's conflicted feelings. If he pretends you're not who you are, perhaps he can delude himself into thinking you're someone he loved; a man he wishes to devour; Violet eyes, black hair, upturned eyes with a voice that'd make angels sigh.

That image disappears as he feels your fingers wrap around his throat. You say nothing. But the second Satoru's eyes shoot open, he sees the unamused expression on your face.

"Now, don't get yourself killed so early on in the night, Satoru," Sukuna muses out. His lower hand reaches to grasp the nape of your neck and it squeezes hard enough for Satoru to hear your bones wheeze under pressure.

"Come here, darling." You turn away with a huff.

Satoru doesn't know what to do with himself so he is content to watch as you undress Sukuna. The King of Curses watches, enraptured by your movement as his torso is now bare of anything. The mouth on his stomach, that monstrous tongue, wets your chest and you simply shudder but continue your task.

"My concubine can be rather pouty when he isn't paid attention to. Best to not let your mind wander, Satoru."

You scowl, bending over to mouth at Sukuna's crotch as he holds the back of your head. The sight of your dripping cunt and ass has Satoru's cock rising to attention.

"How dare he even do so. I'll slice his cock off," Sukuna thinks the sight would be amusing but he simply guides your head lower.

There were rumours of Ryomen Sukuna's endowment.

If he had another pair of everything, did that mean his cock was the same?

Satoru wonders how you aren't split in half as he sees Sukuna's cocks twitching in your grasp. They're thick and heavy, bumping into each other as they perk up from your attention. The tip of it is nearly bright red, angry, and demanding a hole to sink into. The veins on it must make you keen often because you tongue at them with a pleased grin.

"Satoru." He tears his eyes away from the sight. Sukuna smiles at him, ignoring your pleased groans as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth while your hand strokes over the other.

"Feast, Satoru."

The command is so simple yet so vague. Satoru can't quite comprehend it. So he stares at Sukuna then at you, kneeling before your King with the most obscene noises coming from your mouth. There was no way the phallus could even comfortably rest on your tongue, each the length of your face and as thick as your wrist.

It must be uncomfortable. He must have other concubines for this exact reason. There was simply no way you alone could please him.

Your head rises from between your shoulders, and a long stroke from the base to the tip of his cock has Sukuna exhaling through his nose; he sees you bob up and then down. A minute gagging noise slips through but then you widen your knees and somehow you dip your head low.

"That's it, darling. Take your fill."

He wasn't lying when he said you were greedy. Satoru pushes himself to stand and Sukuna would usually kill men for not bowing their heads to the floor but he wants to see what the white-haired man intends to do.

Cheeks sucked in, eyebrows sloped delicately as your jaw strains to keep itself intact. Sukuna is well-endowed, big, humongous, huge — whatever other synonym you'd use to describe big cock(s). You feel someone move your bangs out of the way.

"He's halfway down..." Satoru had seen a lot in his life. From the fantastical curse techniques of other sorcerers to the nightmare-inducing curses, the wealth from his clan members also assists the opulence he's known since birth. The whores his uncles had given to him as a gift for his birthday — the array of positions they knew, of how willing they were to do whatever he asked with a grin even if it involved humiliating themselves or him.

But he'd never seen a man as handsome as you take such a monstrous dick in his mouth with no effort. The stretch of your lips, the smear of the red pigment around it, and on Sukuna's cock.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Sukuna boasts. "Usually, the other concubines look like fishes speared on a pike when they take me into their mouths." Your eyes open in a glare and Satoru placates it by stroking your temple with his thumb.

"Not even a mention?" Satoru's inquiry earns a chuckle from Sukuna. "No. He will not allow it, if I wasn't so far down his mouth I'm sure he would've pulled away to complain." The hand on your head is not Sukuna's but it holds you firmly in place.

"How do you even fuck the other concubines?" Satoru wonders.

"(Y/N) usually slaughters them a week after I've brought them in." Satoru's shock weakens his hold, so you pull away with a cough and frown deeply up at the two men.

"I do not slaughter them! They just so happened to have ill-fated ends." You squeeze his cock one more time before turning your attention to his lower half, kissing it sweetly on its head before smearing his precum all over your lips, the smell of it making your cheeks warmer than it already was.

Truly, (Y/N). You didn't need to play this part of a proper highborn so astutely. Even if you beheaded the last concubine he had in front of him instead of summoning a curse to slam into it, resulting in the palanquin and the concubine within it along with her attending ladies being thrown off a cliff and mangled beyond words; he wouldn't have punished you.

It was your right to exorcise whoever you needed to so long as it didn't interfere with Sukuna's will. It pleased him to make you bridled with rage to result in murder, why wouldn't it? The blood that painted you from your head to your toes. It cannot all be his doing.

His dearest concubine, you mustn't get queasy so quickly. Show him the lines you'll cross to ensure he remains yours. Kill whoever you please, maim the sorcerers who take him away from you, burn down villages, and bask in their cries and their pain with him.

Hide your giggles behind your silk sleeves if you must but don't you dare hide your amusement of carnage from him; command curses to tear men apart and slice women to shreds. Everything is yours, (Y/N). Everything you wish for, everything you ask for, everything you need, and everything you didn't even think you required.

The world is yours.

"Of course," he grins and the tongue from his stomach reaches out to lick your cheek.

"Astonishing," Satoru mutters. Concubines killing each other aren't anything new though he sincerely doubts the others truly understood what they were getting into when they became Sukuna's. "Thank you," you reply after combing your hair back to take his other cock in your mouth.

Satoru feels overdressed and Sukuna was not in the business of doing that task for him. So he sheds his layers, the symbols of crane wings embroidered in the sleeves shimmer gloriously up at him. Satoru folds them over to hide it.

He will need to forget about everything else tonight. If he wishes to remain sane or tolerate the both of you — he will use his other head to guide him.

"Milky skin." You purr from Sukuna's lap. "Pale as the moon. Eyes as blue as the sky. I would kill you if you lived in this palace."

Satoru scoffs, standing with his cock twitching in the cool breeze.

"How fortunate for the both of us that I don't live here then." He hisses as your grasp onto his semi-hard dick.

"Even the hairs here are white. What a pretty cock." The feeling of your velvet tongue on his tip makes his breath shudder. It's nowhere close to Sukuna's length —or girth —but that doesn't cause him disappointment. He's longer than average, his cockhead poking the back of your throat, and veiny, mainly on his sides.

"Good weight," he moans as your lips trace the prominent veins, painting his blushing cock with your marks. Satoru doesn't understand what you want to him to say to the comment, a thank you seemed unbecoming and anything else would be odd. So he says nothing and just caresses your jaw to guide your mouth forward.

"Take your fill, (Y/N)."

The position you're in is not entirely new. You've taken Uraume and Sukuna together before. Witt their sex is in your mouth while your King takes you from behind. Ah, what fond memories. You really should invite the ever-so-loyal servant into your bed once again.

What a talented mouth they had. Such vigor to please you, adoration pouring from them with every flick of their tongue.

Sukuna is still a possessive lover. That did not change. But he does find amusement in the way you ache for Uraume's body and something about the way Uraume strokes themselves to completion as they watch the two of you fuels him with pride.

But enough about your lovely Uraume.

Satoru had placed his robes beneath your knees and so you suck in your cheeks as thanks as you suck on his length. Your hands were on his knee and his fingers held a fistful of your hair. The silken cloth beneath you makes you inch forward with each thrust from Sukuna.

"The way he's stretched around me. Satoru, I'll save his other hole for you to fuck, this one is all mine," his hips are flushed against your ass. He can feel your cunt attempting to push him out, resisting the stretch that would've killed others, as cursed energy flows through your body. It would ebb away, the need to heal yourself, as your body gets used to his size but fuck does it make Sukuna grin absolutely monstrous at the very fact you even need to do so.

You can't blame him. It's not like he'd never hurt you in any way you didn't like.

Your thighs are clenched tightly around his other cock. Luscious thighs slicked with oil that had been conveniently placed nearby and making sounds almost as obscenely as your filled cunt.

Satoru's jaw is loose. Throaty groans and appreciative moans rewarding your efforts as your nose presses against the patch of pubic hair he has. Diamonds line your waterline as you breathe through your nose, the back of your throat squeezing around Satoru's cock.

"Fuck!" He pulls you away, stroking himself furiously with one hand and holding your head in the other. The expression on your face should be preserved forever, Satoru thinks. So that future men will wish to be born in the same era as you.

His brows furrow in annoyance at how ethereal you look.

You should look whorish — which you do! But there's something unreal about it. Picture perfect, an embodiment of lust, depravity that beckons with that wet tongue and wetter eyes.

"S'kuna! Oh, yes, yes — Darling, you fill me so well!" Your voice is hoarse as you're jostled back and forth, nails leaving claw marks on the wooden floors. Satoru lets go of your head and you stretch out like a cat, the top half melting as your back arches into a perfect position.

Sukuna kneads at the mounds of your ass, splitting it apart to watch your asshole winking back at him while he holds your waist. It's brutal how he fucks you. Satoru stands and backs away to watch, his breath coming out in barely there white puffs and his heartbeat drumming through his ears.

"Fuh - fuck! Mpfh! Ngh — Your cocks are beautiful, they fill me so well," He tightens his hold on you and the moan you let out as he moves your body makes Satoru's cum bead on his tip.

Sukuna chuckles as he sees Satoru cursing and wiping away his shame. "You've never been in a room where people aren't salivating over you have you, sorcerer?" Satoru frowns pointedly at his condescending tone.

"Hah! I feel you in my stomach — You're — !"

"Must you belittle me any chance you get? Are you trying to compensate for something?" Satoru retorts. It makes Sukuna bark out a laugh. Strong biceps curl and flex as he rights your upper half so that it's pressed to his front.

On display for Satoru with Sukuna's greediest mouth curling around your chest to tease your chest.

"Compensate, is that the word you used?"

Between your slicked thighs, his cock spears through them in tandem with the one inside you. Satoru's eyes widen at the sight of the prominent bump poking from your stomach. The fact that you aren't dead is a clear testament to your skills — both in bed and in battle.

"I've heard no one has ever cut his skin," Satoru kneels again in front of you, nose curling at the dexterous muscle that flicks at his chin. "I know Reverse Curse Technique is a useful skill to have...but I never thought you'd be so perverse to use it so shamelessly."

"Get off your high horse, S — Mfh! That feel s'good — Satoru!"

"Wrong name," Sukuna growls near your ear. It manages to split Satoru's lips into a smirk as he cups your chest in each hand. It's slicked with saliva and he ignores the disgust he feels as he locks his lips with yours. Sweet as ever, despite the saltiness that lingers on your tongue.

"If his cunt is yours," Satoru pants out between kissing you. His thumb tweaking your nipples between his index, his cock hanging heavily as it fills up once again.

"Then he'll have to face away. I'll take his ass," he bites down on your lower lip. The sensation of his teeth and Sukuna's rough palms tightening their grip on you have you squealing in pleasure. His hips pause, it gives you enough time to form words while the men stare each other down for a second.

Sukuna was beginning to miss Uraume's presence. They never glared at him with open animosity, unadulterated wanting and greedily claiming your chest with a grip that'd leave bruises.

The shadows of a scowl crossed his face. Insolent little brat. But so fucking gorgeous. Strong too, from what he's heard.

He wasn't anywhere near as beautiful or strong as you but Sukuna has always had a penchant for these types. No one walks all over him. But he does find it amusing when pretty faces are so defiant — or when their heads are staked on a pike with crows plucking their eyes out.

You're breath shudders as Sukuna pulls you off his cock, leaning onto Satoru. He wraps his arms around you, eyelids fluttering at the feeling of your wet lips tracing his jaw while your body is all but boneless.

He inhales sharply as you grab his cock. "Thankfully, you're not — hah — completely incompetent in the sack. Impressive stamina, sorcerer." That, he could say thank you too. So he does.

Satoru is kind as he maneuvers you to face your beloved. Was that irritation in his chest at how excitedly you allowed Sukuna to claim your lips? Gods, no.

"Get closer," you said as you glanced at him over your shoulder. "If the both of you are going to fuck me, get closer."

What was it that Sukuna told him to do again?

Feast?

You can't tell where your pleasure begins or ends. Every nerve was set aflame and you weren't even sure if your body could've survived this if it weren't for your cursed energy.

Because from behind you, Satoru's thick member is spearing you again and again with Sukuna's. The idea of Satoru's cock inside of you seemed to have upset him enough to want to...accompany it in its endeavors. The sorcerer is hypnotized by the way your rim furls and unfurls on his blushing dick, how it greedily squeezes down every time he hits home and bumps his cockhead with Sukuna's. Even though their cum was creating a frothy ring of white at his base — he seems intent on pumping you with more and more and more. Marking your insides as white as his hair. He spreads your cheeks apart, groaning each time he does, and fuck, he's filthy as he whispers into your ear.

"You take us so fucking well. Like a proper whore, huh?"

"I'm not — I'm not a whore, you —"

Then, at the front, Sukuna's displeasure at Satoru's brazen attitude was taken out on your cunt. Still, you take all of him in because what concubine would you be if you couldn't? Your pride was on the line and you'd rather claw your own eyes out than let it be broken down.

His cock was inside of your cunt. You were more than pleased.

Sukuna's face floats above yours, his hands gripping everywhere while Satoru was chased off to just handle your ass. Though even then, he'd grab a handful of each cheek just to leave bitemarks on it — and annoy Satoru.

"Look at you," he groans out. His vermillion eyes are hooded with lust as he cradles your face.

You were perfection. A filthy little demon made to accompany him until the end of time. Your brows sloped so prettily, eyes hazy and lashes clumped together with tear streaks down your face. Lips red and bruised, neck littered with angry and dark marks.

"My King, my beloved, I — Oh, fuck, I'm close, I'm close," you whimper for what felt like the 5th time that night alone.

Why you were cumming? You weren't even sure.

The aching stretch of both holes as your brain is wrecked with too much pleasure is causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. Your hands spasm from within one of Sukuna's hands and your whole body shakes as you feel yourself cum again.

"Ah, shit!" Satoru groans as he pulls out, frowning as cum follows his departure and drops onto the floor. "You're just as awful as he is," he hisses out to Sukuna as he glares at the way the cock he'd been sharing your ass with stopped growing. Snug as a bug as it plugged you up. Satoru had already been close, with a few more thrusts he'd be filling you up once again. Then, what he thought was you tightening up turned out to be Sukuna making his cock so big it made the fit painful.

Fucking asshole.

"If I was as awful as he was, I would've cleaved the top of your head off, Gojo." Sukuna grabs your ass and your wanton mewl makes both men twitch.

His thrusting picks up its speed and you fight back his hold to wrap your arms around his neck. Sukuna allows it. He's close. You can tell. He's close and like a child, he decides he's the only one allowed to flood your insides with his cum, overflow your body until it forgets the taste of Gojo Satoru's.

"Sukuna, Sukuna — My lover, my beloved," you manage a dopey grin as you messily mould your lips together.

"Cum with me, Sukuna."

He's wonderfully loud when he does. Violent too. His nails digging into your waist and ass while he thrusts himself balls deep inside of you. Satoru's amazed your body hadn't given out — amazed at your endurance and how your cursed energy levels hadn't once seemed to deflate once in the time the three of you had been naked.

He shouldn't hope for it — but Satoru wonders how you would fare in a fight with himself. In fact, he cums into his own fist and onto the floor at the very thought.

Sukuna groans as you squeeze around him, another orgasm washing over you in pathetic spurts of wetness from your cunt.

Soft panting fills the air. The two servants by the door rise from their knees to slide the door open and Uraume walks in with three women behind them.

"Fuck," Satoru should scramble to get off his kneeled position but his body is too pumped with pleasure to even process the command. "Oh, don't feel shame, sorcerer," Sukuna muses out.

The King of Curses leans back, settling on his throne with you in his lap and still snuggly inside of your holes. Uraume comes to your back, and two girls tend to Sukuna, gracefully wiping him down while Uraume does the same to you.

The other girl does the same to Satoru and he simply tosses his head back as he falls back onto his calves, groaning at the cool water.

"They've heard everything already. Your sacrifice for your clan. How noble."

A weak giggle comes from the mess of limbs on Sukuna's torso. It's still one of the most heart-fluttering sounds Satoru had ever listened to and he hates how his cheeks reddens once again as you lift your head to smile at him.

"So very noble, Gojo Satoru."

[yaekiss]

crawling like a zombie out of a grave with heavy brainROT thinking of that vampire bat thing… i KNOW that freak of a man childe would absolutely be into that, even biting his lips to add on more blood and get you hooked on and used to his instead of some lousy human… but also thing of cuties like kaveh who shiver at the taste, and you’re sure he’d be blushing if he could, whimpers flowing out from his lips so easily. a high class diluc having a glass pressed against his lips held from you, filled with exquisite blood that fills his mouth before you kiss him filthily, knowing full well how he loves how perverted it makes him feel, how his hands shake and grip tightens on you with every swirl of your tongue against his.

𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Sub! Tartaglia, Sub! Kaveh, Sub! Diluc (separate), no gendered terms for reader, vampire! AU, blood and biting, mentions of violence in Tartaglia's part, lightly implied top!reader in Kaveh's part, footjob and cumming in pants in Diluc's part, lmk if I missed anything! ꩜ A/N: I didn't mean for this to get so long... pulpie what did u do to me...... 2.2k of vampire brainrot orz,,, anyways hope you enjoy the difference in dynamics !! PLEASE FILL IN THE FORM HERE AFTER READING THANK YOU!!!!

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟕𝟐𝟎: 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒂 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Human!Tartaglia ꒦꒷

Someone as battle-hungry as Childe never backs down from a challenge, even if it means trying to tame a literal creature of the night. (Although, reading through countless dusty tomes regarding vampire courtship isn’t really part of the taming process.)

A plus side to having a bloodthirsty harbinger as your partner is that you haven’t known hunger ever since he started trying to woo you! Dragging to you the, still warm, bodies of enemies he had to dispose of with a cheery grin, he watches, enraptured, as you partake in the meal he so graciously gifts you.

His eyes are trained on your form as you lap up the blood from the existing wounds he inflicted on the body during the fight, coating your lips in a sickening glisten. Childe squirms in his place, feeling a heat rising within. Tearing his gaze away from you, he looks down.

Fuck. He’s hard.

Shakily, he palms himself through his pants, looking for some relief. He tries to muffle his moans but he’s never really known to be quiet. His mind fills itself with images of you, appetite voracious as you drink from the body, bloodied fangs piercing through skin, and before it even registers, he’s whining for you.

Your shoes come into view and as he looks back up, he knows he’s been caught.

“Help me, please?” At that moment, Childe sounds too delectable, and coupled with the pleading way he’s looking at you, it seems that you crave something other than blood tonight too.

Your hands move to grab at his jawline, the sudden chill of your fingers against his skin makes his breath hitch and the way your sharpened nails graze him makes him all the more harder. Childe keens when your lips smash onto his, parting his mouth as you deepen the kiss, making him taste the lingering metallic tang of blood. 

His brain is a traitorous thing when it inserts himself into the place of the body. The visage of your arms cradling him as your fangs trace over the exposed skin of his neck, teasing before they sink in, when he could be all you think of, the visage burns behind his eyelids. Pulling away to allow Childe to catch his breath, his mind betrays him a third time when he doesn’t think and bites down hard on his own bottom lip before he captures yours again.

Instantly, his taste fills your mouth. It’s not often you manage to savour the blood of someone touched by the abyss. The flavour is intoxicating and you find yourself wanting more. As if by instinct, your hand supports the back of his head and he moans into your mouth as you kiss harder. 

Childe doesn’t know if he’s spurred on by the fact that you’re so taken by the taste of him other than that other lousy human or if it’s the hunger shining in your eyes. There’s a part of him that sings when the thought registers. The thought that he, his blood, has such an effect on you, amplifying your bloodlust a hundredfold, that he is addictive to you. That you want him.

Moving forward, he doesn’t bring you any more bodies. Instead, he just brings himself, and hopefully, he’d get a little lucky too.

Childe never backed down from a challenge, even if it meant being tamed by a literal creature of the night ♡

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟕𝟎𝟗: 𝑲𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒉 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Vampire!Kaveh ꒦꒷

A vampire Kaveh would be… a little pitiful. The thought of harming someone else goes against everything he stands for, let alone drinking someone else’s blood (even if the blood was obtained through honest, human-vampire-law-abiding, means.)

He resorts to drinking animal blood instead. It’s not the most satiating or nourishing but it’ll have to do. At least he doesn’t have to imagine a human face with a family tied to the bloody beverage he’s gulping down. However, it leaves him weak and prone to feeling faint at the most inopportune of times.

Times such as now, when Kaveh can’t find his keys again and he’s locked out of Alhaitham’s house and he desperately needs to drink but his blood stash is in the house and he can’t find Alhaitham anywhere. It’s not hard to see that your poor fellow vampire is spiralling when you open the door to your home that he’s been frantically pounding on.

You lead him inside, carefully setting him down on the couch since he was dangerously swaying back and forth while he walked. Kaveh and you go way back, so it’s not surprising that he seeks you out when he’s in need. You’re just so understanding, nothing like Alhaitham, and you’ve always looked out for him unceasingly all this time. His eyes catch how your hand is still supporting his arm from earlier and if his heart could beat, it would be fluttering right now.

“How long has it been since your last meal?” Shit, you’re grilling him and he’ll be dead twice over if you find out he hasn’t exactly been taking care of himself. He deflates pathetically in his seat before he mutters out his answer.

“A week and a half… maybe two…” His answer trails off and he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. He quickly tacks on an explanation for good measure when the silence drags on for too long and he can feel himself being simmered alive (undead?) in your gaze.

“M-my commissions haven’t been coming in and- and money is a little tight-” he sighs, “-before I even realised it, the amount of blood I have left was already running low…”

Your hand leaves his arm and the action has his head snapping back to look at you. He feels you rise from your seat next to him on the sofa and alarms blare in his mind. Did he say something wrong? He knows he should look after himself more, fuck, you don’t hate him now, right? He’s brought out of his thoughts when you push a cup into his twiddling hands.

“Drink up.” Kaveh looks up at you, expecting to see a disapproving frown. However, when all he can see is worry and concern on your face, he’s a little caught off guard.

“But isn’t it… human blood?” He’s sheepish when he asks this, brows knitted together.

“I’m sorry, but it’s all I have currently and you look like you’d faint if you don’t get something in your system right now.”

Even so, he doesn't budge, just holding the cup in his hands. Usually, the scent alone is enough to send hungry vampires into a frenzy. Judging by how hard he’s clenching it and how he’s definitely starving by now, you can tell he’s holding himself back. You don’t want to risk anything bad happening to Kaveh if you go out to buy a bag of animal blood right now so you press on.

“Is there any way I can convince you to drink it?”

Maybe it’s the spiralling state of mind he has, or the loopiness from the hunger, or that determined gleam you have in your eyes, but something weakens inside of him as he blurts out.

“Can you feed it to me? I don’ wanna think ‘bout who the blood came fr’m.”

His vision spins as you gently take the cup out of his hands. Why is the room spinning? Why are you getting closer?? 

Your lips meet his and suddenly his slurred words click in his mind. Eyes widening, he looks at you but he makes no move to push you away. He just leans into your touch when your hands cup his cheeks and as you part his lips, the taste of the blood hits him.

It’s been ages since he’s savoured this flavour, and with you kissing him too? He can’t stop a shiver from rocking through his body when your tongue enters his mouth, pressing his thighs together as he lets out a loud whimper. Your hand cards through his hair, messing up the blonde locks but he can’t find it in himself to complain, not when he’s practically melting in your arms. Now, it’s become less of trying to feed Kaveh before he dies, and more of making out with the closest companion you’ve loved all this time.

Filthy whines escape him as the initial exquisite flavour of blood mellows out, giving way to the taste of you. Did his fang accidentally pierce your tongue? He doesn’t have the power to think about it when all he can comprehend is you, the taste of your blood, the touch of your skin, your tongue down his throat. You override his every thought and he’s left craving. 

The intimate moment lasts for a bit more before you break apart. (To Kaveh, it felt like something between a split-second and his ever-eternal lifespan.) 

He’s still a little shaky, it’s obvious that that little mouthful of blood isn’t enough nourishment for him.

“Will you drink if you can only think of me while you do?”

Kaveh leaves your home glowing the next day. (He’s limping too but let’s not talk about that.)

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟒𝟑𝟎: 𝑫𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄 𝑹. ꒷꒦ Human!Reader x Vampire!Diluc ꒦꒷

It’s awfully gratifying to have the Diluc Ragnvindr, a noble of high vampire society, knelt at your feet, his hands held behind his back. You don't even need to bind his hands. Frankly, it wouldn't really do anything because of his supernatural strength. But, oh. There's something so delicious about him willing to keep his hands behind him just because you asked. The way you have him utterly wrapped around your finger... tantalising. 

You hold the wineglass of your blood above him and he instinctively shuffles in closer, a low whine leaving him before he even realises. As you tilt the cup towards him, his plush lips close on the rim, fervently lapping up what he can. He's terribly messy though. Tsk, and to think he's supposed to be high class.

The frenzied way he's drinking up your oblation, watching the crimson trickle past his lips, staining his pale skin such a dazzling red as it drips further down to his bobbing throat, he really is mesmerising. And what’s this? 

Your dear Diluc is rutting against your shoe, trying to get off while you’re so graciously feeding him. Greedy.

He’s panting in between gulps, his eyes unfocused as the lust building in him drives him mad. There’s a conscious part of his brain saying that he shouldn’t be trying to cum right now, you’re being so nice to him, but fuck, it feels sosososo good!

You think he’ll forgive you when you cruelly pull the cup away from him.

Immediately, a pitched whine rips from his throat, and he chases after your blood, eyes begging for you to return his sweet salvation. But Diluc thinks otherwise about opening his mouth to try to reason with you when he feels your foot against his crotch.

“I’ll let you drink again after you cum, hmm? It’s not good to be distracted while you eat.” 

His brain kicks into overdrive when the tip of your shoes presses down onto his dick, the pain bleeding into sinful pleasure. Diluc lets out a sharp hiss as you move your foot, teasing his length that’s straining behind his pants. He’s grinding his hard cock against the bottom of your shoe, the darkened patch of fabric growing and lewd moans slipping from his lips as he does so.

You can tell when he’s about to cum, his eyes are screwed shut and his moans become louder and more clipped, focusing more on the tempting heat rather than getting proper words out. Quickly, you take a mouthful of blood before you lean in and pull him in by the collar of his shirt.

The kiss is nothing shy of filthy, smearing blood on your lips and cheeks as he drinks desperately. He’s addicted to the heat of your mouth, your blood, on his skin, and the ravenous way you’re kissing him makes him feel like he’s the one being devoured instead. His neck is straining from being tilted upwards but there’s no other way he’d have you, as if it was only natural to have a powerful being like him on his knees at your side.

A hard press against the tip of his cock is what sends him off the edge. Cumming with a shout, he leans into your kiss, the hands he held behind his back all this time shooting forward to grasp at your thighs. Diluc shakes as he rides out his orgasm, groaning every time he ruts against your shoe.

Pulling away from him, his tongue lolls out of his mouth with a dazed expression on his face, as if he’s been fucked dumb. You drink in his appearance. He’s dishevelled, his usual tidy ponytail all tangled and messy, a wet patch at the front of his pants where he came in his pants. Diluc suppresses a shiver when he notices the swirling hunger in the gaze you regard him with, the roles of vampire and human so easily reversed and perverted by you.

Your lips shine with a saccharine sheen under the dim lighting as they part to ask him.

“And what do you say, Diluc?”

“Thank you.”

 It's safe to say that, unlike Diluc, your hunger isn't getting abated anytime soon.

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[beaniegaebie]

i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go

(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)

OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little

the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-

but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-

hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh

and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-

look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards

so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour

A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???

anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-

(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)

ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:

(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary

(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia

(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)

now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo

but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:

(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous

iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance

in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois

part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting

christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular

(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)

EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS

so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature

is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?

who knows, who cares!

[delcakoo]

pity party ₊˚ރ⊹゛p.sh

SUMMARY ! when everyone forgets sunghoon’s birthday, he ends up finding comfort from a warmhearted stranger on the bus ride home.

PAIRING ! stranger!sunghoon x gn!reader

WC ! 800

GENRE ! fluff, slight angst and comforting sad hoon :c

a/n: sorry it’s short, just a lil’ thing for our birthday boy <3

sunghoon’s eyes were getting watery, and he hated that. a lot.

his birthday isn’t a big deal, he isn’t twelve anymore; he should just be grateful for what he has, wipe away his cascading tears and man the hell up.

but as he slides onto the public bus and scans down the aisle full of exhausted college students, old drunkards, and middle aged mother’s gossiping on calls with their kids fidgeting frantically next to them, he can’t find himself caring when all their eyes lock onto his teary red face, pink bottom lip trembling as he sniffles every few seconds.

he makes his way down the column of busy seats, mindlessly plopping down onto the first free one he comes across. and at last, he reaches his hand up, wiping the salty droplets off his puffy cheeks sorrowfully.

god, he was being such a wimp.

before he could beat himself up any further, a hesitant soft voice abruptly interrupts him. “are.. are you okay?”

sunghoon whips his head to his left, brows rising at the sight of soft eyes glistening with worry and concern towards him, despite being a complete stranger.

you were attiring a puffy winter coat and a bright green scarf, one hand gripping onto the tote bag resting carefully by your chocolate shaded boots.

he gulps and wipes his face again, feeling even more humiliated with his current state. “y-yeah, thanks,” he barely voices out.

sunghoon watches in his peripheral vision as you continue to examine him, clearly having an inner debate on if you should leave the conversation at that. he almost began crying again at how cute you look in such deep thought.

you swallow, “what happened, if i may ask? ur— i mean, you don’t have to tell me obviously, but if you—“

“it’s okay,” he assures with a small smile. “it’s kinda stupid, anyway. just.. all- all my friends n’ stuff.. they forgot my birthday.” your eyes widen, heart breaking into pieces at his painful tone. “i mean, i don’t even care, seriously. i don’t know why i’m crying because it’s really not a big deal.”

it seems you could easily tell he was trying to convince himself more than you.

it’s silent for a beat, nothing but sunghoon’s faint sniffling surrounding the bus until you hesitantly reach over, placing your hand on top of his cold, shaky one. your fingers rub his knuckles, gently calming his distress with comforting glances.

sunghoon didn’t realise how touch starved he was; throat getting clogged as he bites his lip to prevent letting out another pitiful sob, watching the way your touches feather him as if he were a fragile vase.

suddenly, you speak up again rather confidently. “can i give you my number?”

he chokes, looking back up with widened eyes. “w-what?”

“so we can make a plan for tomorrow,” you explain. “for your birthday.”

you, a complete stranger that had just met him on probably one of the worst days of his life, wanted to celebrate his birthday with him? tomorrow?

before he can stop to think, he’s already pulled his phone out, dropping it into your grasp mindlessly as you begin making a new contact. sunghoon peers closely as you type in your name with a bus and crying emoji next to it, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

at the sound of laughter you look up, grinning proudly once you finally see his fanged smile. “you’re going to have the best birthday ever tomorrow…?” you look at him in question.

“sunghoon.”

“well sunghoon, i’m a master at baking cakes, specifically birthday cakes with chocolate fudge,” you declare, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

sunghoon doesn’t even like chocolate.

but at that moment he decides it’ll be his new favourite flavour in the world.

as he opens his mouth to reply and show his gratitude, the bus driver boisterously announces the next stop.

“shit,” you mutter, frantically standing up from your seat. “i’m so sorry, i wish i could’ve stayed with you longer, but this is my stop.” your face reflected genuine affliction; not wanting the poor boy to be alone just as he was for the rest of his special day.

sunghoon shakes his head, “no, no it’s fine. you- you already made me feel way better.”

your face brightens a bit, nodding as you achingly wave goodbye. “see you tomorrow.” you turn away, walking right to the front of the bus, tote bag hanging on your shoulder and wooly green scarf still tightly around your neck.

it felt like a last goodbye, like everything was in slow motion watching you leave him, even though he’d be seeing you tomorrow.

but right before you descend down the stairs, you gasp, turning around and making the other passengers frown in annoyance as you block their way.

“hey sunghoon!” you shout across the bus without a care in the world.

the boy in question gawks as you stare him down, eyes shimmering and a fond smile rushing to your chapped lips. “happy birthday!”

sunghoon’s eyes get watery again, but he hates it a bit less this time.

if you enjoyed, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

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[boop-le-snoot]

rickyl x reader blurb for @sinsandsweetness

cw: facesitting, human disaster rick grimes, teasing. 18+

without further ado,

Daryl's groan echoes throughout his room in the basement and bounces off the bare walls. The next noise is identical, but muffled. The fabric of her skirt rustles as he pushes it out of the way, tucking it sloppily into the waistband of her underwear- those, he doesn't bother removing. Just pushes the damp gusset to the side, fingers twitching from the hiss she releases as cool air meets the flushed lips of her cunt.

He doesn't waste precious seconds, just dives in. Nose smushed into the short tuft of her pubic hair, mouth enveloping both of her fat outer lips, nursing the essence off her like he would be sucking at the flesh of an overripe peach. Daryl hates those things - he's from Georgia, for fuck's sake, where everything is fucking peach flavoured - but she is just so sweet, so soft and sticky, he has problems with keeping his mouth off her most days. The meat of her ass plump under his rough palms.

He pushes at it, dragging her inner labia and clit along the seam of his mouth and she keens. The field of view is narrow - he can just about see the folded fabric of her top and the mounds of her heaving breasts, nipples poking through the cotton - but he can imagine. Her head thrown back, her bottom lip between her teeth. They've got the mostest privacy in the apocalypse in his basement but she is still so conscious of the noises she makes.

The noises he makes her make. Daryl flattens his tongue against her hard nub, flicking it with intent and precision. He wants, no, he needs to hear what she has been forced to hold back. His grip on her hips is bruising but it only eggs her on; experimentally, she rolls her hips over his mouth. Once, twice... he isn't sure who makes the low humming noise. Coulda be both of them, feeding off each other's desire.

“Baby, fuck, don't stop,” she pants through shallow breaths, the roll of her hips becoming a purposeful grind.

Daryl feels her skin protest to the drag of his coarse stubble. He'd gotten back from a long run just yesterday, had barely enough energy to rinse off the blood and grime and scarf down whatever stew that she had made with the Grimes' kids before he crashed down, hard. He is fully intent on making up for it, starting now.

Her hips stutter above him as more weight presses down on his chin; sticky cunt juice is pooling deep in his throat. He's drinking her straight from the source, swallowing her cunt with eager, too eager, gulps. If it sticks to the roof of his mouth, he'll suck it off his teeth just fine later. She grinds on him and he growls straight into her cunt, wraps his lips around her clit and sucks. Sweat gathers under his palms and in the spaces between her cunt and legs.

Her face must be flushed. Sweat dripping from her hair, clear droplets running down her face that he would stick out his tongue and lick, like a parched dog, whenever he gets to fuck her. The thought of her snug cunt enveloping his aching cock makes it pitifully twitch and release a dribble of precum into his boxers.

She's close. Daryl knows it because that's just who he is. Attentive, a hunter, a tracker. He tracks her upcoming release through the fluttering of the entrance to her cunt, through the pulsing blood rushing to her clit. The nub is hard in his mouth, he flicks it easily and with abandon. His neglected cock twitches in sympathy.

Suddenly, there is a creak. There are footsteps, wide, unhurried. Daryl knows those footsteps, is deeply familiar with them, and their sudden presence makes him pause. Somewhat stupidly - his nose is brushing her clit with every single inhale as quiet tremors run through her body. Made that much more obvious by how still he'd gotten under her.

“Listen, Dar-” Rick ends his speech as soon as it begins.

She shuffles in place, leaning on the back of the couch. From Rick's position near the entrance, she knows Rick can't see Daryl face-deep in her cunt. Rick can't see anything at all in the near-darkness, just her still-clothed chest and her stiff nipples.

“Where's Daryl?” Rick, while frowning, seems incredulous.

A silent chuff wafts over her cunt; Daryl's exasperation makes out in the form of a muted chuckle.

“Busy,” she replies without thinking, aware of the hoarseness of her own voice.

“Well I need 'em for a thing,” Rick shrugs and looks around again, as if Daryl would suddenly appear from one of the dark corners in the single, wide room. No luck for Rick, though: the object of his inquiry stays still and doesn't even try to hide his smile as he presses his wet mouth into the inside of her thigh.

She frowns. “Is it urgent?”

“Sorta,” Rick begins to eye her with suspicion. The cogs are turning in his head but the picture doesn't seem to be adding up. It is comical to see his eyebrows draw tight over his eyes. “So where is he?”

Before she has the chance to react, Daryl's strong hands make quick work of dragging her down his chest. He sits up, just enough to poke his head from behind the couch, his face shining wet even in the settling twilight. There is a wet spot lower now, too, on his stomach, where he so ungracefully dragged her sensitive cunt.

Rick's eyes bulge.

“Wha?” Daryl makes an attempt to wipe his mouth and unstick some of the unruly bangs from the mess but it just ends up making him look even more fucked. “Wha's so urgent dat ya had ta barge in here like dat?”

“Uh,” Rick replies eloquently, eyes stuck to the sheen on Daryl's face. Unconsciously, the sheriff licks his lips, and immediately looks away. “S'nothin', it can wait,” he finally says, yet makes no moves to leave.

She snorts. Quietly, under her breath, but the two men are just that good. Both are looking at her now, one embarrassed, one incredulous.

“Well then go or join in, I was just about to cum,” she rolls her eyes, letting the annoyance bubble up and pop on the surface. She was close, until someone so rudely interrupted her beeline for pleasure. She didn't push down and get on Daryl's face for nothin', after all.

It's Daryl's turn to snort. He does so as he's laying back down and adjusting his grip on her hips, ready to pull her back in. “Naw, Rick ain't like dat. He's ol-fashioned,” and it's just friendly banter, all bark and no bite in Daryl's voice, but Rick begins to walk before Daryl's even through with it. In his defense, Daryl seems only mildly perplexed.

Mostly, he's amused. And then his expression is obscured by her body as he drags her cunt back up to his face and begins slurping. Noisily. On fucking purpose.

“Oh,” she gasps, at nothing in particular. At the feel of Daryl's wet hot tongue gathering what's left of her arousal. At Rick's red lips tilting into a haughty smirk. At Rick's finger dragging along her lips.

His hands taste of motor oil, metal and gunpowder. She wraps her tongue around, applies gentle suction to the tip of his thumb. The flavour combination is known to her, by Daryl's own hand, but current configuration is vastly unfamiliar. She meets Rick's eyes and grinds down on Daryl's mouth, her weeping cunt doing exactly nada to silence his satisfied groan.

[babyisa1]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ chapstick game/ TOM

warnings: smut, pet names: „slut“, p in v, fingering, fluffy beginning but turns into heavy smut, multiple orgasms, overstimulation (with consent)

8:27pm

you entered the living room, finding tom leaning back on the couch in a manspread with a packet of skittles on his lap. „hey!! you didnt tell me you had those!“ you state, his head shooting up to meet your gaze as his hands fly towards the packet, protecting them.

you chuckle softly, walking towards him and slumping down on the couch next to him. „because you always eat the red ones! the red ones are my favorite!“ he replies, throwing his head back and chucking the last few skittles in his mouth.

you jokingly hit his chest, „youre such a fucking baby“ you giggle, toms eyes darting towards yours as he silently repeats what you said, mocking you. „mmf..whats behind your back?“ tom asks as he noshes on his skittles, referring to you having your arms behind you, holding something.

you grin, pulling put a small box of different flavoured chaptsticks that you brought from your shared bedroom. toms eyes gaze at it in confusion, then towards you.

„do you wanna play a game? ill apply a random chapstick, and you have to taste and guess what flavour it is through kissing me“ you explain with a bright smile, tom already having turned the tv off and paying his full attention towards you.

he nods his head vigorously, placing his hands over his eyes so he doesnt see which one you pick. you giggle, hes such a cutie. you randomly choose a chapstick before rubbing it on your lips.

you gently remove toms hands, leaning in to kiss him. you feel his body relaxing as he deepens the kiss, his hand snaking up behind you neck to pull you closer. he tugs your bottom lip, sucking on it sloppily to taste the chapstick.

you finally pull away, leaving tom all flustered as he licks his lips, gazing at you lustfully.

„mmm i like this one.. is it coca cola?“ he says as his eyes wander down your body, your cleavage almost spilling out of your skimpy top. it took all his willpower to not just end the game right there and pin you down, but he stood strong, partly to see how long he could last.

your face lit up, „yes! good job schatz“ you praise, completely unaware of toms growing need that was tightening his pants. tom sends you a proud smirk, his hand sneaking up your soft thigh as he rubs it sensually.

you pick another chaptstick while tom patiently waited with his eyes closed, this time its vanilla. you smear it over your lips before moving closer to him, kissing his warm lips gently.

his hand flies to the back of your neck again, deepening the kiss as he darts his tounge into your mouth, lapping his wettness around yours. the kiss turns sloppy, tom softly groaning into your mouth as his willpower to hold back slowly slips away.

you couldnt ignore the burning feeling between your legs, causing you to let out shaky breaths as you run your hands gently from his shoulders to his biceps. you momentarily remember the game, it having completely left your mind.

you finally pull away, your lips swollen and wet from making out with him. „so tom, whats your gue-”

you were cut off by tom slamming his lips back onto yours, kissing you harshly. „msorry,“ tom muffles in between kisses, „m‘not sure which flavour.. need another taste“

you moan softly into the kiss as tom grabs your ass and swiftly pulls you towards him and onto his lap. you both were clearly happy with moving on from the game, no longer ignoring the throbbing between your legs.

you grind against his crotch, earning a low groan from him as his hands grip your hips, helping you to build your pace. you harshly tug back on his dreads/braids to gain more access to his neck, attacking it with open mouth kisses.

you find his sweet spot just below his ear, sucking on it harshly. „fuuck.. youre driving me insane y/n“ tom mewls, grinding his hips more forcefully up into yours. your lips latch off of his neck with a pop, revealing a dark purple mark.

tom swiftly finds the hem of your tight top, pulling it up over your head to reveal your perky breasts. „what a fucking slut.. no bra hm?“ tom breaths out, his eyes fixated on your nipple piercings. you knew they drove tom absolutely crazy, he would play with them every chance he got since the day you got them pierced.

you smirk lustfully, your jaw quickly hanging low as tom wraps his lips around one of your nipples, using his hand to play with the other. the grinding of your hips doesnt stop and you let out a croaked moan when your panties tug deliciously on your clit.

„mm..so fucking hot“ tom mumbles, his tounge playing with the bud as your head lolls back, a wave of pleasure shooting through you.

his lips detach from your breast as you feel his hot breath against your nipple, swollen and glistening wet in his saliva. you reach for the hem of his shirt, struggling to pull it off him.

tom cuckles at your desperation, it admittedly hardening his buldge even more. he pulls it off him, revealing his toned body, your mouth watering at the sight.

„you like what you see?“ tom taunts, beginning to undo his belt. you nod, lifting yourself slightly so he could slide his pants down, revealing the tent in his boxers. tom groans, the less restraint on his cock clearly having an effect on him. you could tell how sensitive he was.

his fingers hook around your panties, harshly ripping them off. „tom!! those were expe-” „shut up, ill buy you new ones.. fuck“ tom cuts you off, his eyes fixated on your now bare and drenched cunt.

his cold fingers glide through your warm folds, causing you to jolt in reaction. his thumb rubs slow circles against your clit as his fingers prod at your entrance. you whimper slightly, grinding your hips against his fingers clearly seeking more friction.

and to your satisfaction, tom slips two fingers into your hole, his muscle memory kicking in as his fingers curl perfectly against that gummy spot inside of you. you moan, gripping onto his shoulders for stability as he repeatedly thrusts his fingers inside you.

„god.. so fucking tight“ tom breaths out, picking up his pace as the soft squelching noises coming from your cunt become louder. the fire in your stomach increases, and you clench around his fingers signalling you are about to cum. but just as you were about to release, tom retracts his fingers, causing you to snap your eyes open in confusion.

before you could protest, tom pulls down his boxers, freeing his cock as it springs out. although you both have fucked countless times before, you still find yourself impressed with the size and girth of it. your hand could only just about wrap around the base of it, feeling the bulging veins that decorated his whole cock.

your soft fingers reach for the tip, smearing the pre cum that was leaking from it all over his shaft for extra lubrication. toms cock twitched in response, his chest heaving up and down heavily.

you lift yourself, aligning him with your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. his hands fly to your waist, gripping it so tightly that it would for sure leave marks. tom lets out a prolonged groan; „fuuuck..“ he stammers, throwing his head back as he feels your warm walls clench around him.

your ass finally meets his hips, his whole cock dissapearing inside of you. your cheeks flush bright red at the feeling, gripping his shoulders tighter.

after the burning feeling of him stretching you out subsides, you lift yourself up again, before forcefully slamming yourself down on his cock. „jesu- fuck!“ you shout out, building a fast pace.

one thing you loved about tom, was that he didnt try to hide his sounds like most guys. right now he was a whimpering mess beneath you, his eyebrows furrowed as you fucked yourself down on him.

you mixed your bounces with grinding forward slightly, attempting to hit your favorite spot harsher. you let out a highpitched moan, your pace not faltering. tom could feel the heat pooling in his lower back, the erotic sight of you could make him cum on the spot.

tom has always been possesive, only he could see you like this. feel you like this. hear your moans like this. anyone who dared to look your way would feel the consequences, which were toms fist. but you didnt mind, totally the opposite. this turned you on to the max, making him more hot than he already was, if that were even possible.

„fuck! mgonna cum!“ you whimper, your pace becoming inconsistent. tom takes notice of this, helping you bounce on his cock through lifting you slightly with his hands. „me too..shit- dont stop baby“ tom managed to blurt out, your orgasm crashing down on you as you almost scream, your body shuddering. you clenching around his cock sends him into his, shooting ropes of his hot cum into you.

„god- oh fuck“ tom moans, fucking his cum into you while riding out your highs in the process, a ring of cum forming at the base of his cock. just as you thought you could rest, tom pulls you into a tight hug, your chest flush against his as he lifts his lower body of the couch and drills himself into you, chasing another orgasm.

„ugh- too much!“ you stammer, your arms locked in place on your sides as toms grip around you didnt loosen. all you could do was rest your forehead on his shoulder, focusing on the pleasure rather than the pain from the overstimulation.

„cmon baby, just one more“ tom cooes, his hot breath on your ear sending goosebumps up your body.

while thrusting into you, your combined fluids drip out of you and onto his shaft, sticking to his lower abdomen each time he rams his cock upwards, causing wet slapping noises. the pain slowly bled into pleasure, and your moans powered tom to keep his rough pace, despite his legs growing tired.

„cum!“ you manage to shout, the immense pleasure preventing you to build proper sentences as you signal tom that youre about to come undone. once again, toms ecstasy coats your walls, both of your orgasms washing over you.

„fuck- sho good!“ tom mewls, his hips shuddering from the intense pleasure. you collapse on top of him, his cock still inside you. you both lay there breathless, recovering from some of the best sex youve ever had.

tom gently rubs up and down your sides lovingly; „shit,“ he breaths out, „you good baby?“ he asks, stroking your hair out of your face that stuck on it through your sweat.

„yeah.. fuck that was amazing tom“ you sigh out, regaining your composure. tom chuckles, „mhm..that was probably the best fuck weve ever had“ he states, his head leaning back on the sofa as he strokes your hair.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

i lowk love this?? hope u enjoyed :)

edit: tysm for 86 likes wtf?? :0

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

summary: we’re still in america 🗣️ . let’s party with nadia, shall we?

warnings: outfit descriptions, cussing, social media environment, slight jealousy, typos, links to tag are down below and let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

saint’s team radio 🎀: let’s not talk about how long overdue this chapter is, okay? 🫶🏽 hope you guys enjoy and i hope y’all missed Lewdia as much as i did!

pls like, comment and reblog!

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

pic cred: pinterest. dividers: @cafekitsune

-

With the jingle of the house keys, the pair laughed into the night as Nadia carried her heeled boots in her hand. Lewis held onto her as she was on his back, his kind self offering to carry her since they left the arena.

"Out of all the songs they could've used, why'd they choose old school Drake when we showed up on the jumbotron?" She chuckled, removing the last of her tears of laughter with her thumb. "Nah, I'm still on the baby who wouldn't let go of you during halftime. Your jewellery was like the most interesting toy ever." He smiled at the memory, someone randomly handing Nadia their baby and started taking pictures.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that many cameras around me. The kids back at work are gonna have so much to say.” She admitted, watching the large front door open up and the entry hall greeted them. Nadia tapped his shoulder and he took that as sign to let her get on the ground. “Thank you for the piggy back ride, Sir.” She smiled and turned on her secret sock covered heel to enter the house.

He’ll never admit how much he loves when she calls him sir. Maybe one day he will, maybe he won’t.

Although sad that Roscoe wasn’t there to greet them due to him getting to be with his other dog friends, Nadia pushed that to the back of her mind and thought of her Gucci sandals for the comfort of her feet. “If we ever go anywhere where you know i’ll be cheering, please remind me to take my sandals with me.” She said out loud, slowly heading upstairs when an idea popped into her head.

The night was barely over and ending it so awkwardly didn’t sit well with Nadia.

“I have a feeling that you’re plotting something.” He stated, standing still waiting to hear what she could possibly come up with.

“Would you be up for ice cream right now?” She smiled while turning around to face him from the bottom stairs.

“At this time? Wouldn’t most shops be closed by now?” Lewis asked, confused by the idea but he knew he didn’t want to decline it.

“We could take a drive to find out,” The smile on her face was mischievous. “The night is way too young for us to come back from a game and sit in the house in silence.” She continued.

After a beat of silence, he had made his decision. “Let’s go change and you’re driving.” Lewis gave in. He felt it was right to let Nadia lead such activities, getting her used to such a busy lifestyle.

She walked out of the guest room with a basic athle-leisure romper and the same simple gold jewellery from earlier and her uggs were hugging her feet. “Hey Lew? Do you have a hoodie I could borrow?” She called out as she reached his room door that wasn’t closed all the way. Although not answering her, he walked out with a hoodie that smelled exactly like him, seemingly from Dior. Only written “CD” on the top left of the hoodie and just like she preferred all her hoodies, it was oversized.

“Dior? Are you crazy? I could stain this.”

“We have a laundry room downstairs, Nads. I could always buy another one and the whole store for you.” He slightly smirked.

“If that’s not the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She jokingly put her hand on her chest and they burst into laughter a few seconds after.

Sitting in the almost empty ice cream shop, Sweet Oasis, the two were on their second sugarcone bowl of their respective ice cream flavours. Nadia with cookies and cream and Lewis with vegan vanilla. The first round of desserts were deemed free by the all too excited cashier who was a big fan of Lewis.

“So in hindsight, Mission 44 is to help uplift the youth into STEM spaces including f1. Man, that’s so cool and to hear it growing so fast makes me feel proud.” Nadia nodded as she played around with her ice cream.

“Thank you, I really want to expand even further in different countries such as Brazil and surprise surprise, South Africa.” He chuckled at her face once mentioning her country of origin. “You’re already in my good books, Sir. Once you meet my friends and Rea then maybe you’ll be in the top five.” Nadia smiled, biting down on the wooden spoon.

“What are your friends like? Feel like I have to prep myself to meet them.” Lewis joked by moving his shoulders around. “They’re really cool and incredibly funny. They tried their best to make me famous but looks like I did that all by myself.” She teased.

Taking another bite of the ice cream, she spoke again. “The boys will try and intimidate you, especially Chunks and Filly. The girls will be welcoming, just always bring chocolate with you.” Nadia informed him, smiling at the thought of her friends.

“Then Rea is like my child although she’s my cousin. She’s gonna stay with my mom while she finishes year 12 but I think I might just take her in, I miss her too much.” She said, not wanting to let him know all about the tension with her mom just yet.

Looking at the McLaren that Nadia drove to the ice cream shop, Lewis could tell that she wanted to switch topics because of the tone in her voice and her completely avoiding eye contact with him.

“Do you want to talk about something else?” He asked and all she did was nod. She mouthed a thank you to him afterwards, feeling herself become safe with him. “So we’ve got quite the week ahead of us. Rhode, Hailey Bieber’s skin company, is hosting a party and we were invited.” He spoke.

“You wanna give me a heart attack or something, dude? I’m gon’ be around the Biebers? I still haven’t recovered from Beyoncé!” She replied, whispering the last words to him so that the few people around them wouldn’t be able to hear them.

He grinned at her reaction, her dramatic excitement along with her smile that she would always try hide would always make him feel something in his heart. He didn’t want to think that far. Lewis wouldn’t allow himself to think that far.

“Then the big news that Tia shouted at me to tell you is that we’re going to a Versace event in Cannes on Tuesday I think. Then it’s the Monaco gp which is a spectacle on its own.” He informed then chuckled at her putting her head in her hands.

“Your surprises are going to send me to the hospital one day, what do you mean Versace? That’s like a lifelong dream for me, dude.” She expressed, not sure whether to feel excited about experiencing all of these things or terrified for the busy schedule.

Finishing the last of his ice cream, he pushed the cup to the side and held out both his hands towards Nadia. Taking the sign to put her hands in his, he held them tightly. “Are we bout to pray right now? It’s a little too late for that, the ice cream’s done.” Nadia joked, looking i between their hands and his face.

“Nads.” Lewis started. “Sorry, serious stuff now.” The man couldn’t resist the smile on his face as she joked around, revealing more of her personality to him.

“My life gets incredibly busy, even I get exhausted. So, you don’t have to be everywhere with me. It would be cool to see how you do things while we’re at all these events but you need your time to yourself, y’know?” He continued.

Nodding her head, she spoke up. “Yeah no, I get you. It’ll take some time to get used to everything and I don’t mind the travelling, you’re cool to be…around. Pookie, we gotta go.” Nadia’s eyes were concentrated on whatever was going on behind Lewis.

“Don’t look back, they’ll know we’re watching them. Let’s just get up and go to the car.” Nadia said, still holding his hands and she put on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

And as she said, the pair stood up and threw away their trash, saying goodbye to the worker whilst ignoring the flashes from the large window shops. She lifted her hood before walking out the door that Lewis opened for her and the flashes tripled. Looking at her husband, he already had his sunglasses on and dug in his pocket to give her the car keys.

Once in the McLaren, the car front was surrounded by the paparazzi but the tinted windshield gave them a little bit of privacy. In the driver’s seat, Nadia took out her phone and connected her phone to the car after igniting the engine. “Have you heard of Amapiano?” She asked him, watching him get comfortable being the passenger.

“Uh, kinda. Why?”

“Wanna take a lil drive and listen to it?” And there was her mischievous smile once again. Before he could get his answer out, different beats started playing until the beat started to flow and the artist started singing in a different language that Nadia clearly knew very well.

Rolling down the windows a bit, she reversed the supercar and drove off, leaving the paparazzi speechless.

-

nadiahamilton

liked by lilymhe, nataliatheedon and 484,828 others

nadiahamilton rhode ready &lt;3

view all comments

loriharvey i’m actually obsessed with you, i can’t wait to meet you

nadiahamilton i’m too excited

lewishamilton you’re so welcome for me curling the back of your head

nadiahamilton sleep with one eye open, pookie 🫶🏽

user blasting amapiano at night while driving to you is cool?

nadiahamilton it’s one of the best things i’ve ever done

user it’s just unnecessary publicity

nadiahamilton you wanted to be in the car with me, didn’t you?

justineskye your face card is insane, i’m hyperventilating

nadiahamilton that’s all you 🥹

user mother

user it’s still weird that you guys are here praising a woman who spawned out of nowhere

user like why is no one talking about this???

user it’s very simple. they’re married and she’s only showing herself to the public now

haileybieber i want to be your mirror, just stare at you forever

lewishamilton that’s what i’m there for!

beyonce 💗

user WAIT WAITTTT HOW TF

user THERE’S NO WAY BEYONCÉ COMMENTED

user NADIA YOU BETTER SPILL

nataliatheedon 5,6,7 what?!

amarawinston ATEEEE

charlotteparks my friend is so super stunning

nadiahamilton awww you guysss 🤭

user idk what he sees in her, she barely is dressed

yungfilly come back to the UK nads, it isn’t the same ☹️

nadiahamilton i willllll, i’m just doing stuff with my husband 😝

chunkz tell him to come back as well 🫵🏽

lewishamilton 👋🏾

chunkz ay big ups brotha, the champion 🙏🏽

nadiahamilton chunkz pls 😭😭😭

user does anyone know if she’s got a studio for styling??

user i actually don’t know if she does

centralcee not yet, she works through emails and shit

user and how tf would YOU know

ajshabeel alr, pack it up cench 😐

user WHAT’S THE BEEF? THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING

user please come back home to south africa 🇿🇦

nadiahamilton ofc i will 🥹

versace 🪩💗

-

“How do you do that? So easily too?” Lewis questioned as he read through her instagram comments. The way she casually spoke to everyone as if they were long time friends was absolutely fascinating to watch.

“It’s a technique I learned from my kids. I always want them to be comfortable in class especially when it’s a tough topic like post-Renaissance.” She shrugged her shoulders like it was nothing and continued to fluff her hair a bit more.

The two, coincidentally, were matching in colours. Nadia’s corset wasn’t too tight but it complimented her jewellery and she felt comfortable wearing such short shorts because the high top Rick Owen sneakers were just the right fit. Her Dior saddle bag sat next to her as they rode in the back of the Escalade.

And of course, they were both wearing their grillz.

“Thank you for introducing me to Amapiano fully. I can’t get any of the songs out of my head.” He said, constantly bouncing his hands on his legs to whatever beat he was thinking of. “It’s addictive! I told you, sthandwa.” She smiled softly but didn’t see him whip his head towards her.

“…What?”

“Oh! It’s a term of endearment from South Africa, it means ‘love’ then sthandwa sami is like my love. Just like how you brits say love.” Nadia explained. Lewis definitely heard everything she said but he was hooked on how she said it. If he thought that hearing songs with her native language was addictive, he could most definitely get used to hearing her speak it.

“Just to clarify, it’s Zulu. Whereas in Sotho, it’s something completely different. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you so that you don’t fuck up when we go to sa.” She chuckled but then stopped in her tracks.

“That’s if we do ever visit, don’t want to be too forward.”

“Of course we’re going to South Africa, are you kidding? I feel like I’ve just discovered a whole new world.” Lewis assured, basically jumping in excitement.

“What have I created?” Nadia joked to herself.

-

Although she knew that this was Hailey’s event and she knew that it was going to be full, Nadia didn’t expect it to be this full.

Leaning into Lewis as they walked through the crowd of paparazzi and hired photographers, she turned to him a little more. “I feel severely underdressed with my sneakers.” She worried. “You look amazing though, your feet are still not fully healed from yesterday right?” Lewis asked as discreet as possible.

“I mean I knew damn that I wasn’t going to wear heels because of yesterday.” She replied, waving to the photographer calling her and Lewis’ name. All of this was very weird. It felt weird to just be called by paparazzi.

“Exactly, so you’re cool. As long as you feel comfortable and you feel good, then I’m good.” He reassured her.

Before she could answer, they had reached the door and there was a girl standing with cocktails on the tray she was holding. They thanked her but politely declined to it and entered and the atmosphere inside was lively.

The colour scheme for Rhode was beige and other earthy colours which fit the aesthetic perfectly of the decor of the event. Sow r&b music was playing quite loudly while everyone in attendance was talking amongst themselves. As soon as her and Lewis stepped foot inside, many people’s attention went to him and Nadia.

Squeezing his hand a bit tighter, Nadia and Lewis made eye contact and he slightly relaxed because she looked calm but obviously a little nervous.

“Oh my God! The Hamiltons are here!” Someone shouted in a singsong voice and as Nadia was trying to identify who was that, Hailey Bieber and Lori Harvey appeared right in front of them with the the biggest smile on their faces. “Oh my goodness, welcome to Rhode! I’m so excited to see you guys and,” Hailey gasped as she took a look at Nadia.

“Nadia! You’re so beautiful, whoa. Where are my manners? I’m Hailey!” “And I’m Lori and girl, I was serious when I said i’m obsessed with you.” They introduced themselves and their smiles were damn near blinding. “It’s nice to meet you guys, this is exciting.” She smiled, grateful that they couldn’t see how nervous she was.

“Okay okay so let’s go take pictures now then I’ll introduce the products then we party!” Hailey said all too enthusiastically. In all of this, Lewis watched as Nadia interact so gracefully with the same people she was nervous to meet and he couldn’t help but feel proud of her and how she handled everything.

After taking photos with everyone and meeting Justine who damn near fainted at seeing Nadia in front of her, they were seated on their own little table just like everyone and were served hors d’oeuvres during the presentation of the skincare brand.

“How are you feeling?” Lewis leaned in and whispered as one of the products were being shown.

“I’m good, feeling much better. Wasn’t expecting so much love from the girls today.” She leaned over to him as well, careful to not make a noise for other guests.

“I knew they’d love you. And maybe you work with them in the future?” He mentioned, noticing her head resting on his shoulder so he moved a little closer where she could be more comfortable.

“When I get my own studio or truly advertise myself to such a crowd.” She replied. He nodded and she felt it, making her smile a little. “I have the strongest of feelings that there’s an after party when this is all done.” Nadia said, slightly lifting her head to look around the crowd that looked it was ready to party.

“Yup, it’s at their house. It’s like 5 minutes away from home so whenever you want to leave, we can.” And there go the butterflies in her stomach.

-

Walking into the Bieber’s home and seeing how it came alive, Nadia felt like she was in a movie. People who she always thought she would be lucky to see in person were introducing themselves to her and greeted her husband with the most excitement she’s ever seen.

After ‘settling in’ and finding a designated sitting spot to come back to from the dance floor, Nadia could be seen having the time of her life singing lyrics to the group of girls she met earlier including Jordyn Woods. The music shifted from hiphop to Afrobeats and the energy in the whole room was ignited.

Random people that she didn’t know started partying with her and hyped her up after each song. Once Amapiano started rolling in, all eyes were on her as she was dancing but didn’t want to use all her energy. With only a shot in her system, she started feeling rather thirsty and knew that it was time to go sit with her.

As she walked towards their table, she watched as Lewis danced in his seat at the song she was playing earlier in the day. “Now I have to take you to SA. Look at you shimmying.” She laughed as she flicked her hair back and sat next to him on the couch.

“Look at me? You were the party! Miles calls you Ms Party.” He laughed as Nadia saw where he pointed at and there was Miles and Amara but her eyes were closed. “Miles! Hey, damn it’s like i haven’t seen you in forever!” She greeted, opening the water bottle that Lewis saved for her. “And what’s up with Amara? Is she good?”

“I just got here with Amara and she ate two edibles on the way so she’s sleepy.” He smiled, not moving much as Amara was laying on him. “And Abel says hi.” Lewis said, tapping Nadia’s shoulder to catch his attention.

“Abel? As in Abel ‘The Weeknd’?” Nadia asked, gulping her water down as soon as she realised. All Lewis did was nod and just smile at her, their faces quite close already.

“Damn. Let me go find Justine, she got chocolate for me somewhere-” Nadia’s sentence was cut off short because she stood up and bumped into someone. She was still close to the table so she held onto the small table for balance.

Looking up, she saw a tall white man with a very obnoxious smile and recognised his face to be Jack Harlow. “Oh damn, I’m sorry, Ma. I really should watch where I’m going.” Jack apologised, reaching for her left hand and held it in her hand to hold in between his hands.

With her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes watching this man’s actions, she didn’t bother to answer him. “Don’t you feel the ring on my hand?” She fired at him with all lifted brow.

“You’ve got rings all over your hands and by the way, they’re quite soft, damn.” He straightened up his posture to feel on her hand even more. “What’s your name, Ma?” Jack asked with a dopey smile.

Feeling a hand circle her entire waist, she felt her body being pulled down and landed on something that didn’t feel like the couch. Looking down, Nadia was sat on Lewis’ lap. His lap and his hand was still on her waist quite securely.

“Go on, say your name love. He wants to know.” Lewis’ husky voice traveled through your ears and brought chills down your spine.

“Nadia Hamilton.” She managed to get out, shimmying her hand out of Jack’s hold to formally shake his hand. The white man’s face dropped at the sight in front of him. He really tried to flirt with a legendary f1 driver’s wife.

All Jack could muster up the strength to do was nod. “I’ll catch y’all later, it was nice meeting you guys.” He pursed his lips together and walked away.

Turning her head towards Lewis’ face, she resisted the urge to smirk. Deciding to be a little messy, she made herself comfortable on his lap and moved a bit, feeling an even tighter squeeze on her waist.

“You’re gonna be jealous of a lil white boy?” She teased but his smirk could not be wiped off his face. “Never that, Mrs Hamilton.” He responded, knowing he succeeded because she looked away as she was blushing.

“I’m so happy I was awake to see that.” Amara whispered to Miles as they watched their friends catch feelings for each other in real time.

nadiahamilton

liked by bellahadid, sza and 826,828 others

nadiahamilton miss party

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user i’ve never suffered from fomo like this before

user i wish i was an influencer rn

kehlani what can one do to party with you

nadiahamilton come to next week’s race 🫵🏽

kehlani already got the tickets 😝

fencer MISS PARTY 🗣️🗣️

nadiahamilton is this nickname going to stick?

spinzbeatinc you know it!

haileybieber you’re so much fun ily

nadiahamilton ily!!

loriharvey is this a sign to take a girl’s trip to sa?

justineskye i hope so!

ryandestiny can i come? it looked so fun

jordynwoods i’ve already got my bags PACKED

theestallion count me in, i’ll get to know you on the plane ride baby 😝

lewishamilton sthandwa sami 🕺🏽💗

nadiahamilton 😚🫶🏽

user HOW DOES HE KNOW ZULU???

user he’s got a Zulu wife bro

user this is so shocking to see 😭

user this better be a public holiday when they come over

niko now come back and party with us

nadiahamilton can you give me like a week?

ohnosharky this needs a celebration

nellarose_ Nadia’s homecoming if you will!

kingkennytv ‼️‼️‼️

student now you HAVE to spill the tea with us in class

nadiahamilton ugh fine 🙄

amarawinston 🪩🪩🪩🪩

user i was a server at the rhode event and omg you’re gorgeous in real life 😭

nadiahamilton thank you my angel 🤍

user i was a server too and since nobody’s saying it, you’ve got an ASS on you ma’am (i’m a girl)

nadiahamilton tears thank you 🤭

saint’s team radio 🎀 (once again): my fingers hurt from typing. Hope you enjoyed! Lewdia rises once again!

tags: new post

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts II

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V• Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

***

What a jackass! Months of not seeing you, and all he had to say was ‘glad you’re back?!’ Seriously? Watching him walk away so nonchalant made your blood boil, he was a player. What did you expect? He wasn’t gonna drop to his knees and start sobbing! It was dumb if you to even have hopes of him doing that. You glared at the closed office door, hoping he would trip over a stone and scrape his knees. Yes, it was childish, but scraping your knees hurts! You opened your juice, sipping it while cursing Jungkook out in your mind.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun again, “Is the juice good?” V asked with a small smile.

You nodded happily, drinking even more. The question stood in your mind, how did they know it was your favourite drink? You hadn’t told any of them apart from Jungkook…oh my god. OH MY GOD! Was he still thinking about you?! No, there’s no way, all he thinks about is getting his dick wet, he was not thinking about you. It was probably just a mix up with a flavour. V continued with the tattoo, mentioning that you’d have to come back for a second round to do the colouring and final touches. You agreed, wanting to finally have the tattoo finished. Time went by and a woman walked into the parlour, she was wearing a black latex looking skirt with a matching top, fishnets and some funky looking heels. She was his next client? Good god. Listen, you weren’t one for being insecure. You loved your body! It was amazing! But looking at the woman that just walked in, you couldn’t help but compare yourself just a little bit. She had the ‘perfect body,’ almost no body hair, an hour glass shape, perfect face (probably because of Botox), she was the ideal woman. So watching Jungkook step out of his office and lean on the doorway, smirking at her, made me know that it wasn’t just a touch up that was about to happen. I groaned and looked at V, “Am I almost done…?” “Yep! Just gonna wipe it down with an alcohol wipe and tape you up, then you’re free to go.” He smiled politely at you, which you returned. You luckily finished just before the moans echoed through the parlour, the woman from before, moaning and screaming for Jungkook. You made a small face of disgust, walking to the front desk to pay. RM gave you a sympathetic look, setting up the machine so you could pay. The worst part, was that you could hear his grunts. The grunts he used to make when he fucked you, when he touched you, when he ate you out, even when you bent over to pick something up. Now you’re realizing that you weren’t that special to him. You were a quick fuck and drop. After paying, you walked out of the parlour, a sense of rage present in your gut. Who the hell did he think he was? Honestly, he will never find someone to love forever. He'll always be a player. *** “Is that even sanitary?” Lindsay asked as you guys walked to the bar. You’d came home and told her about your adventures at the tattoo parlour. You weren’t sure if she was treating you to drinks because she felt bad for you, or if it was because she needed to wipe away the vivid picture you painted for her of Jungkoon fucking a woman in his office. You shrugged, stopping in front of the bar, pulling the door open. “I don’t think he’d care even if it wasn’t. Such an asshole…” You mumbled, getting seats at the bar top. You ordered your drinks, a gin and tonic and a dirty Shirley, waiting for the bartender to make them, Lindsay nudged you.

“Look at Mr Hottie over there! God, I’d let him bend me over the bar and fuck me.” She said proudly, biting her bottom lip.

You almost choked on your spit, “I’m sorry, wHaT? Lindsay, you can’t just go around saying that!”

She leaned back and smiled at you, “Come on! I haven’t been fucked in a good while, my vibrators not cutting it anymore! I need a real dick.” Turning her head, she smiled at the guy, winking.

“I thought you were here to drink with me, not get fucked by some random guy.” The drinks came and you instantly drank some, you had a feeling this was gonna be a long night. Grabbing her drink, Lindsay smiled at you once again, walking in the direction of the guy. You groaned and leaned your head on your hand, mixing your drink. Maybe it was from the day, but the gin didn’t feel strong enough. After about 30 minutes, you turned to look at your friend, but not to your surprise, she was gone and so was the guy. “Hope you have a nice fuck.” You mumble to yourself. “Thank you, I will.” The voice caught you off guard, making you jump and turn your head. Jesus Howard Christ. Jungkook smirked down at you, leaning on the bar top. “It was nice seeing you again today. Still looking good.” You didn’t reply, don’t speak to the devil, he’ll hurt you. You sipped your drink in silence, trying not to pay attention to the muscular man beside you. “Come on, you could at least say hi.” “You can at least tell me when you decide to cheat.” You shot back, angrily. Damn it, where’s Lindsay when you need her? “Woah, woah, woah, I never cheated.” Jungkook replied, grabbing his scotch on the rocks. “We were never together, so technically I didn’t actually cheat on you.” Was he serious right now? “Oh, sorry, my bad. I was a fuck toy.” Your jaw clenched, hand gripping the glass of gin and tonic tightly. You could see him smirk from the corner of your eye, “You were a good fuck toy. Always let me use your pretty pussy…fuck you so good. Bet you haven’t had good dick since.” “I’ve had plenty of dick, many that've topped yours.” You snarked back, god, where was your buffer? What happened to ignoring him? And what was with all the lies? “Sure you have. Speaking of, where’s that friend of yours? Did she dump you for dick?” He was trying to get a ride out of you….it was working. “No, she escaped before you came. God blessed her today, but I unfortunately haven’t had his graces placed upon me yet.” You could hear him chuckle lowly, his laugh was deep and husky…fuck, it was hot. “Come on, Y/N, we both know you don’t worship god. You like to worship me when you’re on your hands and knees, waiting to be fucked like a good girl.” He whispered in your ear, using that soft but husky voice you liked. Why’d he have to say your name? Why couldn’t he have kept his stupid mouth shut? “That’s in the past. I’m never going to stoop to a level so low ever again.” Grabbing your bag, you placed a $20 bill on the bar top, paying for you and your friend’s drink. You pushed by Jungkook and made your way to the exit. The air outside was refreshing, something you craved after being stuck in there with Jungkook and his sweet smelling cologne. When you were walking away, your name was called, but you knew it was him. You weren’t gonna answer this time. Not now, not ever again.

Taglist: @talyaaas-blog

[hitlikehammers]

a Valentine's-flavoured cuddly-loose-lipped-secret-spilling-hopped-up-on-cold-medicine!Eddie

(and his ever-devoted boyfriend Steve who he's been crushing on since high school but that part's a secret was a secret)

for @thoroughlycollected: featuring the (actually kind of horrible) way schools would sell carnations for $1 or something for Valentine's Day to anonymously deliver to your crush

It turns out that Eddie under the influence comes in a variety of flavors.

High Eddie is languid, touchier than he’s normally prone to which is fucking saying something, and weirdly philosophical. He talks about alternate universes beyond the Upside Down as a meta-something concept. He theorizes how maybe he died in another dimension but some weird particle-subversion-something-something-whatever couldn’t survive re-sublimation in the Right-Side-Up and honestly when the big-brain bullshit skirts the edges of Eddie’s mortality Steve is here for all of none of that part, because Eddie’s heart was beating under Steve’s hands the whole goddamn time, sometimes maybe coaxed by Steve’s hands but from the moment Steve found him and Dustin to the moment he let go at the hospital he didn’t not feel Eddie’s heart beating, and he knew that not least because he would have come apart at the seams if that’s happened, he would have crumbled entirely for losing, or almost-losing, or thinking even close to losing the potential, the promise between them they’d barely skirted but that’d rooted heavy and at home in Steve’s chest already and fuck, fuck—

When Eddie philosophizes in general usually Steve just hangs on his every word, mesmerized by the beauty of him top of bottom, inside and out: somehow all Steve’s. But when his philosophizing leans toward that Steve’s own heartbeat does some weird shit that the weed can’t claim whole credit for and he grabs Eddie hard every time and kisses him until he’s dizzy with it, until they both are, until Eddie’s reduced just to blinking for at least five whole minutes and by that point High Eddie’s on to another topic altogether.

Which is for the best.

By comparison: Drunk Eddie is a lovelorn bastard, a little bit teary with it sometimes even, but always clingy and a touch extra possessive, sappier than he gets on even his most sappy days. One time he told Steve that no, he couldn’t let him go to take a piss because, and Steve remembers this word for word: there’s stardust in my body that’s in your body and that shit’s like magnets, Stevie, like magnets or whatever so my heart’s like pulled to your heart and if you go away without me ever you’ll rip my heart out—because like, a guy remembers that kind of declaration shouted into his ear over the music at a bar that’s safe enough that they’d get away with the excuse that Eddie was plastered, for the way he was hanging on Steve, but thank fuck the lighting was shitty enough that no one could see the flush on Steve’s cheeks, and thank fuck even more that no one could see his magnet-heart and how pounded something wild for the way Eddie draped over him and pressed full against his chest and nuzzled under his chin and made the kind of declarations that Steve had kinda been searching and hoping for all his life.

Drunk or not.

But then there’s another flavor, a specific one: and that’s medicated Eddie. And that Eddie, that cough-medicine-soaked-to-the-gills Eddie?

He’s an adorably giggly little fuck, is what he is.

“I’ll feel better by Saturday,” he lolls his head over to Steve’s shoulder where they sit beside one another, Eddie properly bundled in three blankets with a Sprite in hand. “Pinky-promise,” he slurs a little, but it might just be the stuffed-up nose doing the heavy lifting on garbling his words, and then fuck, of course the dipshit reaches up to seal the deal like the absolutely irresistible goofball he is, and always: snot-coated and all.

“Just rest up, babe,” Steve pulls him close with an arm around around his shoulder, dropping a firm kiss to his forehead: still warmer than Steve would like, in all honesty: “forget about Saturday,” and he means that with his whole chest, because fuck reservations and flowers and boxes of the chocolates Eddie likes best from the city—his boyfriend is sick, his boyfriend is hurting, and there is kinda not a single more important thing than that, than attending to that and making it hurt even the slightest bit less of he’s able, if it’s in his power.

“But we had,” Eddie sniffles heavily, loud and almost painful-sounding; “we had plans,” he whines, and turns toward Steve with overbright-eyes, far too watery:“our first,” he says it like it’s a heartbreak unto itself, bottom little quivering, and fuck.

Steve smiles though he hurts for Eddie right now so hard, want to take all the aching into himself it to spare this beautiful man for a fucking second, just he reaches and traces lilting patters around Eddie’s eyes, his browbone, his jaw, slow down to press soft at his lips:

“You not planning on having many more?” Steve asks soft, a little playful, a little leading: he likes to hear it, and often: that Eddie’s in this as deep and true and Steve is. For the long haul.

“All the more,” Eddie sing-songs sniffily, which is both pathetic and adorable, tugs at Steve’s heartstrings and the corners of his lips alike; “alllll of the more, Stevie-baby,” he draws out in promise, crosses his heart uncoordinated for feeling fuzzy with his cold and being fully cocooned in blankets and again: adorable and pathetic and perfect.

The man’s fucking perfect, even when he’s all stuffed-up and curled sick on the couch.

“Got you the best presents,” he adds on dreamily with a little chuckle, the high-pitched airy kind that float in the air between like bubbles; “so much better than all the other ones,” he adds kinda petulantly, pouts full around the words and maybe it’s the cough medicine, or the fuzziness Steve knows well comes with both the cold itself and the remedies to help alike; he brushes his lips against Eddie’s forehead just to be safe and Eddie giggles a little and leans full-bodied into Steve, unbalanced for the swaddling of most of his frame and that just makes him laugh all the more: he’s no more feverish than he had been, which was admittedly barely, just more than Steve liked, but: yeah.

Yeah, that’s…he kinda guesses it all could combine to have Eddie spewing kinda nonsense, and he probably should just smile and pull his boyfriend closer in his arms and cuddle him some more but he’s both curious and concerned, which turns out to be a potent mix, so:

“Other ones?”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums long and warm as he snuggles up to Steve a little closer, and Steve stretches an arm around him wholly, settles him flush to his chest: “but shh, don’t tell, okay?”

And Eddie sounds breathless, which piques Steve worry alongside the bright flush he finds on Eddie’s cheeks when he looks down: his eyes are fairly clear and…no, forehead’s still the same temperature, not clammy or anything, and Eddie’s just preening as he lazily tips his face up to receive more kisses, mostly unaware that Steve’s attentions serve any other purpose than loving on him.

And , well, no: they really don’t, it’s just the love’s multi-layered here, just now. It’s love, and it’s devotion, and it’s dedication to Eddie’s general wellbeing all wrapped into one. So: yeah.

“Swear,” Steve decides to play along, hoping for clues as to just how loopy Eddie’s ended up for one end of the sick-stick or the other; “what’s up, baby?” he draws circles over the harsh jut of Eddie’s clavicle, little massages that Eddie eats up with a dimpley grin as he sighs, back to the dreamy-tone again:

“Flowers.”

Steve buries a little smile into Eddie’s tangly tresses, because like…

“You got me flowers?”

No one’s ever really gotten Steve flowers.

“Noooo,” Eddie giggles and shakes his head under Steve’s chin as he buries closer into Steve’s chest, stretches Steve’s already mostly unbuttoned shirt out to damn well nuzzle the fuzz of curls beneath, and he makes this fucking…soft little half-whine that’s almost a purr, that vibrates straight through Steve’s ribs and his heart goddamn flutters, fucking hell—

“But that’s a great idea, can you remind Eddie tomorrow?” he pulls back with those fucking button eyes so big, as he talks about himself like he’s another person with such innocence then chuckles, burrowing against in Steve’s chest:

“I’d love to buy you good flowers, the nice kind, not the ones in a ten-gallon bucket sitting getting brown,” and his voice is all frown but…adorable, fuck, he’s such a fucking adorable drugged-up sicko, Steve can’t really handle this shit.

“And it was so sad,” he sniffles against Steve’s chest, and hell if Steve knows if it’s congestion or something like…mounting? Because he’s so sad? “The white ones, because they got brown so fast and, and,” and his words get caught up as his lungs rebel, as he sneezes, shakes from his core and Steve’s hands grab for him, tighten around him fiercely and Eddie gives into that protective instinct in Steve like clockwork, magnetic and automatic and Steve loves him so goddamn fucking much.

He presses his lips to Eddie’s temple as Eddie catches his breath and groans a little; kisses his over-warm skin just because.

“Carnations,” Eddie sniffles once he gets his bearings back enough; “are symbolssss,” he draws out long like a sloppy hiss; “of devohhh,” and he coughs a little, and pouts at being interrupted so he huffs heavier on the last syllable: “shun.”

De…devotion? Fucking…carnations?

Shit, Steve hasn’t seen a carnation, at least not knowingly; not since—

“And white ones mean pure,” Eddie rambles, all nasally but indignant anyhow, somehow; “so white carnations would be pure devotion,” and Eddie untucks himself from Steve’s chest for a second to look at him straight on with a little wobbly grin.

“You didn’t even notice, did you,” Eddie says, and there’s no sadness in it; but fuck, Steve…

Steve might fucking, like, start fucking crying.

Because he knows exactly what Eddie’s talking about, now.

“I noticed,” because it was the fucking carnations, the last time he thought about them: Hawkins High School, where they decided to hold up the horrible preteen tradition of anonymous flowers delivered for Valentine’s Day, so three people could be reminded they were the top of the fucking food chain with a pile of crushed flowers still dripping from their buckets of water, the little colored-paper tags soggy with the writing unreadable, while the rest of the school got to feel less-than when they got nothing, and Steve got more than his share even in the years after he toppled from on high in the social hierarchy, but they’d never mattered to him, they’d kinda made him feel uncomfortable. Except—and he could never explain it, but it was predictable, it happened every fucking year—in the collection of reds and pinks there was always one that stood out, all on it’s own.

A white one; Steve never even caught that they’d gone brown at the edges.

“Every year I noticed,” he exhales, and breathes Eddie in from the top of his head because, because—

Every year? Meant…meant every year. Freshman on up.

“My heart used to do this thing,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s scalp, kinda; and yeah, it’s basically doing the same goddamn thing right now, a little trippy and dizzy and just…it’d scared him a little.

He recognizes now it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing, where he is, who he’s with, who he holds inside tight close with him: it’s how his chest feels when what he’s doing is right.

“When I saw the white ones,” Steve whispers, and kisses against Eddie’s hair again, and again, because god; “only one person ever sent those.”

“Sometimes I’d have to run, like, hide in the gym showers so no one would know it was me,” Eddie matches his whisper, almost conspiratorial as he reaches out for Steve hand and Steve’s more than happy to meet him, to grasp tight, so tight; “hated gym, did you know that?”

“Oh, I had no idea,” Steve deadpans as he nuzzles Eddie’s hair, while Eddie goes back to nuzzles his chest, and Eddie’s breathing starts to even out and Steve thinks maybe he’s asleep, but then—

“Stevie?”

“Yeah, baby?” Steve wraps his arm around Eddie a little tighter.

“You’ll remind me about the flowers?” he asks, so goddamn soft; “wanna buy the best white carnations you’ve ever seen in your whole life.”

And Steve promises, yeah, of course—except: he kinda thinks maybe he already got the best ones years ago, again, and again.

He won’t discourage more of the very best, though, so long as Eddie’s the one next to him, handing them to him face to face, no hiding anywhere, just: them.

Pure devotion.

✨ ao3 link here

permanent tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[ultrone]

rewatching s1 rn and im just imagining lottie as a gf >_< watching her go from so sweetie pie to cult leader would be such a ride but it’d be kinda hot. like as she got more into it, she would be taking you to the alter and eating you out because it’s what the wilderness needs

🫀 ♰ ┈ 𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗲 𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼.

Your thighs were trembling, but the brown-haired girl between them held them firmly in place.

It was midnight when Lottie woke you up with urgency. She claimed to have received a vision from the wilderness, and she insisted that you needed to fulfill it that very night, under the light of the full moon.

You never expected the wilderness to ask for something like this—but… did it really?

You didn't mind, though, because the way Lottie's warm tongue flickered against your beating clit was enough to make all your thoughts disappear in almost an instant.

You were lying in the middle of an altar, resting on a soft blanket. A pretty crown made of flowers adorned your head, and a small symbol drawn with Lottie's blood rested on your forehead. Your hands were searching for something to hold onto, but all they could find was the dirt and rose petals scattered around you.

Your legs were outstretched and being held by Lottie's hands, as she slowly and insatiably licked your wet pussy from the bottom to the top, finishing the motion with an excruciatingly slow circle around your clit, then sucking on it repeatedly.

She looked lost in a daze, almost hypnotized. Her hair was messy, and her mouth was dripping wet, sucking on your centre as if her life depended on it. She was so eager—and hungry—that it felt like she was devouring you, giving out low groans as she tasted your sweet flavour.

"S-so fuckin’ good,” you babbled, unable to speak clearly as you felt her groans vibrate against your swollen clit.

"You have to give in, Y/n," she mumbled against your centre, "It's so hungry... It won't stop until you give in," she added, tightening her grip on your now bruised thighs.

Your hands instinctively flew to her head as you felt her tongue begin to penetrate your needy hole, gliding in and out of your walls as her nose rubbed against your abused nub. "I-I’m close,” you moaned out as you pulled her impossibly closer, feeling yourself near the edge.

She tightened her grip on your thighs and started sucking more forcefully. "—fuck Lottie,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes tightly. Her tongue slid faster and faster around your clitoris, flicking it back and forth and softly biting at it with her teeth, making your back arc in pleasure and your vision turn hazy.

You released a few more loud moans before you came all over her mouth, drenching it and her chin with your cum.

As you caught your breath, your chest heaved rapidly, trying to recover, while your fingers in her hair gradually loosened their grip. She gently licked you a few more times as you came down from your high, allowing your muscles to relax completely. Once she finished cleaning you with her tongue, she slowly crawled up your body and positioned herself close to your face. Leaning in, she whispered in your ear, "You did really well."

Then, she shifted slightly and tenderly kissed your forehead, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind your ear. Resting her hand against your cheek, she gazed deeply into your eyes, her pupils dilated with desire. "The wilderness is now pleased with you," she began softly, "You'll see," she added with a gentle smile.

i know this was just a thought but it was so hot i had to write a blurb 😭 i’ve also been busy writing long fics and i wanna feed y’all more,, mwah <33

[taleah-bonnick]

more sterek fic recs - all completed

finally, some more sterek! enjoy :)

quiet perfection by hyperlittlenori - this is one of my favourite sterek fics ever, it's honestly one of the softest things i've ever read and it has me grinning from ear to ear every single time i read it. it's an AU with a deaf derek and a sign speaking stiles. they meet for the first time at the station and are instantly enamoured with each other. all i want is for this fic to become a series, i just want more of them.

chasing slumber by hyperlittlenori - another fic by this author! this is some of the most intense sterek smut i've ever read in my life, i literally forgot to breathe during it. the boys use sex to cope but it's a lot healthier than it sounds, i swear. there's also a lot of fluff, i love this one so much. this authors writing is immaculate.

from love not lust by hyperlittlenori - another one, i know! this one is just really simple and sweet. the boys fall in love through book annotations and it's so extremely soft. asexual derek is beautiful.

deaton's dream beans by thenerdnextdoor - a coffeeshop/bookstore AU! derek is a brooding hermit who owns a bookstore and stiles is an obnoxious but adorable barista who's trying to start a war with a rival coffee shop. this is such a fun story, with a tiny bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff. also, background thiam! i've read this multiple times, it's just so silly.

i ain't scared of your teeth by antisepticdork - stiles gets attacked by harpies, derek gets growly about it, they fall in like. this one is very much a 'monster of the week' fic, very chill and a bit goofy.

we've written volumes (in blood and scars and ink) by notthequiettype - stiles gets attacked by the alpha pack and derek nurses him back to health with a whole lotta werewolf healing mojo. solid banter, minor smut and a lot of fluff.

you saw me standing alone by orphan account - so obviously i like fics where stiles gets hurt and derek plays the sexy nurse, because here's another one! this is such a sweet fic, and the smut at the end is A+, slutty bottom derek is one of my favourite flavours of derek. he mewls, guys. mewls.

this is ridiculous by zosofi - a pining derek, a bloodthirsty, virgin killing unicorn and an oblivious, virginal stiles stilinski. this fic is so goofy and i love it.

warm shadows by stilinskisparkles - stiles gets hurt after another kidnapping and derek offers to help him out while he heals. a zero angst fic with some great banter and an evil peter hale thrown into the mix. these boys are so in love i wanna scream.

hear it in the silence by elisela - post season six fic where stiles and derek are best friends. stiles drags derek along on an impromptu road trip to escape the pressure of college and they realise they're in love along the way. such a romantic fic with top tier healthy communication, it's just a really beautiful story about falling in love with your best friend.

click here for part one of my sterek fic recs!

[tiredwitchplant]

How to Use Herbs : Rosemary

Hwello there. We have talked about rosemary and its uses in a previous post. If you haven't read it, please click here: Rosemary

Now I shall provide some spells, tonics, recipes and etc on where you can utilize it. Let us begin :)

Author's Note: From I noticed a part is usually a teaspoon. You can add more according to your needs, but I would always start with that measurement first.

Alchemist Formula for Binding:

One part benzoin gum (Saturn, binding)

One part patchouli (Saturn,binding)

One part Solomon's seal (Saturn, protective)

One part rosemary oil (Saturn, protective)

One part frankincense oil (Sun, success)

Mental Focus Magical Tea:

I part rosemary

1/2 part spearmint

1 cup of boiling water

Mix herbs in a small jar

To brew, pour 1 cup of boiling water over 1 teaspoon of the herbal blend.

Steep for 5 - 7 minute. Strain and drink.

Spells:

Remembrance for Lost Love (Heartache Healer)

6 drops of rosemary oil

3 drops of peppermint oil

1 drop of lavender oil

White candle

Add the oil to the top of the candle, one at a time, in a clockwise direction around the wick.

LIght the candle and gaze into the flame

Visualize your fond memories of the person who left your life. As you do this say, "I thank you for the time we had together, I thank you for the love we shared, I thank you for being an important part of my life. We have parted, we move on, we remember. I wish you the best life has to offer and hope you have found happiness."

Allow the candle to burn out of its own and dispose of the remaining wax away from your home or bury it in the spot you and the past partner enjoyed together.

Broom Cleansing Spell

 Use one or any combination of the following botanicals: broom, cedar,fennel, hyssop, rosemary, sage, vervain.

Arrange the botanicals and tie them to the bottom of a branch withraffia, visualizing, charging and knotting. (Any branch may be used,however an ash branch is considered particularly powerful.)

Sprinkle with salted water or any preferred purification formula.

Sweep the area.

Disassemble the broom outside, away from the cleansed space.

 Bury the components in the ground or toss them into living waters, flowing away from you.

Ghost Keep Away Spell (Boundary Line Spell)

Place three peeled cloves of garlic in a bowl, together with one handful of sea salt and one handful of fresh rosemary leaves.

Grind and mash the ingredients together.

Sprinkle them to create a boundary, as needed.

Bad Habits Bath

Add the following to a tub filled with warm water:

Essential oil of clary sage

Essential oil of frankincense

Essential oil of lavender

Essential oil of lemongrass or May Chang

Essential oil of rosemary

Enter the bath and inhale the fragrance, and accompany with affirmations and positive visualizations.

Kitchen Witch Recipes:

Super-Quick Bonus Recipe for Gwion’s Red Onion Pickle Bliss

Fills one pint-sized jar

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cooking Time: 20 minutes, plus 30 minutes to cool in the fridge

1 medium red onion

3 tablespoons sugar

1/2 cup water

10 black peppercorns

2/3 cup white wine vinegar,

rice vinegar, or apple cider vinegar

1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1 sprig rosemary

1 clove garlic, peeled and halved

Slice the onion very thinly and place it in your clean, dry jar. Set it aside.

Add the rest of the ingredients to a medium saucepan and bring to a boil until the sugar has fully dissolved. Stir carefully so you don’t break the rosemary. The sprig is in there to add flavour, and you’ll discard it before the next step.

Let the pickling mixture (the water, vinegar, and spices) cool down for about 10 minutes. Discard the sprig of rosemary and pour the remaining

ingredients into the jar of onions. Make sure all of the onions are submerged

in the picking liquid. If you have to, use a spoon to push the onions down in the jar. Seal the jar and put it in the fridge to cool. The onions are ready to eat once they are cool, about 30 minutes.

Serve them on avocado toast, burgers, salads, or just with a fork straight out of the jar. Remember to kiss your partner or partners before eating the onions out of the jar, unless they’re into pungent kisses.

Goat for a God: Roasted Goat Leg with Grape Molasses

Great for Deities: Dionysus, Pan and Thor

Serves : 6

Prep Time: 30 minutes

Cooking Time: 2 hours and 30 minutes

1 goat leg (about 3 pounds)

1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon olive oil

2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon cumin

2 teaspoons black pepper

4 tablespoons grape molasses

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon coriander

2 sprigs fresh rosemary

1 cup white wine + one glass for sipping and toasting while cooking (use mead if you're cooking this for Thor)

1 bay leaf

2 large carrots, chopped into

1" chunks

1 celery root, peeled and chopped into 1" cubes

Open the bottle of white wine or mead and take a hefty drink. (This is optional but deities do like when you drink with them but they can respect if you don't partake.)

Preheat the oven to 375° F.

Liberally season the goat leg with salt and pepper.

Rub the minced garlic all over the goat leg too. If it helps, poke a few holes in the goat leg so you can get the garlic right into the meat.

Place the rosemary sprigs and bay leaf in the bottom of a large roasting pan and put the goat leg right on top. Add the carrots and celery root around the edges. Pour the olive oil all over the goat and rub it around. Coat the carrots and celery root too.

Pour the white wine around the bottom of the roasting pan.

Loosely cover with kitchen foil and put the whole pan into the oven for 2 hours.

About an hour and forty-five minutes into the cooking process, it’s time to make the glaze.

Mix the grape molasses—which is a super-condensed syrup made of grape must—in a bowl with a tablespoon of olive oil, the coriander, and the cumin. You can substitute honey for the grape molasses if for Thor.

At the two-hour mark, pull the roasting pan out of the oven and paint the goat with the grape (or honey) and spice glaze.

Pop the goat and veggies, uncovered, back into the oven for another 20 minutes or until the internal temperature reaches at least 145° F.

When you’re ready to serve this dish, scoop the veggies into a bowl (fornow) and put the goat leg on a platter. If you have access to one, get a cedar plank and serve the goat on it.

Medical Tonics and Infusions:

Infusion- An infusion is the simplest way to prepare the more delicate aerial parts of plants, especially leaves and flowers, for use as a medicine or as a revitalizing or relaxing drink. It is made in a similar way to tea, using either a single herb or a combination of herbs, and may be drunk hot or cold.

Pot Infusion

For a cup:

1 tsp (2–3 g) dried or 2 tsp (4–6 g) fresh herb (or mixture of herbs) to a cup of water

For a pot:

20 g dried herb or 30 g fresh herb (or a mixture of different herbs) to 2 cups (500 ml) of water

Warm the pot, then add the herb.

Pour in water that has just boiled, replace the lid, and infuse for 10 minutes.

Strain some of the infusion into a cup. A teaspoon of honey may be added if desired.

Storage:

Store in a covered jug in a refrigerator or cool place for up to 24 hours.

Tonic Making

Standard Quantity:

200 g dried or 300 g fresh herb chopped into small pieces to 1 quart (1 liter) alcohol—vodka of 35–40% alcohol is ideal, although rum hides the taste of bitter or unpalatable herbs

Standard Dosage:

Take 1 tsp (5 ml) 2 –3 times a day diluted in 1 tbsp plus 1 tsp (25 ml) of water or fruit juice.

Place the herb in a large, clean glass jar and pour on the alcohol, ensuring that the herb is covered. Close and label the jar.

Shake well for 1–2 minutes and store in a cool dark place for 10–14 days, shaking the jar every 1–2 days.

Set up the wine press, placing a muslin or nylon mesh bag securely inside. Pour in the mixture and collect the liquid in the jug.

Slowly close the wine press, extracting the remaining liquid from the herbs until no more drips appear. Discard the leftover herbs.

Pour the tincture into clean, dark glass bottles using a funnel. When full, stopper with a cork or screw top and label the bottles.

Storage:

Store in sterilized, dark glass bottles in a cool dark place for up to 2 years. An amber glass jar is the best option.

Sorry this post is so long @_@ But please enjoy and use wisely. Bye byes~

Sources