#how the might has fallen my ass

[tonycries]

One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 

You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit. 

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh? 

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 

“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 

But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 

But no matter. 

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[yokelfelonking]

Post 9/11 Trivia

Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:

There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)

On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.

People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.

As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.

Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"

People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.

"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)

People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.

On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.

Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)

EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.

Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)

And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"

Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"

[hairmetal666]

The worst thing that ever happened to Eddie Munson is a spinning studio opening in the building next to the neighborhood store he runs with his uncle.

"That's the third one today," Eddie whines as soon as the door snicks shut behind a woman with a glossy high ponytail and electric pink polka dot Lululemon sports bra and bicycle short set.

"You see her ponytail?" Nancy asks. She's flipping through a stack of flashcards. "Never seen a twenty-five year old look fresh off a facelift."

"I hate them so much. What kind of job is 'cycling instructor' anyway?"

"I'm concerned about the amount of makeup they wear to workout. That's gotta be bad for the pores."

"I'm concerned about the collective IQ holding that operation together. Like, do they know how to get out if there's a fire alarm?"

Nancy shoves him, but snickers too. It's not like he really has anything against the instructors. They're fine. Polite and usually harmless. It's the principle of it. It's not fair, that they get to continue into an adulthood that's still all about them being pretty and popular, without any substance.

"You've done college bio," he says. He notices a couple of cereal boxes have fallen over, hops off the counter to push them back in place. "What are the chances their muscles are so big it's cutting off the blood flow to their brains? Is that a thing that can happen?"

There's no response from the front of the store, which isn't unusual. Mostly, she lets him talk and chimes in when the mood strikes. Since she seems uninterested in offering her input, he straightens the cereal and keeps gabbing.

"The other day, one of the guys came in, and his shorts were so tight, I could see his balls. Not just the outline, but the wrinkles. I could almost make out individual pubes. Is that one of those things where they pretend they're limiting drag, or whatever, to improve their speed? Even though it's a stationary bike--"

He turns, the shelves straightened, and literally only three feet from him is one of the aforementioned cycling instructors. Unfortunately, he's the most beautiful man Eddie has ever seen. Even more unfortunately, he definitely heard Eddie making fun of them.

"Uhh," Eddie says.

The guy smiles. "Sorry, my giant muscles make it hard to get around sometimes."

And Eddie just. Like. What the fuck. "That must make it difficult to cycle." God, god but this guy is so fucking, devastatingly hot and all Eddie has done is antagonize him. And not even intentionally!

"I get by," he smiles and Eddie almost swoons. "Hey, when I bend down, can you let me know about the ball sitch? I have a wholesome image to maintain."

Is he flirting? It seems like he's flirting? But that's weird, right? He caught Eddie talking shit, why would he--

"It would be my pleasure to look at your balls," his mouth says before his brain can catch up.

The guy snorts, smile getting bigger. "I don't know, now I might be self-conscious. Might have a wayward pube."

"How will you know if someone doesn't take a look?"

The guy steps closer, cocks his head to the side. He's got this impressive sweep of hair that barely tumbles, his throat dotted with cute little moles and freckles. Eddie's mouth is watering, why is his mouth watering? "I usually get to know someone a little bit better before they get that privilege."

For once, he's speechless and now he's blushing, can feel it up to his ears and down to his nipples.

The guy leans even closer, breath ghosting against Eddie's skin. "Too bad you hate exercise instructors."

This social interaction has already been a disaster, but he makes it even worse by responding with an indignant squeak.

The guy winks, can't hide his genuine amusement at Eddie's expense. "You ever want to make it up to me, you can come to one of my classes."

With that, he walks up to Nancy at the counter, and Eddie gets his first look at the single most glorious ass he's ever seen. His mouth literally drops open as he watches how it jiggles, perfect and round, and he wonders if it would be too much to fall to his knees and worship it right then and there.

Eddie's dumbstruck for a little too long, almost misses as the cycling instructor heads for the door. "How can I take your class if I don't know your name?" He shouts.

The instructor half turns, the sexiest, smuggest smile on his pretty face. "It's Steve!" He yells back.

"I'm Eddie!"

"I know!"

The door closes and he turns to Nancy. "How--how did he know my name?"

Nancy rolls her eyes, goes back to her flashcards. "You're wearing a name tag, you absolute dork."

Eddie knows he's a man of weak will. Is not completely surprised when, after a month of meanly flirtatious interactions, Steve leans across the counter to taunt, "you do one cycling class with me and I'll take you out to dinner."

He's fresh from a workout, hair still damp and messy from the shower. Eddie thinks he's about to lose his mind, desire a clawing beast gnawing on his bones.

"Oh, so I might finally get the opportunity to check out your balls?"

Steve's cheeks go very pink, and something tight and hot tugs in Eddie's abdomen. "If you play your cards right."

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (I)

This is probably my longest running dysfunctional daydream scenario, so I thought I'd share it here.

As stereotypical as it gets, you've fallen into an old well and found yourself in feudal Japan. Almost immediately, you're attacked by a yokai that calls you by a name you don't recognize. He insists you possess the soul of an ancient priest that would capture demons under a binding contract. Something isn't right, however, so your life is spared until further clues come to light. With two men unwillingly bound to you, you begin to uncover this mess as more 'collection pieces' show up. They might prefer you to their previous owner.

TW: violence, monsters

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guidebook]

You vigorously cough out whatever grass you seemed to have bit into when you hit the ground. Was all this vegetation here just one moment ago? As you get up and dust your knees you're brought back into focus by the loud buzzing of insects. You look above and involuntarily squint your eyes. You didn't expect to see a full, bright sky.

"What the hell?" is all you can mutter.

You and your university friends had planned a quick trip to the neighboring Tokyo, just to visit some trending local cafes and shop around. You somehow wandered into the suburbs and found a very obvious path to a large shrine that was visible from the bottom of the stairs. Now, what's more stereotypical than finding a shrine, approaching it with shy steps, dangling the old rope of the bell and humbly clapping your hands together for a quick prayer that gives you a fake sense of meaningfulness? Then again, you love a good cliché. So you did just that, and then whipped out your phone to snap some artsy photos of the place. In your search for the perfect angle, you spotted a wooden structure among some pillars and zoomed in to realize it's an old well.

Here's where you awkwardly tiptoed away from your friends. You couldn't possibly confess to them that you're one of those anime nerds, and that you immediately thought of a certain classic title, and that this could make a very good impromptu cosplay shoot. You could smell the nostalgia as you carefully swayed your way behind the pillars and under the shade of the tiled roof. You bent over carefully (apparently not carefully enough) to asses how deep the well was. Just as you were about to exclaim its shallowness, you felt the gravity pull you inwards. Within seconds your head made contact with the moist soil and you briefly blacked out as the rest of your body arrived in proper position.

Unpleasant, but you've had migraines worse than this. Though now you're wondering whether you might've damaged some important brain parts, given the sudden change of scenery. Or has your dysfunctional daydreaming finally caught up to you?

You laugh silently and test the walls around you, feeling for some contact point that you can use to pull yourself back out. You finally crawl out, but freeze with your elbows around the frame of the well, looking ahead.

There's no building around, just tall grass and what seems to be the beginning of a forest. You remember to blink, and each time you close your eyes you hope to see the shrine once again, to no avail.

"I thought I'm past the risk age for schizophrenia", you mumble in a humorous attempt. The situation is so absurd that you need to share it with an imaginary audience.

You muster up the courage to step out and onto the ground, with extra caution as if it could vanish at any moment. After brief consideration, you slap a bunch of weeds in front of you to test their consistency. The hard stems hurt your wrist and you nod. This is a little too intense to be just a hallucination.

Alright, so you got trapped in some sort of feudal anime remake. What now? You glance around, almost hoping to see some white haired man sleeping against a tree with an arrow stuck into the chest. You check your phone. No signal, but thankfully it still works. You have a battery and its charger, but the latter is probably useless. Unless this remake comes with electricity. You chuckle at the thought. Who knows, maybe it's one of those isekai otome games instead and some timeline inconsistency or loophole will provide you with an outlet.

After trying the well one last time without success, you decide to at least find another human being. Then you can get some grasp of your whereabouts and situation. You notice a patch of grass that's been bent to the ground, probably from frequent stomping. That's a start. You follow the hints of bipedal movement and hope for the best.

The improvised path slithers downhill and around the mass of trees, and you question whether the fields ahead might have traces of houses on them. You pick up your pace in anticipation.

A sharp swish of an unknown object causes you to flinch and halt, and before you can process it, a thin blade lays inches from your nose. You follow its length and find the source: a tall, horned (???) man with silver hair.

Ironically enough, he seems to be more shocked than you. His facial expression flips from focused anger to unbelievable confusion within seconds. His eyebrows are raised and his lips part.

"Ah!" you yell as the gears begin to turn. "Christ, you almost made me question my sanity!

Now let me tell you, this is some great cosplay. I was about to beg for my life. Hah! How the hell did you pull the whole transition? Is the well a tunnel? I hope I didn't accidentally break into some event."

The man returns his sword into its sheath, still in deep disbelief.

"You're not him, are you? But then again..."

"Huh? Him? I'm sorry, were you expecting someone? If you show me the way out I'll disappear in a moment." you turn around, prepared to be led to the exit. "Who're you cosplaying, anyways? I'm a big fan of historical dramas, but I don't recognize the character design."

"I don't understand what you're saying." the man tilts his head in utter surprise.

"Alright, I get the point" you force a laugh, slightly irritated by the persistence. "You're deep in your acting, I get that. Focus and all the jazz. But my friends are around the corner and I don't have signal, can you please skip the theatre and show me the exit?"

"The exit to...where? You're outside."

You sigh, loudly, and click your tongue. "Enough of this, please. Where's the shrine?"

"Ah, I get it. You're trying to confuse me." he pulls his sword back out. "I've had enough of your tricks. You're in an early stage, aren't you? Not strong enough to fight back. I can sense it."

Oh God, it's one of those maniacs, you think to yourself. You raise your arms as a peace offering and hope you won't be featured in the 5pm news with multiple stab wounds.

"Listen man, I really don't know what you're talking about. I'll leave quietly and won't bother you again, I promise."

You gulp and await a response, but the man's mouth opens and the words are replaced by a foreign, disembodied shriek. There's a rapidly approaching heavy shuffle that sounds like the trample of many limbs. You feel your leg being hooked into something and the ground turns around at a dizzying speed.

Something just grabbed you.

Given the movements of the lips, you're assuming that the mysterious cosplaying maniac is yelling something, but your ears are ringing and throbbing as the adrenalin begins to pump. You're being thrown around by something and you can feel the skin holding your leg together creaking and tearing with every jolt.

You manage to land your eyes on the creature. The teeth are unnaturally sharp and it seems to have many arms and legs arranged in a scattered order along the scaly body. It trashes around in such a fluid, dynamic way, that you doubt it could be the result of any machine. It's a living thing and currently attacking you for whatever reason.

Once the bizarre reality settles in, panic floods your body and you scream for help. If not the maniac, then some godly intervention. You did offer a small donation at the shrine, it has to count for something.

The spectacle doesn't last long, since the silver haired man doesn't hesitate to behead the creature. You can see that he wasn't making empty threats with his sword skills. You'd prefer, however, if you weren't the next one to go under his guillotine. Your body rolls over the dirt, limp from the shock.

You tilt yourself upwards pathetically and let out a groan once you attempt to use your leg to stand. You turn around and notice the aftermath of your little air ballet. There's a deep wound and thick, red blood is oozing out, scrambling to form a protective crust.

"You... really can't fight at all, can you? You weren't lying."

The man is now standing in front of you, the same amount of disbelief he had at the beginning.

"How the hell would I have fought that...that..." you choke and can feel tears forming in your eyes. "I don't understand what's happening. I just want to go back home. I don't know what's happening." you start sobbing and angrily rub your eyes, hoping to trigger some sort of way to wake up. But your eyelids burn and you feel awake. This was never a dream.

Your sudden meltdown startles the man and he awkwardly hovers his hands over you, unsure of how to handle this.

"Sorry, if I had known, I would've stopped it earlier. I genuinely thought you're..." he sighs. "I'm really sorry. You got hurt because of me."

"Can you please tell me where I am? I feel like I'm going crazy. It's year 202X and I was out with my friends and fell into a well. I've never seen a creature like that in my life. I somehow ended up here and I can't go back. Where the hell is this?"

"I... I don't understand what's happening either. I came here because I sensed he's back. I didn't expect to see... well... you." 

You scan his face. His frown is sincere. Which, truth be told, is even less helpful. You're back to square 0, it's getting dark and your ankle is trashed. 

You just want to sleep.

You stare at the ceiling, hands locked together over your chest. The improvised hay mattress isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly better than nothing. You sheepishly glance at the horned man. He's sitting by the window, idly looking outside with hooded eyes. He seems to be tired, too. 

"Try to get some rest", he'd told you earlier. Easier said than done. After the monster attack, he carried you on his back until you found an abandoned hut. His way of apologizing for letting you get mauled. As you walked, he narrated his reasoning to you. 

His name is Kiritsubo. When he was a child, a human dressed like an onmyouji took him in for training. Said to be the successor of Abe no Seimei himself, the man was feared throughout the country for his supernatural powers. Most of his strength, however, came from the collection of yokai he'd gathered to work for him. None of them had agreed to it, but no one knew how to break the bond subduing them. Eventually, the old man succumbed into his eternal slumber, yet the yokai were still not freed from the contract.

Some of them suggested he wasn't truly gone. Merely reincarnated. And today, he felt it for the first time. That's how he stumbled upon you. You appear to have part of his soul within you, whether you realize it or not. But if you truly have no knowledge of it, he doesn't have the heart to slaughter an innocent. 

"What about the rest?" you blurt out, quietly.

Kiritsubo turns to you, mildly startled.

"What do you mean?"

"You said the man owned 12 legendary yokai. Are you the only one left?"

"No." He frowns. "They most likely know about you already. Let's try to send you back to your world tomorrow, because they will not be as forgiving."

A shiver runs across your spine. This one is scary enough already. You pray you'll be home before you can meet any other beast.

"This is where I found you, so the well shouldn't be far." 

The silver haired man surveys the horizon and you limp forward. 

"I'll check the area, since you can't walk much."

As soon as he says that, he vanishes. You're left with the heavy buzz of afternoon cicadas. You might as well do your own search. Keep yourself preoccupied. The idea of leaving this behind fills you with excitement and you find enough strength to push ahead. 

A few minutes later, you hear a shuffle behind you. Could it be that Kiritsubo already found the well? Enthusiasm fills your chest and a burning heat spreads out. Although it speedily pools in your left shoulder, and you notice in horror that it wasn't enthusiasm taking over your body. A blade is sticking out of your shoulder, avoiding anything vital as some sort of mockery rather than omission. 

"Found you."

The voice is deep and foreign. You barely manage to tilt your head and meet the glowing red eyes of a black haired man. Dark horns are twisting menacingly from his crown and his expression is that of pure wrath. As fresh blood drips down your chin, you wonder if this is the next yokai in line to seek his revenge.

How will you get out of this?

[xxsunoosprincess]

Hi! How are you doing? I love your writing btw, you’re definitely one of my favourite writers 🙈

I don’t know if anyone has asked this yet, but enha legal line + aftercare?? What they’d do, how they’d act kind of thing? Maybe even how they’d like to be taken care of? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to do this 🤗

hi hi!! I’m a little sick rn but doing good because I’m finally done with school >:3 also u make me blush sweet anon… I’m glad my stuff makes you happy!! sorry it took a minute to get around to this but I’m indulging in some softer stuff while I sniffle away in bed :,) thanks for the request!!

Enhypen and Aftercare (OT6)

pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, mentions of sex but not pure smut, fem bodied!reader

Heeseung

His face contorts into an expression halfway between pain and pleasure as he slow lying inches his sensitive length out of you, a breathless “hahh” escaping him as he shivers, collapsing onto you. It pulls an unexpected grunt out of you, followed by a series of giggles as he borrows into your neck, huffs of hot air tickling your sensitive skin.

“What the fuck” he whines out. You feel his hands squeeze your hips “your pussy is crazy”. The seriousness in his voice has you caught between a belly laugh and a faux scandalized gasp, swatting his ass gently as you scold him for such crude words. “I’m serious! You. Your body. You’re just perfect…” small pecks between each word, sleepy yawns, and a dopey heeseung clinging to you like a koala. Has fallen into the routine of fucking you before bed, claims it’s “the only way I can sleep now. Need you so bad”, and it might just be true because you can already feel the gentle vibrations of his snores against your collarbone.

Jay

Don’t play rn Jay is literally the embodiment of doting aftercare. The routine is locked and mf loaded. After he bullies your cunt until it’s sore and you are sure you can’t walk, this pillow talk starts. This part is just as much for you as it is for him, because he doesn’t think he could walk right now either. Promises of a future together, a catch-up on how your days have been, chats about if you liked the newest thing he introduced to your romp in the sheets. Just hearing your sweet voice cut through the quiet of night is enough to reground him (plus, he really does care about what you have to say).

I think he’s a little lazy with clean up, keeps a pack of wet wipes at the bedside table to give you both a once over, makes a half-promise to shower with you in the morning, and then rolls over to spoon you, peppering light kisses down your neck as your naked bodies intertwine to watch an episode of your guys’ favorite tv show. To Jay, aftercare is just as intimate as the actual sex. Unintentionally romantic in every way.

Jake

He’s the one that needs the most extensive aftercare, and come on, doesn’t he deserve it? He will eat you out for hours until you are kicking and squealing and prying him away by his hair. He will fuck into you from behind like it’s his sole purpose on his earth. And when all is said and done, he can hardly talk, slipping between English and Korean as he mumbles out a mix of curses and “so good, princess, so good”.

We wants you to play with his hair, curling up into your chest and peppering light kisses across your skin. He won’t admit how his heart skips a beat when you coo out a soft “good boy” to him, instead, he playfully bites you in retaliation. He won’t say anything about it, though. He loves the extra soft treatment, it’s like a reward for pushing himself to his limits to make you feel good.

Sunghoon

He’s such an angel. He’s sweeping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. It doesn’t matter how big you are, he insists on carrying you because you are his baby (“you know, I don’t lift all those weights for nothing” cue the cheesy flexing). Lets you soak in the shower for a bit while he changes the sheets and prepares pajamas for you. Big believer in actions speak louder than words.

“Was I too rough on you today?” he pouts, slipping into the shower after finishing his post-coital rounds and eyeing the redness that has stuck around on the meat of your ass. No amount of reassurance of you liking it will erase the worried expression, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed into a thin line. The only thing that makes him stop, makes him burst out into laughter and splash water at you, is the promise you make to spank him next time around.

Sunoo

I’m sorry but he is definitely crying afterwards. Y’all know I’m not on the babygirl Sunoo agenda all the time, but this is something I’m absolutely positive about. He’s just so overwhelmed with emotion, so happy that you trust him to see you in such a vulnerable state, so happy to be with you, so in love with you, the tears are forming in his eyes the moment he watches you reach your finish underneath him. “My pretty girl” sniffle sniffle “you’re so- fuck- so gorgeous”. Doesn’t matter how long you have been together, there is about a 50% chance of tears every time you guys fuck.

He tends to get embarrassed about crying like that so please give him lots of reassurance :(. Gets a little shy and whiny at vocalized praise, but loves gentle back rubs and showers together. Let him wash and dry you, he likes to feel like he is taking care of you just as much as you take care of him <3.

Jungwon

I’m sorry he’s so silly and sweet after. Needs to make you laugh after an intense moment. Eases his mind to see you so happy after being so vulnerable (firm believer in the wonie softie agenda). Still naked as the day he was born as he playfully wrestles with you in the sheets. He’s right next to your ear, letting our exaggerated high-pitches moans and squeals of “wonnie harder!”. He giggles at your indignant protests, reassuring you that he loves how you can’t get enough of your “very hot and sexy boyfriend”.

He seems like the type that needs to be constantly moving, fetching you towels and water and hand feeding you snacks. “Anything for you, babycakes”. Cheesy ass grin while calling you corny pet names in a teasing voice, dodging the pillow you launch his way.

END.

a/n: reminder that requests are open. I have some to work through and might not do all requests I get, but I love hearing from y’all :3 also this isn’t proofread, just like every thing else 😭 xx - princess

[bizbat]

He Realizes He Loves You - JJK x Reader

~ Reader is implied to be under 6ft but appearance is otherwise not mentioned.

~ Reader is implied to be fem and is explicitly fem + afab in Toji's part.

~ Including: Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Choso Kamo, and Sukuna Ryomen (in order).

~ Feel free to request a character not included!

~ Smut included for multiple characters.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ Thank you to (@starlight5cat, @s0ph1a7, @koiromii, @totallydestiny, @local-hopeless-romanic, @dalis-raines,@ryosuku, @liargh, @llotusfeet1, @crustychoco, @cult-of-norman, @broccolihater80, @bringmethewolves, @sohstayshawol, @therealisttheillest, @midnightxsecretary, @skullzgarden, @tiatasha-01, @sardonyx005, and @dimpled-peach) for all the characters they suggested!

~ Cw: Creampie (Toji), Slight Anal (also Toji), Pet Names (also also Toji) :( Mild Groping (Choso), Slight Yandere/obsessive behavior (Geto)

He realizes he loves you.

Toji - Explicit Smut, Wc: 315

The way you're squeezing him like you don't want him to pull out, calling his name like a hymn, God he might just cum right then and there. He's losing his mind as his hips slam against your ass, his thumb in your other hole, gripping the fat of your cheek while using it as leverage to pull you pack onto him.

Fuck, have you always sounded so sweet? And have you always been this pretty? He can't remember. All he knows is that he's not sure he's ever felt this good. He knows he's not thinking straight when his hips stutter, his cock throbbing inside you, and instead of slowing down, he speeds up. If he was a bit more cognizant, he'd consider pulling out, but who is he kidding?

You're too sweet to him, he knew it from the day you met. If he was a less selfish man, he'd have walked out of your life the second he felt his pants tighten at the sound of your voice. But, he's thankful he's not less selfish. "Gonna let me cum inside ya, baby?"

But, at the end of the night, he can cum in any broad willing to spread her legs for him. The second he blows his load, he'll be heading out the door. He's done it a million times. Veni, vidi, veni. Sometimes he'll turn a one night stand to a two night stand, but he never does more than twice.

Wait, how many times has he been over to your place again? Nevermind, he's cumming now. He doesn't still his hips as the thick, creamy white substance spills out of your cute little cunt. But his brain is fried, so when your juices coat his thighs, and your fingers squeeze his forearms, all while pressing your glossy lips to his . . . How's he supposed to help himself?

"F-Fuck, love you baby."

~

Megumi - No Smut, Wc: 265

He's never been the type to "jolt" out of bed. He usually slowly comes to consciousness, his body acting as a natural clock. Tsumiki would always say he was the early bird of the two. It was always just his routine.

But today, for some reason, the second he wakes up he snaps up and out of bed, his back straight as an arrow. It takes a second for his brain to register why. It's you. Here you are, peacefully laying in his bed beside him, his sheets covering everything but your face. You must have fallen asleep here after you and the other first years had movie night.

His eye twitches as he considers what to do. He doesn't wanna wake you, you look like a little angel, granted, you have a bit of drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth, but an angel nonetheless! He doesn't wanna tell Gojo, lord knows he'd never let him live it down. He doesn't want the higher-ups to find out and get you in trouble.

His brain moves damn near a mile a minute as he thinks of possible solutions. If you were awake you'd probably tease him about the smoke coming out of his ears. His eyes anxiously dart across his room, as if something in there could possibly fix his problem-

Until you roll over, your arm limply draped across his lap. It's not really a problem, is it? Gojo can handle it, he thinks to himself as he slips back under the covers, letting you hold onto him as you sleep in.

~

Gojo - No Smut, Wc: 334

Satoru doesn't do it for praise. While the sound of his sweet girlfriend's voice thanking and complimenting him is practically music to his ears, it's not his sole motivation. He's not sure what it is.

Maybe it's the sparkle in your eyes when he gives you your favorite type of pastry, he went out of his way to visit your favorite bakery, even though it was out of his way. Or maybe it's how tightly you hold him when he brings you a new bottle of your favorite perfume, even though the manufacturer stopped selling it. Maybe it's the way you squeal his name with joy and surprise when he appears at your doorstep, a cute little kitten in his arms, a bright blue bow tied around its neck.

He's not sure. It could be all of them for all he knows. Don't get him wrong, it's more than enough to get him out of bed every day. But it might actually be the fact that you almost . . . disregard his gifts afterwards. Maybe that's not the right word, but you're so casual about everything (except the kitten ofc). The necklace he got you last month, the one with his and your initials inside of a gold heart? You wear it everyday. Never say a word about it.

The watch he dropped at least a band on, the one that has five sets of hands and tells the time in Japan and your home country? You keep that in its case next to your bed. In the entire time you've dated, he doesn't think you've ever asked him for anything material. Maybe to do the dishes or take out the trash

Maybe that's it, actually. The fact that you'd rather spend time with him. That you see him as the biggest gift of all, it plays into his ego, sure. But there's something different about the way you cherish him, versus how the world does. Regardless, the thought makes him smile, makes his heart swell.

~

Nanami - Mild Smut, Wc: 336

Nanami has a lot of regrets in life.

He regrets every missed opportunity, every untaken chance, every day he's taken for granted, when others have to struggle so much to get half as far. Sometimes, he worries the thing that will finally do him in is grief. He has nightmares about choking on all of his remorse, and his biggest fear is that the second he gets something good, he'll be too distracted to hold onto it. But he has no regrets about you. He can feel it, even when he was still a student. Nanami knows how special you are. He sees it in the way your soft hands hold his face every morning and every night. In the way your lips curl and your hips wiggle in a little dance when you eat your favorite food. In the way your voice always rasps a small "good morning, my love," even before your eyes have opened.

God, you're special to him. And he knows better than to let you get away without knowing that. So when he has you in his arms, naked as the day you were born, your eyes tired and your skin sticky, he lets you know. He leans down, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, his lips just barely ghosting against your skin. He thrusts his hips gently, your soft smile and tiny moans encouraging him. He doesn't need to realize he loves you, he already knows that, but until now, right this very second, he didn't realize he was in love with you. And it hits him like a truck. He hadn't realized that your laugh is his favorite sound in the world, that he could eat your cooking until the day he dies, that you could scream at him for hours and hours, and he'd still think you had the voice of an angel.

But God, you're special. He mumbles into your collarbone, something he's always ment, but never fully grasped. "Ngh~ God, I love you."

~

Geto - Implied Smut, Wc: 352

You're so blessed. You have his head resting in your lap, his hair loose as your fingers card through it, his robes barely hanging onto his muscled form. He's so beautiful, you can't believe you're only getting to see him up close now. His dark eyes stare penetratingly into your soul, his soft smile making your heart feel like it's on fire.

He has invited you into his personal quarters, the familiar scent of sage, and oils wafting through the air. It wasn't uncommon for him to invite someone to his room, just to keep him warm or entertained, not that it was frequent, but it wasn't like it never happened. To say that this wasn't what you had expected upon first entering, would be an understatement.

You had introduced yourself to him, bowing at his feet as you began stating your name and how long you'd been a member, only for him to interrupt you, listing information you didn't even know he knew about you, information you didn't even know about you. You sat there on your hands and knees, mouth agape in surprise, until he placed a hand under your chin, gently closing your mouth and guiding you to your feet. You didn't think to question it, of course your lord and master knew everything about you.

He pulled you deeper into the room, going into detail about how you had caught his eye the moment you had begun worshiping him and his ideals. He explained his plan for you to lead alongside him, become his bride and second in command, only if you wanted to, of course. It was a big responsibility, hundreds of people suddenly bending to your every whim. Not to mention his two wonderful daughters.

But why would you ever say no? How could you possibly deny the prospect of being his wife- Geto-Sama's wife!? So here you are, your own robes just as loose as his as you carefully stroke his long, inky locks. You're so beautiful, he's truly blessed to have such an obedient, loving little lamb in his flock, finally, all to himself.

~

Choso - No Smut, Wc: 282

He's happy he has you here. Sat in his lap, the glow TV illuminating your pretty face, his hands up your shirt. The only thing that could make this better would be if his brothers were here, though, perhaps it's better if they aren't. He does appreciate the intimacy of it just being you and him.

He can't help himself from looking up at you, paying attention to the way you mindlessly chew on your lip. It makes his own lips part with desire. "Can-can you kiss me again?" He lightly squeezes your chest, his fingers tightening around the black lace bra under your shirt.

His curious, pleading eyes are too hard to ignore. He moans into your mouth, one hand groping your breast, the other gently holding your tummy. He rests his head on your shoulder when you finally pull away, a nervous smile on his face, he's still learning how to do it right, he hopes you don't mind. Actually, he knows you don't.

If anything, you love it. He can tell by the way you hold his cheeks when he does it, the way you giggle and kiss him more and more just to see it widen. He wants to do that for you. He wants to hold your cheeks and giggle when you smile and kiss you to see you do it more.

His heart erratically beats in his chest as he impulsively reaches out, turning your face and holding you still while he presses messy kisses to your lips. He doesn't stop the barrage of pecks when you ask him what he's doing. He just smiles. And that makes you smile. And that makes him smile more.

~

Sukuna - Implied Smut, Wc: 266

If you were to ask him about it, he'd laugh in your face. Sukana cares for no one, he does not love, he does not enjoy anyone's presence, he does not feel warmth in his chest when you kiss his cheek. Absolutely not. Never. You'd be foolish to think otherwise.

You may be his favorite concubine, who he always lets lay with him in bed after he's had his fill. Who he lets run her fingers through his hair during bathtime. Who he makes sure is seated on his lap at all times. But that does not mean he likes you. It just means he finds you tolerable. Yes, that's it.

He finds you tolerable, at most, and that's generous, even, so there you go, there's your answer. Only, you didn't even ask to begin with. You said "Good morning, my lord," and here he is, going on a rant in his head about how much he doesn't love you. Shit. He's in deep. Far too deep for anyone of his standing, and it's too late for him to pull himself out of this eternal abyss.

Curse you, wench, for having such control over him, unwittingly at that. Who do you think you are? With your adorable face, and your soft hair, and your nice smell-Wench! Mark his words, he may be steadfast in making you his bride, and disposing of any other concubines that expresses too much jealousy, and keeping his palace decorated in a way that you would find flattering, but he is not in love with you by any stretch of the imagination.

[bagofshinyrocks]

Period Comfort

Prompt: How the boys act when their S/O is on their period. [Requested by @weebumochi]

Featuring: TF141 and Los Vaqueros - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, and Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: reader menstruates, but no mention of genitalia; menstruation discomfort; nothing else i can think of, but lemme know if there's more

John Price

Always gets you water and a fresh cup of tea once your cups looks a little low.

Finds out what meals are best for someone on their period and focuses on making those for the week.

You two would make food with beef, eggs, and fish (if you eat them); spinach, squash, and brussel sprouts. All the nutritious stuff. 

And then he would make treats for you, especially dark chocolate on almonds or walnuts. Bring you bananas, berries, figs. You felt like ancient Mesopotamian royalty. All things that were also good for you, but were more traditional period comfort food of “sweet”. 

If you really needed to eat half a family sized bag of barbeque potato chips, he would fetch them and put them in a bowl for you. No questions asked. No movement in the eyebrows. A loving smile as he asks what movie you two were going to watch.

 But for dinner, he’s making something without so much… sodium.

Does everything he can to make your period easier on you.

Simon Riley

Doesn’t tell you that he knows you’re on your period, but that shit is on the calendar. Doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s all “oh is it that time of the month?”. So he pretends nothing is different.

He’s always so sweet to you, but he’s especially so when you’re on your period.

There are absolutely no gibes or pokes at the tender part of your heart. And whenever you’re most hormonal (which is also on the calendar), he might not tease you at all. Because one time he was a little snarky with you, and normally it would roll right off, but you were just a teensy bit too hormonal. And you got quiet. And your lip quivered. And he didn’t stop apologizing the whole day.

Any shows or movies he normally sighs about (but still sits down and watches… and gets invested in, the lying shit), there is no fussing.

“Alright, lovie, sounds good. Do you want another cuppa while I’m up?”

Need some quiet time by yourself? He has some errands to run, let him know what you want for dinner.

Just does his best to make sure you never feel crazy when you’re on your period.

Kyle Garrick

When the worst of your period comes in, it becomes the typical night in.

The dumbest movies that you two love. Dessert eaten before dinner. Favorite takeout and all the accoutrement available. A glass of wine or some other treat beverage. Matching pajama sets.

Kyle had almost fallen asleep when you massaged a yummy-smelling hair mask into his scalp, and then pulled a ‘oh I was just resting my eyes’. And then he returned the favor, painting a luxurious facial mask on you. Making hearts on your cheeks, then spreading them out. You were fairly sure he drew boobs on your forehead, but then smeared it out and insisted you were just imagining it.

You give each other manicures, and hand feed the other food whilst their nails dried. Kissing chocolate and strawberries off each others lips and chins.

Once his hair was wrapped up, he’s all snuggled up in your arms. The heat and weight of his body against your abdomen was soothing. And the gentle snoring of the love of your life.

Everything he can to make you feel comfortable and attractive in your own skin.

Johnny MacTavish

He gets up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run (like a fucking psycho). Once you wake up, he wants to go to the gym with you. Whether or not you work out, or just poke his butt because it’s funny, he wants you there. But not today. Your cramps, or just the general yuckiness of menstruating, makes you want to not leave the house.

So he hops on the internet, and finds the workouts, stretches, and yoga poses that would help you feel better.

The most gentle workout he’s had in his life. Stretching with the speed of tai chi, leaning against your back and chatting quietly.

Kisses wherever he can reach as you two figure out the yoga poses. Sticks his ass out as far as he can so you’ll poke it. Whistles whenever you begin a pose that’s even marginally suggestive. Waggles his eyebrows and maybe even cops a feel.

Double checks that you aren’t overexerting yourself. Stops for water (and kiss) breaks and asks how you’re feeling. What’s helping, what’s not helping? Time to stop, or keep going?

Helping with the physical and visceral symptoms so you’re more comfortable.

Alejandro Vargas

If he can, he’s clearing the schedule for the worst day of the week. Does grocery shopping and laundry before, so there is essentially nothing to do that day when Mother Nature is curb-stomping you.

Spoils you with a long lie-in. The sun has long since come up by the time you wake up to massages and kisses.

You join him for breakfast and a quick rinse off shower, and then you two crawl right back into bed. Leaning against him as he kneads the skin and muscles of your abdomen or back, a movie or the radio as ambient noise.

Maybe you fall back asleep. Maybe you watch an entire TV show. Maybe you putter about and do some light home-making. The goal is that you are fully rested.

I bet science says that you can’t “catch up on sleep”, but it’s still nice to have a day where you sleep for most of it. Especially when it’s curled up in bed with your sweet lover. His hands on you for the entire day, closely followed by his lips.

His whole body squeezing you tight when you try to leave, and wrapping around you again once you return.

Just physically reminding you of how much he loves you.

Rodolfo Parra

Once he sees a menstrual product wrapper in the bathroom trash can, he’s off to make the most professional grocery run you’ve ever seen.

Knows exactly which products you use, and checks which are low. Buys the right medications or products. The snacks that you love (that won’t betray you later with a stomach ache), and the little drink treat that’s for special occasions. 

You swear that he hears the crinkle of a wrapper in the bathroom and marches to the store.

Puts the groceries away while you’re finishing up the breakfast dishes and then offers you the little beverage and maybe a treat.

He guides you to the couch or back to bed, sidling up next to or behind you and kisses you deeply. Arms roaming and then settling in a way that keeps you as close as possible. Pressing against you as if you could become one.

Cuddles in the way that is most comfortable, whether you’re in his lap or laying down. Kisses you all over. Hand feeds you until you’re giggling too hard.

He never wants you to run out of the supplies you need, or feel any less sexy while menstruating. Because you are always so sexy to him.

Posted: 2024 January 7

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[suiana]

Yay!

(yandere! sweetheart x gn! reader)

You've seen him around. Seen how he talks, how he acts. And you're certain of one thing.

He's not what he looks to be.

Others might say you're paranoid or something, say you're just jealous of him and how everyone seems to adore him. But you really aren't. You just... You're just scared of him.

You're sure of it. It's his whole vibe and aura. It fucking creeps you out and you just can't understand why no one else can feel that. But you suppose it's because he looks like just another guy who's awfully sweet.

His eyes, lips, they all tell a different story as compared to the eerie vibe he gives off. Normally the eyes would be able to tell if he was just acting but... Even his eyes show that he's just a sweetheart.

You've rethought your opinions on him several times. Maybe you're just mistaken. Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.

But no matter how hard you've tried to see him in a positive light, your stomach churns with an indescribable fear. And your gut has never once lied to you.

Which is why you're currently trying to leave this scary situation which your best friend has put you in. She had brought you out to eat for a hangout and out of nowhere, this guy popped out and your friend invited him to join you two without caring about your opinion. You really wanted to punt her after she did that.

Anyways, she's in the toilet right now which means that you're left alone with him.

You didn't know what to say. You honestly just wanted to avoid him if you could. But he seemed to have other ideas.

"So! What have you been up to? I've been volunteering and helping around town, planting flowers and accompanying old granny-"

You tune out his words, staring at him with a slightly unnerved expression. Shit, he really does look like your average cute guy who's just a sweetheart. You can't help but feel bad about ignoring him but... even now, you're on edge. How could this be? You don't even sense any malicious intent but you're worried?

"Hey! Are you not listening?"

You snap out of your daze, blinking several times as you gulp nervously.

"Ah... apologies. I was just... tired, yeah."

"Hm..."

He hums, still smiling at you as he props his hands on the table and rests his chin on them. You figut the urge to look away from him as he stares holes into your skull. Shit, when is your friend going to return? You can't handle this anymore...

"Say, darling, do I scare you that much?"

He suddenly mumbles, catching you off guard by the petname and his words. What? He knew that he scared you?

"I knew that you were different. That you could see something others couldn't. Which is why I was interested in the first place. But it really hurts me to see you blatantly ignoring me more and more each day."

He complains, pouting at you as he continues to stare straight into your soul. You feel a shiver run down your spine as your mouth runs dry. Wait what? What is going on? Why did he say that? He knew? Darling? Did he like you?! What the hell?

"You're really special to me. I really don't want you to be scared of me."

He reaches one of his hands out and places it above your trembling ones. He smiles warmly, though you can't help but feel chilled by the action. Damn boy! Stop! You don't like this!

"W-what are you-"

"I am completely in love with you. And I apologize about my... condition that has scared you."

He admits, cheeks flushed as he continues to stare at you, eyes unblinking. You have no response to him. Who knew that the town sweetheart that scared the shit out of you had fallen for you? And condition? Oh shit, was he like, a devil or something?

You gulp nervously, lower lip trembling as you freeze in your seat. Cold sweat decorates your forehead as you pray for your friend to hurry her ass up.

"Ah... I had planned to just take you, you know? But I don't want you to be too frightened of me... It hurts. Truly."

He sighs before removing his hand away from yours, looking at the direction in which your friend was walking from. Thank god! What was she even doing for so long?! She was gone for five full minutes, damn!

"Your friend is back, let's cheer up a bit, hm?"

He chuckles lightly, stirring his coffee as he finally breaks the prolonged eye contact which made you feel naked. Whew, finally that was over. You felt molested by him even though all he did was say some creepy shit.

But... condition. Hm... You'd need to do more research about him. Maybe then you could finally understand why you felt so unnderved by this guy.

And perhaps even try to get rid of the constant stress in your mind. Which would be him, obviously.

He seemed to know so much about you yet you know almost nothing about him. This was really not an optimal position for you.

"Haha! Did you see a ghost or something? You look scared as shit!"

Your friend jokes, taking her seat beside you as she goes back to eating her cake.

Yeah, she was right. You did just see a ghost. And this ghost was sitting right at the table together with you two.

Damn it, this was really the worst.

[matchingbatbites]

For @steveshairychest and based on their post here. I read it and just couldn't resist <3

The thing is, Eddie knows that Steve is straight. Honestly, that's the only reason Eddie is as bold as he is, why he starts flirting with him in the first place. He's got years of repressed feelings towards the younger boy, and now they're friends, good friends, and Eddie feels comfortable letting loose some of that pent up attraction, knowing that Steve won’t shun him for it.

He does start off small, just to be safe, with pet names and terms of endearment like handsome, honey, sweetheart. Just little things that make Steve's mouth quirk in a smile, nothing to make him feel uncomfortable. The longer Eddie goes, though, the bolder he gets.

The first pickup line is a joke. They’ve been talking about some new beach movie that's just been released onto video when Steve mentions his lifeguard certification, and before Eddie can stop himself he says “It's a good thing you're a lifeguard, because I'm drowning in your eyes.” 

Steve laughs at that, not mean, just surprised, and is still grinning as he gives a half-hearted “Shut up, Eds,” and turns back to what he was working on. 

And, oh, Steve has no idea what he's done, because Eddie is instantly obsessed with the need to make Steve laugh, to pull out that playful side of him that’s so rare to witness. So Eddie pulls out every dumb pickup line in the book, tries his best to make him laugh again.

“Hey, Stevie, your hand looks lonely. Can I hold it for you?”

“Did you just come out of an oven? Because you're too hot to handle.”

“Is your dad a boxer? Because baby, you're a knockout.”

Most of the time Steve just rolls his eyes and grins, but every so often he’ll make that surprised laugh, or god forbid, he’ll giggle, and Eddie mentally crows in victory every time it happens.

The kiss thing is spur of the moment one day, when Eddie has been hanging out just to be around Steve, and causing a little bit of a racket in the store. After a while, Steve playfully shoves at Eddie's shoulder and says "Get out of here before you get me in trouble, man," and Eddie just grins as he leans into Steve's space. 

"What? No goodbye kiss before you send me off into the world?" 

And oh god, Steve actually blushes this time, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink, and oh fuck, Eddie is such a goner. Steve shakes his head and tries his best to hide a smile as he says "In your dreams, Eddie." 

"In my dreams it’ll be, then, handsome," Eddie replies with a grin, giving a mock salute on his way out the door.

It becomes a usual thing, Eddie hanging out and flirting and asking Steve for a kiss before he leaves. Every time, Steve's response is the same, that delightful blush covers his cheeks as he grins and pushes Eddie away with a "Keep dreaming," or a "You wish,” or even a half-assed “Fuck off, Eds.”

It all comes back to bite him in the ass when, for once, Eddie arrives at the video store to pick up Robin, instead of just doing his usual lazing about and bothering Steve.

Walking in, he doesn't see Buckley immediately, but he does spot his favorite person behind the counter and he beelines to Steve. He leans on the counter, elbows on the clean surface and chin in his hands as he bats his eyelashes at Steve.

"Hi Stevie! How's the prettiest boy in Hawkins today?" 

Steve looks over at him and Eddie feels like a deer in headlights when the man gives him a sly grin. He leans on the counter, arms crossed as he presses into Eddie’s space.

"I dunno, gorgeous, how are you doing?" 

All of Eddie's higher brain function just stops as Steve speaks. It’s such a stupid response, something that anyone else might have said if asked the same question, but for some reason it makes Eddie go dumb, cheeks flooding with color and mouth dropping in shock.

Steve’s grin widens and he tips his head to the side, looking like the cat who got the fucking canary. He reaches up and grabs a curl that had fallen from the messy bun Eddie had thrown his hair into, and twists the lock around his finger as he leans even closer.

"You look so fucking good today. Drives me crazy when you wear your hair up like this, sweetheart. Puts your whole neck on display, all that pretty skin just begging to be bitten and marked up."

And yeah, Eddie's brain must be leaking out of his ears, because it’s him, it’s Eddie, the master wordsmith who always has something to say, and all he can manage to get out in response is a single, stupid sounding "Uh.”

Steve's expression shifts to something more condescending and god, Eddie is so into it when he tugs on the curl again and coos "Aw, got nothin’ to say, baby doll? Can't take what you dish out?" 

An embarrassing whine finds its way into the air between them and fuck, Eddie has to go. He needs to leave before he makes an even bigger fool of himself than he already has, because Steve is looking at Eddie like he wants to eat him and his knees feel like jello and where the fuck is Robin??

As though summoned by just a thought, Robin breezes through the shop and throws out a casual “Steve, can you stop? I need him to drive me home and he can’t do that if his brain is mush.”

Eddie glances over as she walks past them, thinks Traitor! as she leaves him at Steve’s mercy and heads outside to his van. He looks back to Steve, at those hazel eyes alight with amusement and tries to get his brain to work.

“I need- uh- Robin-” he stammers, unable to even complete a thought as Steve smirks and leans in even closer, his nose almost brushing against Eddie's when he asks, "Can I get a goodbye kiss?" 

And Eddie could never say no to Steve, especially when the other is looking at him like that. He nods dumbly, hoping he doesn't look as desperate as he feels, and there's another tug on that curl.

"I need you to use your big boy words, sweetheart," Steve says, still tinged with condescension, and Jesus fucking Christ, this whole dynamic is really doing it for Eddie, more so than he ever thought it would.

"Yes, Steve- Please-" he says, fully prepared to start begging if he has to, if he can find the words to, but he's given a bit of mercy when Steve closes the gap between them.

It feels like he’s being electrocuted, and that's all he needs for his brain to get with the program, for his hands to finally respond as they fly up and tangle in honey locks as he kisses back.

Steve groans and presses closer, his tongue bullying its way into Eddie's mouth and Eddie can feel his limbs turning into goo as Steve kisses him thoroughly, those old King skills being put to good use as he wrecks Eddie with just this.

A car horn sounds from outside the shop and Steve pulls away, smirking again at Eddie's soft whine of protest. “You better go before Robin pitches a fit.” 

Eddie nods, still dumbstruck from the last few minutes and says "I- Yeah, okay. Uh, call me? Tonight?"

Steve hums and stands up straight, and Eddie can feel his brain power returning with the little bit of distance now between them. 

“Why don’t you come over after my shift? Say, 9?” Steve asks, giving Eddie that hungry look once again, and Eddie’s breath hitches.

“Yep, yes, I can- I’ll definitely do that,” he answers, taking a few steps back and trying his best not to stumble. “I’ll, uh, see you then, Stevie.”

Steve calls out “See you later, baby doll!” as Eddie scrambles for the door, and oh god, Eddie is fucked.

[ohdeerfully]

Requests? I got you 😌

Reader who made a deal with Alastor, be his informant, and he'll provide aid when needed. And reader was damn good at holding up their end of the deal, while Alastor hasn't really needed to uphold his since aid hasn't been asked for.

So what might happen when his dear little informant hasn't came back from gathering info on the Vee's?

EATING IT UP idk i love this kind of stuff thank you so much. im making this a two-parter! it was getting kinda long and i wanted to get something posted (:

Your Half of the Deal (i)

Alastor x Reader part i part ii part iiiTW: kidnapping, cursing, alastor is manipulative (per usual), alastor is in denial if you want to be tagged in the next part, let me know! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Deals with Alastor were, for a lack of better words, a big deal. Not something to mess around with. His twisted nature allowed him to create so many loopholes for himself, forcing one to do more than what they bargained him for. It was unfair, but that’s what happens when you make a deal with the Radio Demon.

You weren’t as lucky as the other demons at the hotel, not receiving the typical advice Vaggie debriefed any newcomer. Alastor got to you first. He got you soon after you fell into Hell, before you even knew exactly what was going on or the whole ‘soul’ thing. 

“My,” A light voice cooed from the shadows, causing you to jerk your head up. Your ass still stung from the tumble you took after falling down into god knows where. You were curled up in a dark, moldy corner, a brief respite from all the freaks that you kept running into. Your fingers–no, claws?--still aches after defending yourself from a pair of spiked thugs.

“What a poor sight. How dreadful!” He continued. You could barely make out the form of the speaker. You just knew he was tall. With blazing red eyes. His voice had a radio-like filter over it, with a general low frequency humming around himself during the silence.

He had seen you, a new fallen demon, fight yourself away from those two earlier, a wild look in your eye. How it pleased him, seeing that look somebody gets when they are desperate for their life. But you, in particular, piqued his interest. To be able to acclimate to a new body, in a new place, and fight for your life at the drop of your hat.

You seemed capable, and he liked that. He knew you were naive, fresh meat always was. And he liked that.

You had yet to speak, only looking up at him from your fetal position. But he could tell you were tense and ready to spring, if need be. He played a grin on his face and leaned down closer to you.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Alastor,” He held his hand out to you from his bent over position. You shook his hand cautiously. “I saw that scuffle earlier, and dear if I may say, you fight like a wild tigress.” 

You quirked your brow at this comment. “Thanks,” You replied plainly. “(Y/N).” You didn’t want to talk right now. But, you were at least glad to see a face that didn’t immediately go through your throat. 

Alastor, of course, didn’t go after those of the ‘fairer means,’ as he would put it. At least, not in a violent way. He was all for the typical manipulation.

“Even still, a fair lady such as yourself needs someone to protect her! And,” He stood up straight again, a dangerous glint in your eye. “For a price, I could be at your beck and call.”

“A price..?” You responded weakly. You had to admit, seeing this tall, confident man in front of you did seem to put you at ease. He seemed kind. And it wouldn’t hurt to have some help, if there were more creatures wanting to attack you.

“Your soul!” He said, all too cheerfully. Your mouth dried up at this. With everything that has happened to you so far, you had a hunch that the term ‘soul’ actually carried meaning in this place. But, how much..? Was it worth the protection he promised?

“More like a mutual contract, really! Mutual benefactors!” Alastor lied, seeing that hesitance in your expression. “I get your soul, you do what I ask, and I protect you! Simple enough.” 

The expression he held, with that tall grin of his, didn’t do much to calm your nerves. As chipper as he seemed, there was something to it. Something more, but you couldn’t quite tell.

“Deal?”

His glowing eyes seemed to darken as he squinted them in anticipation, his smile somehow growing wider. The static in the air seemed to crackle with more energy, almost violently, as you considered his hand that he had held out. There was an ominous aura that made your skin crawl.

Ah, what the hell. Flashes of those thugs from earlier was enough to put you on your feet. You could only imagine the other shit that lived in this place, and had a feeling they were the bottom of the barrel. You had only just managed to get away from them.

You made eye contact for a couple of seconds, the prickling sensation on your skin becoming harsher and more aggravating the closer you stepped to him. You grabbed his hand.

You were thinking about your unlucky situation–which you often did in your free time–as you gave yourself a onceover in the mirror, black eyes examining your tight outfit. A little spy getup–a little stereotypical, something you would definitely see in the movies. But, hey, it never failed you.

Thinking back, you could tell now that his words and smile were filled with deceit and manipulation. You often got pissed at yourself for how naive you were. You hadn’t even called on him once since then, and you’ve been stuck as his little pet for nearly four months now. He runs you around like a doll in a big playhouse, sending you this way and that to get intellect from his various enemies.

“I’m much too popular to be roaming in those areas!” He had claimed when you questioned why he, the Radio Demon, couldn’t just do it himself. “Demons flee at the sight of me. The Vee’s would see me from a mile away.” You had a suspicion that he just didn’t want to be seen in public making such a petty fuss over his television rival.

There was no point in dwelling on it, but you couldn’t help the occasional feeling of regret that twinged your chest when you thought too long. You were stuck as his, whether you liked it or not. 

Slicking back your hair, you finalized your sleek outfit. Another day of being thrown into precarious situations by that red asshole. It was becoming a weekly thing, with Alastor requesting more and more information, especially from those Vee’s he hated so much. In fact, now that you thought about it, they were the only demons you snuck by. How obsessed they were with each other.

It was no easy task, getting through the security of that place. In fact, it was nearly impossible, seemingly getting harder every time. You had a cautious feeling that they knew what you were up to, and kept falling short of catching or stopping you. There were cameras pointed in every direction, every angle, in the highest quality imaginable. Every trip left your heart racing with adrenaline.

“On your way now, are you?” Alastor asked coyly. He waited for you at the entrance to the hotel, a glint in his eyes. Oh, how he loved playing with you like this. Watching you bend and break for him. He loved it. And you hated him for it.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll get killed this time,” You said snidely, referencing the increasing danger of each trip. “Wouldn’t that be a treat for me.” You said this in a whisper, but Alastor still heard.

He bent at the waist to be eye level with you, that sinister grin of his lowering slightly. It seemed he had wanted to say something, his teeth parting for a moment before closing again. His grin perked back up and he straightened himself into a stand. He simply reached out and patted your head.

“Now, don’t go out with that kind of mindset! Why, you know our deal!” His lips curled in reference to the rather one-sided promise you made each other. To be honest, considering you never had to call for Alastor’s aid, you weren’t even comforted by the notion. Who’s to say he even shows up? How will he even know if you need help?

Alastor stepped towards you, his hands flapping as he shooed you out of the door. “The night is only so long! Go along!”

So, now you’re here. Tucked behind a corner near the Vee’s residence. There were cameras everywhere, obviously, and you swore you saw more than last time. What point does Alastor even have, making you come here so often? What more could he want? You knew him and Vox were rivals, but it wasn’t like Alastor didn’t know how to take care of the TV-head.

You had a sick feeling that Alastor just enjoyed making you do bullshit for him like this, and didn’t care much for the actual information. The thought drew a sneer on your face. If you weren’t literally soul bound to this guy, you would probably just let yourself get caught and likely killed on the spot. But, of course, your deal made that dream impossible. 

With a couple hops on your toes, you began your brisk walk towards the back of the manor. You were hyper aware of all the cameras, and hoped that your dark outfit helped blend with the shadows. 

However, the second you lifted a window and stepped foot into the building, lights flashed and an alarm rang. Fuck.

The television demon himself got to you surprisingly fast. As if he had been waiting. Which, honestly, wouldn’t have surprised you. You briefly wondered why it took them so long to have an alarm system in the first place, and began frantically looking for a way out. The window behind you had shut and locked. The hallway was incredibly narrow and Vox stood in the way.

Fuck it, you made a mad dash for the Overlord, hoping to catch him off guard. You raised a clawed hand and swiped at his television head. A pointless attack, you realize, as the screen nearly flickered for a moment; his wide, pixelated grin staring into you. Before you could move again, his arm tightly gripped at your throat. You felt an electrifying sensation, stinging through every nerve, and blacked out.

“Heyy, Al?” Charlie’s voice rang through the doorway of Alastor’s radio tower. “Have you seen (Y/N)..? She was supposed to help with some decorations.” She had opened the door without warning.

He paced back and forth in thought, gripping the top of his cane with one hand and tapping the end of it in his other. He didn’t respond to Charlie, but the question did ring in his head over and over. You hadn’t come back from the night before. You always came back before the day broke.

He didn’t know the feeling that stirred in his chest as he watched the minutes pass by. The hours pass by. All without a sight of you. He never thought to keep watch as you worked, refraining from sending his shadow to spy on the spy, as he always saw you as capable enough. 

Besides, he thought to himself. What a waste of my time that would be. Fretting over a single demon.

“Alastor,” Charlie said again. He craned his neck to her, stopping his train of thought. His grin had a strain to it and his nose wrinkled in aggravation. Why was she in his space? He hated intrusions.

“What?” He said bluntly.

“(Y/N)?” She spoke your name again, hoping to prompt some conversation out of the Radio demon with the implied question.

Alastor composed himself, acting unphased by the… worry? That he felt. “Why would I know where she is? I take care of this hotel, but not so much the residents.” It was a true enough statement, as he preferred just watching the demons Charlie try desperately to rehabilitate and fail miserably every day. 

“Now, if you don’t mind,” He interrupted Charlie before she could say anything, her mouth hanging open and words dying on her tongue. He briskly turned on his feet and walked towards her, standing at the doorway. “I would prefer you knock next time.” He shut the door on her.

He couldn’t handle the heavy feeling that threatened his lungs as he thought about what was happening at the Vee’s residence. 

Did he really care to go out, risk a scene, risk the intel, just to get you? To make sure you were okay?

Yeah. He had to. He hated that feeling in his chest, especially as it just grew heavier and more overwhelming. He just chalked it up to the deal he had made with you putting a pressure on his own soul to hurry up and deal with it. But he couldn’t help the tightness that consumed him when he thought about what you were doing in that place. Or what they were doing to you. He brushed the emotion aside, trying his best to ignore it.

He argued with himself that yeah, he was only going because of that deal he had made. No, no way did he have a soft spot for you. No way in Hell. He was just doing this to hold up his deal. Yeah.

With a heavy sigh and a twitch at the corners of his lips, he brushed his talon-like fingers through the fringe of his hair, pushing it back before letting it fall into place again. He tried to maintain a leisurely composure, but a wild glint in his eye was proof enough that he was stressed out.

Best to get this over with. He had a deal to uphold. He opted for the faster route, melting into his shadow.

part ii part iii

[seresinhangmanjake]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Sister!reader

Summary: Because Johnny found him sleeping with his sister, Simon had to live the last three months without you, but he's about to get his girl back.

warnings/notes: a little smut 18+, cursing, drinking. That's probably it. Oh, typos, im sure, as well.

words: 1830

Part 1

He drinks at the same bar. The one his team practically lived in when they were all together for an evening, but that doesn’t happen anymore, not with the entire group. Johnny stays home if he knows Simon will be attending the night out, and Simon, if informed Johnny wants to be with the team, elects to remove himself from the situation for everyone’s comfort. He figures it’s the least he can do. He’d slept with his best mate’s sister, he’d fallen in love with his best mate’s sister, and so he has taken on the consequences, no matter how infuriating and unreasonable and unfair. 

“You want another, Honey?” the bartender asks. She grins. Her eyes shine with desire, as they have all night, and it might be a pleasant sight if Simon had never met you. He might’ve taken her home, fucked her like a toy until he was spent and she was happily ruined by his cock before he kicked her out. But she isn’t you. No woman is you.

“Keep ‘em comin’,” Simon replies, downing the amber liquid in his glass. 

Suddenly, the stool beside him slides across the hardwood floor, now occupied by a newcomer he wouldn’t hesitate to shove to their ass if he could do so without causing a scene. What kind of rude bastard risks sitting next to someone when ten other seats are open?

“Actually lass, do me a favor and cut ‘im off. I need ‘im in his right mind.”

Simon almost chokes at Johnny's voice but he doesn’t turn his head as he slowly sets the glass back down on the counter, his fingers tightening around it. Anger, confusion, pain, anxiety. It all crashes over him in a hefty wave, because rolled into this one man is both the friend Simon has missed for months and the asshole who has forced him to be apart from the love of his life. And it’s almost too much to handle at once.

“I’ll take his drink,” Johnny tells the bartender, who has lost all hope now that the man she’s been attempting to charm is no longer lonely enough to be convinced to take her home. When she places the glass in front of him, he takes a sip. “You look like shit, Ghost.”

“What do you want?”

“We got a problem,” Johnny says, getting right to it. “A bit of a disaster, really, and I gave it my best shot, but I can’t fix it.” Simon blinks. His brows pinch. Johnny drains the remainder of the alcohol and wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm. “She’s miserable. And considerin’ the timeline, I’d wager it’s because she’s without you.”

Simon’s heart—though had fallen from his chest months ago—sinks lower into his gut. 

“Look, I didn' believe it was that deep,” Johnny continues. “Figured you were jus’ messin’ around. Being stupid and disrespectful with my baby sister. But I cannot have her miserable, Ghost. It won’t do.” He looks at Simon and releases a long sigh. “She loves you. I don’ like it but she does, and you need to make it better.”

“What exactly are you askin’ of me?”

Johnny’s eyes land back on the empty glass. He plants his elbows on the counter and rubs his fingers across his forehead, kneading the wrinkles. “Just…go to her, alright?”

That snaps Simon out of his grumbly attitude. “You serious?”

“Unfortunately,�� Johnny says. 

Simon practically leaps out of his seat, nearly knocking the stool to the floor as he shrugs on his jacket. He’s almost at the door, but then he stops. Taking a breath, he turns back to his old friend. “Will you be able to handle this?” Simon asks. “Me and her? Because you can't ask me to let her go, Johnny. Not twice.”

Johnny takes a second, then he gives a brief nod. “I’ll adjust. Somehow. With time; lots of time.”

It isn't much reassurance, but it's enough for Simon to be on his way. He rushes out the door, jumps into his truck, and races down the road. He forgets the seatbelt. Ignores the speed limit signs. You don’t live far, and you’re worth the risk if it means getting to you faster. 

He knows the elevator in your building is much too slow because he’s been in it a hundred times. He has made out with you in it; fucked you in it, slamming the emergency button so no one could interrupt on the nights you couldn’t wait to get to your bedroom. So he takes the stairs. Two at a time, up eight flights, and down the hall. With a heaving chest, he bangs on your door. 

“Love, open up!” He knocks harder. Loud enough to make your neighbor pop her head into the hall to understand the ruckus. 

“Oh, wonderful. You've returned,” the old woman huffs. “And just when I was starting to believe I’d never again have to endure listening to that moaning and groaning at all hours.”

“We talked ‘bout this back in June, Mrs. Brimsby. Get yourself some earplugs,” Simon retorts before calling for you again. “Baby, please, it‘s me!”

“I’ll report the two of you for the noise.”

“You probably should. You’re in for a long night.” He hears a scoff but doesn’t bother to glance in the direction it comes from. 

“Still so disrespectful,” she spits before slamming the door to her apartment. 

Simon has held a low level of hatred for the old bat since the morning after the first time you’d slept together. It was an early Sunday full of soft touches and kisses and tea to nurse the mild hangovers you’d both had because of a couple of drinks the night before—the drinks that allowed the two of you to finally surrender to the sexual tension. After kissing you goodbye, he’d stepped out of your apartment with a smile he hadn't donned in quite some time, only to have it wiped away from the unexpected grandma in a collared nightgown tapping her foot as she stroked the fur of the cat in her arms. 

“You kept us up all night,” she had scolded. “We need our sleep.” The cat then hissed for emphasis. 

Now, Simon has never been so happy to have that woman blathering in his ear. She reminds him of home, because home is with you and this is where you are. Getting yelled at shoots him into the memories of the time you spent together all those months ago. The stupidly high levels of bliss that, based on the trajectory of his life at the time, he’d assumed was more of a myth than anything. But you had made it real. You had soothed the pain. You were the patch on his wounds; the brightest spot in his life which dimmed the trauma and horrors. 

He’s so lost in those thoughts that he doesn’t immediately notice when his banging fist plummets through the air.

“Si?”

At your voice, Simon’s mind instantly clears. His eyes meet yours.

“Fucking finally,” he mutters, not letting a beat go by before he’s bending at the knees, wrapping his arms around your waist, and lifting you up. Instinctually, your arms snake around his neck, your legs circle his hips, and he feels his cock begin to swell from the reminder of how natural that action is for you. How right it is that you fit together like lock and key. 

Many questions are brewing in your eyes, but you don’t ask them. You kiss him instead, hard and thoroughly as he carries you into your apartment and kicks the door closed behind him. When he sits you atop your kitchen counter and settles himself between your spread legs, his hands go everywhere; under your sleep shirt, up the curves of your body to squeeze your breasts then back down to your hips. His palms slide around to your ass and jerk you closer so the center of those thin little shorts is pressed against the mound protruding from his jeans. 

Buttons scatter across the tile from his impatience, unwilling to delicately undo each tiny closure of your shirt. Your fingers trickle lower on his body to the belt buckle you quickly undo and the zipper you harshly yank down. He’s about to tell you to lift your hips, but you do so without his command, shimmying out of your shorts, and Simon takes the chance to do the same, pushing his pants just below his ass. He springs free, the heavy column of flesh landing at your navel. 

Leaning back, you guide his cock through the slickness of puffy lips into your tight, clenching walls. It sucks the air from his lungs. His head falls to your shoulder as you both try to breathe at a steady pace. His hands brace on the counter on either side of your body, nails digging into the granite. Home.

“Simon…baby, you have to move,” you pant. “I c-can’t take it.”

“I’ve got you,” he whispers in your ear before lifting his head and placing a quick peck on your mouth. Shifting his hips, he pulls out and then slowly eases himself back inside of you. His groan drowns out the sweet song of your moan. “I’ve got you, love.”

—

“Your neighbor still hates us, jus’ so you know,” Simon says as he slides under the sheets. Were he not so exhausted, he’d chuckle at the idea of being beside you in your bed and not immediately trying to fuck you, but after the kitchen counter, then the couch, then the living room floor, you’re both worn out and in need of a good night's sleep. “Probably more now than she did before.”

Normally, you would have found his words amusing, but you remain silent on your back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Simon raises a brow and flips onto his side. Then he sees the tear slip from the corner of your eye down to your ear. 

“What're you thinkin' about, love?” he asks as he places his hand on your cheek and turns your face toward his. 

“I'm scared,” you tell him. “I've missed you so much, but the second you leave, everything will go back to how it was without you. That broke me the first time, Si. How do I go through it all over again?”

His eyes pinch tight and he sighs in shame. He should have told you. It should have been the first thing out of his mouth, but then he saw you and he needed you and that was all that mattered in the moment. “Baby,” he begins, brushing the hair back from your face. “I'm not leaving you, and we are not goin’ back to that, ok?”

“But Johnny—”

“We don't need to worry about Johnny.”

Your eyes widen. “What? Why not?”

“Because, love,” Simon says, his hand finding the middle of your back and snuggling you into his chest, “Johnny sent me.”

@universitypenguin @ghostslittlegf

[httpiastri]

hiii! i would like a ❣️ but with voicemails from the drivers hinting that they like you? we have mostly the same favorite drivers so just write for whoever you think would be good 😌

❣️ – send me a prompt and one/a few drivers and i'll tell you how i think they would react!!

(featuring: lando, charles, alex, oscar, ollie, paul, arthur, pepe and clem)

lando norris

"i think you should come visit me in monaco more. you know that the bed in my guest room is always made for you. and i put on those sheets i know you like, and i have those fragrance sticks with the rose scent, you said you liked them last time you visited me. well, i mean, my room and my bed is always ready for you, too. and i'll be in it, so… *chuckle* my mind just keeps wandering off to when you were here a few nights ago, and… i think… honestly? i think you should move in with me. okay, that sounds crazy and impulsive and like i haven't thought this through, but i really have given it a lot of thought. i want you to move in here. don't worry about the expenses, i can take care of it all. and a moving truck to get your stuff, i'll pay for it. just… think about it, will you? don't just laugh it off. i'm serious about this."

charles leclerc

"i just got back to the apartment, and it's... so quiet without you here. i keep thinking about the last time we made dinner together and how you laughed so hard at my terrible cooking that the neighbors came over to complain. i'm still scared of meeting them in the stairwell. maybe next time, you should be the one to take charge and show me how it's done? save me from another disaster? or we could go out, whichever you prefer. i just really want to see you again. and not die from food poisoning."

alex albon

"the other day, you mentioned not having a necklace that fit the new top you bought. and for some reason, i just happened to find myself right outside a jewelry store today. so i went in and bought you something. the lady in the cash register told me that a longer chain with a pendant would fit a v-neck top best, so that's what i got. it's gold, of course, i wouldn't dare buy you anything silver after you lectured me about having a warm skin tone for half an hour... i don't know, i just wanted to tell you this so you don't run around stressing about having to buy a new necklace. i can drop by yours with it if you want me to. or if you want to wear the top tonight, i'll give it to you when i pick you up."

oscar piastri

"hey, i just wanted to check in with you, make sure you're okay. are you? *pause*. what he said tonight, that was... it wasn't right. you don't deserve that. he was wrong, he has no idea what he's talking about. please, call me when you get this."

ollie bearman

"can i come straight to yours from the airport? you don't have to hug me before i shower, i might be full of flight germs, but... i just want to see you. and i'm pretty sure i forgot my favorite sweater at your place last time i went to visit you. you know, the blue one?... i think you know. not that i want it back, you can keep it if you like it. i know you look cute in it... that's beside the point. i'll tell the taxi driver your address, let me know if you don't want me coming over. see you soon."

paul aron

"some kids are building a snow fort down the street. you know, in the park where we had that picnic last summer? one of them has slipped and fallen right onto his butt about ten times now, it's hilarious. i wish you were here to see it, you would've laughed your ass off. *pause*. wish you were here for other reasons, too. but... just one more week, right?"

arthur leclerc

"i may have had a bit too much wine but i needed to call you and tell you what i just realized. you have the prettiest eyes in the world. they are gorgeous. i want to trade eyes, if i have your eyes then i would be able to get any girl – but i still only have eyes for you. haha, get it? because they're your eyes? *pause*. why are you not answering? did you hang up on me? oh, is this voicemail? did you not think i was important enough to pick up the call? even at three in the morning, you should only think about me."

pepe marti

"i know i said i was going to call you tomorrow, but i just realized. i forgot to tell you something. sebastian is throwing a party this weekend- i think it's more of a housewarming-gathering-thing, and i wasn't really feeling like going, but... i would love to introduce you to some of my friends. they're all really nice, i promise you, and if you ever feel even slightly bad, we can leave instantly. i just want to show you off, i guess? everyone would be so jealous- i didn't mean it like that, i made it sound like- i'm sorry. just please, come with me. it would mean the world to me."

clement novalak

"i went by that bookshop i know you like. the cute little one near the subway station, right by the park? and i... i had some time to spare, so i went in. just to look around at first, but then i wanted to ask the woman who works there if they have that book you were talking about. but i just couldn't remember the name of it, so i tried to explain it to her based on what you told me weeks ago, but i was just rambling... but i think she managed to find the right one. hopefully. and when we went to pay, she asked if she should wrap it and i said 'sure', but when she asked who it was to, i froze... so the wrapping has little hearts on it, i hope that's okay. i'll see you tonight, right? can't wait."

[apparentlytheproblem]

Theodore nott x Gryffindor fem! Reader fluff and soft smut she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost reading with her holding the book and Turing the pages while she keeps reading it and it’s super smutty (maybe the actors spin-off book abt nesta and cassian-) and she just traces his arm veins while they read (and if you decide to make it smutty pls make the reader LOVE LOVE LOVE his hands, abs, arm viens-)

a l l u r i n g

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- theodore nott

a/n: hullo, I have my midterm math exam on Monday so its all rushed and i barely have time to post but this has me screaming and crying all at once. i could not find any hardcore smut from a court of silver flames , I couldn't find any hardcore smut from court of silver flames, I'm so sorry abt that. the scene you're reading out loud is written by none other than @lustingbones, featuring Dick Grayson. I've written her fanfic in cursive so as to not get confused. she has single handedly created an obsession for nightwing in me. here's the link to the inspiration :) requests are forever open, luv, teddy

requested- yes

warnings- mf this is an advanced apology, i've never written smut. i've never even held someone's hand romantically, hell, i can't even keep eye contact, soft smut, fluffy, vulgar language, they both are minors, no protection is mentioned, it might make you uncomfortable, the reading of smut, the writing of smut

The sleeves of your black satin shirt had already fallen down your arms, the shirt itself was only being held up by two thin chains over your shoulder. it was basically as good as transparent, there wasn't a thing you couldn't see through it.

Theodore had leaned himself on his bedpost, his shirt was long gone. You were reading to him, your legs were on either side of his hips, your ass was cupped by his hand as he found utter joy in this situation. Your breasts were Infront of his face as he struggled not to get hard under you so quickly. Theo was never this grateful for being taller than you, he could just look down at you and get a perfect view. he wanted nothing more than to hold them in his hands and squeeze it or just rip the shirt off at this point.

"He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out."

your flingers grazed the hoops of his trousers, hooking them absentmindedly. sometimes they paused and was placed next to his hips.

“D-Dick, p-please baby-” a hitch in your voice. you could feel your pussy, but more than that, you could feel a lump in his pants.

"its so attractive when you say baby like that, but when i fuck you, its gonna be theo" he mumbled by leaning closer to your ear.

all you could do is nod as he signaled for you to continue.

“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you."

Theo's eyes were fixated on you. the way your voice was wavering, the way you squeezed your thighs, how a blush crept to your face. he loved how you got so shy with the pregnancy kink. it made him wonder if she had one herself.

"you're into that? why read about it when i can give you the full experience in 6D?"

you tried to waver him off, this was the last thing you needed in this situation

" "All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good.."

you could feel your own pussy throbbing. If you were being honest to yourself, you were thinking about you and Theodore. your head keeps going to the idea of him saying this to you, doing this to you and feeling him so hard just got you more turned on.

“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly."

your palm grazed his veiny arms, has he been working out? they've gotten so big..

“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up."

from palms to fingernails, they slowly trail up his forearm and roamed around his chest.

"Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back."

you find yourself adjusting to place your pussy right above his cock. you could see his face trying to not to show any signs of satisfaction. that was all you needed.

“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you." 

all he could concentrate about is trying not to break character. his eyes fixated on the elegant curve of your back beneath the clear fabric. her rough voice ran through his head in circles. he lifted an arm from his side, letting it play with the bottom buttons, almost only leaving one left. The only thing covering you up.

“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence."

you ran your arms down his abs, he loved your not so secret fixation you had for them. but you loved it more.

"You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you."

“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. "

“So, help me..”

Theodore was done. He gently picked the book from your hand and placed it on his nightstand. both his hands went under your thighs as to place you on the bed so he could tower over you, his chain dangling Infront of your eyes.

"hi handsome" you said peering up to him. you pulled his arm to examine it. his veins looked so hot, just absolutley lovley to have around you.

"hey beautiful"

you take his hand, a quiet smile made way too your face as you rest it on your breasts

Theodore felt your hands as it unzipped his trousers leaving him in boxers. your hand slid up and down his dick in slow strokes, just to drive him mad.

he takes her into my arms still kneeling, hitching your leg around his torso before pulling you as close as possible. The kisses you shared were soft, unbothered needy but never rushed.

[todorokies]

cherry blossoms, tarot cards & chamomile - suguru geto

contents: sfw, fluff, meet-cute at book store, fem!reader, strangers to potential lovers, mentions of curses & whatnot, tarot cards reading,, 1.5k words.

a/n: this one goes out to the hopeless romantics who wanna fall in love in a bookstore aka me (we hear & see you)

spring has sprung as one would say. the pale snow that covered the ground has melted away, which in turn allows the freshly cut grass to flourish.

cherry blossoms had recently littered the streets alongside the sidewalks, with each petal engaging in a unique twirl that fluttered like a dragonfly before angelically collapsing on the concrete.

with spring came along new missions suguru would have to endure either by himself or with his trusted friend —and nuisance— satoru. as curse energy that once accumulated during the toughest season gets released during the warmer seasons.

today was different however, the pair had been sent into town to retrieve a relic from the past of jujutsu history; a two thousand year old book that slipped out of the archives and has been rumoured to be contained in a bookstore hidden in the nooks of jimbocho.

“the warm breeze outside might fix the low oxygen levels in your heads.” yaga sarcastically reasons when satoru made his complaints about the origins of the mission known.

the raven haired sorcerer reprimanded his tone but expressed his concerns in a more diligent manner. anyone with half a brain would know it would take many decades to successfully pawn through each and every bookshop in the jimbocho district for a specific book, that neither of them even have the slightest clue as of what it looks like.

nonetheless, they were shooed off campus with a pat on the back and a simple: “you’ll know it when you see it—or rather feel it.”

suguru now navigated through the busy streets alone, —his white haired companion taking off a few hours ago on his own journey— with both hands in his pockets taking in the simplicities of life that surrounded him while keeping his eyes sharp for any unusual curse energy.

each corner he’d turn the storefronts would be filled with colourful book spines neatly lined adjacent to one another. the harsh sound of crimped sandpaper occasionally made its presence known when a costomer would flip through the pages.

a bitter earthly aroma tangoed with the wind. one would simply scrunch their nose up and turn the other way but for suguru, the olden smell of books filled him with comfort.

elderly couples hand in hand, a few children accompanied by their parents, and the complementary store cats that would linger in the isles or be found curled up on a random stack of books.

after roaming about and checking a few stores for their recent inventory stock, suguru oddly felt inclined towards a particular store that was larger than the others.

he enters, a ring of a bell from above signals his arrival. immediately, the smell of different assortments of tea wafts in and lingers in his nose.

a café combined with a bookstore…that’s definitely convenient. he eyes the ‘ring for assistance’ bell that rest apon the main counter, he lightly scoffs before ringing it.

“how many times do i have to tell your ass, no, you can’t conduct a séance he—” you round the tight, abelit, breathable corner to face the person it seems you weren’t expecting. you slightly jump back in a frightened manner then regain your composure, or more so, your customer service demeanour.

“my apologies! business is slow today and i thought a rather persistent costomer had came back. do you need help with a book or would you like to order something?” you enunciate your words with care, trying to not let any vocal cracks slip as you fiddle with your colourful apron which is a rather stark contrast from your all black work uniform. 

suguru would pride himself as goal oriented man. the kind demands of asking to take a look at your recent stocks to see if the cursed book has fallen onto your shelves nearly wavers past his lips but the faint smell of his favourite tea clouds his better judgement.

“yes, i’d take chamomile tea with honey please.”

“coming right up!” you popped the ‘p’, scurrying off into the back to prepare his choice of beverage. alone with his thoughts again, suguru observed his surroundings with more caution.

the store has a whimsical charm to it. different array of ambiance lighting scattered throughout the establishment, vintage burgundy rugs made an appearance here and there, a few wooden chairs cushioned by velvet and a long couch that looks as if it has been passed down through many generations.

a sturdy coffee table in the middle and of course, the probably hundreds of thousands books neatly tucked in the shelves.

he wonders if you run this big place by yourself, must be a hassle if you do. he also wonders why a séance was mentioned by you in an irritated tone. maybe it could connect to his current mission? he plans on subtly bringing the topic up.

“one chamomile with honey!” you cheerfully announce handing over his mug. you don’t miss the way your heart skips a few beats when your fingers accidentally brush against his.

suguru nods his head to express his thanks. while digging for his wallet he brings up what’s been on his mind, “what was that séance you were talking about before?” he lightheartedly inquires.

you cautiously look over your shoulders and nibble on your bottom lip, as if you were scared someone might hear, “nothing too serious i suppose. these past few days business has plummeted cause there’s been talk about how this place is haunted.”

a small beat passes.

“which it isn’t by the way! just some silly stuff kids say when they wanna get under uncle daichi’s skin,” you grimace.

you then go on a bit of a tangent about how the alleged “hauntings” started a few weeks ago, just about the same time you gotten a new inventory restock. books would fly off shelves, unnerving whispers can be heard, lights would flicker and the atmosphere would turn unsettling.

suguru is unfazed yet intrigued by this, he calmly listens as his sharp eyes never leaves your face. he notices how animated your expressions are when retelling the events; you talk heartily with your hands as well as your voice that creates a certain bass to match your feelings.

he hums as he takes a slip from his mug, “can you show me the known hotspot for these hauntings?” you nod eagerly and swiftly move from your spot at the front desk to the back of the store.

yaga wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be able to feel the cursed book, as the cursed energy in the air multiples a tenfold when they step into the secluded part of the store the lighting couldn’t reach. he wonders how a cursed object this powerful was able to conceal itself from being spotted for so long.

suguru plucks the hefty grimoire off the shelf, small dust particles flying in its wake, “i’d like to purchase this one.” you look at him as if he grew an extra pair of eyes, but quickly shrug off any confusion and lead him back to the front of the store to cash him out.

as you progress his payment you feel conflicted about letting this particular stranger go so soon. holding him up for a few minutes couldn’t hurt, right?

“uhh.. wait, with each purchase a tarot card reading is offered free of charge. would you like to know what the future potentially has in store for you?”

suguru presses his lips in a thin line and sighs. he doesn’t have time for this and doesn’t believe in cards beholding a hidden future, however he is a sorcerer and just bought a book that would be a danger to society if not soon contained. raining on other peoples parade simply isn’t his forte.

he softly smiles with his eyes turning into crescent moons, “hit me.”

you try to conceal your excitement as you bring out a deck bound together by a rubber band. you start shuffling until four different cards slip out of the deck.

death, judegment, eight of cups, and the lovers.

“intresting…don’t be too alarmed by the death card, it could indicate the decay of a friendship that doesn’t hinder towards your beliefs or an troublesome habit finally coming to an end.”

you continue, “judement and eight of cups go hand in hand as your new calls for action may put certain things into perspective for you, as this chosen path may lead to dissatisfaction.”

“and finally, the lovers card is the nice light at the end of the tunnel. someone you can confine in and pour your heart out to; tarot cards can be interpreted in millions of ways so, take what i say with a grain of salt.” you smile as you put the cards away to bid the stranger farewell.

suguru stares astonished absorbing this information, you’re good. he’ll give you that. “well..thanks for the reading and the tea, have a great day.”

and just like that, he turns his back to leave until he stops just in front of the door. “oh, and i can assure you the ‘hauntings’ should come to an end now.” he smirks and waves you goodbye.

you smile until he fully leaves which is when the realization hits that you didn’t even get the chance to get his name, you frown and groan into your palms.

maybe he’ll swing by again…hopefully.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[ellemarianne555]

Something Wicca This Way Comes

Author’s Note: I wanted to write something different, so read at your peril whoooo.

Summary: Aegon thinks his girlfriend might be a witch. Very halloweeny, get your pumpkin spice candles out and grab a cup of tea. Medieval AU, no specific time period or place but beware of ye olde dirty talk.

Word Count: 3k ish

Content Warnings: mdni, sex dreams, fingering, ass play (male receiving), eating out, brief 69ing, face sitting, unprotected sex, sickly sweet smut.

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Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, wasn’t sure what led him to a gingerbread house in the middle of the night. He also wasn’t prone to listening to his subjects’ requests, but their complaining had somehow roused him from his normal nap during the afternoon appointments.

He opened his eyes blearingly, he had gotten rather well acquainted with a jug of wine and a rather attractive wench the night before. Sadly he had fallen asleep before their union had been consummated. And had woken up rather early in the morning with his face in a tankard of ale and the tavern closed. He had barely stumbled back to the Red Keep before Aemond had rudely roused him from his slumber and forced him to come listen to these peasants complain. But mentions of a witch had unfortunately rattled around in his head and forced him from his sleep.

“We believe there to be a witch in the woods, Sire.” The peasant who spoke trembled, his clothes filthy and looking as though they were beginning to mould.

Aegon harrumphed crossly, sliding his eyes to Aemond who was standing in his usual position, chest puffed out and chin high, beside the throne.

As if sensing his disbelief, Aemond opened his mouth and boomed pompously; “This wretch speaks the truth, my Lord. My knights have found mysterious things throughout the Black Forest that can not be explained.”

“Such as…” Aegon droned, he was already bored of this. Who was he to care if some witch had been turning pumpkins into mouses or what not.

“I can not explain exactly, but the trees no longer seem the same. It is almost like… they can speak.” The peasant hung his head shamefully as though he knew what he was saying was ridiculous. Aegon rolled his eyes and slumped back into his throne. How much longer did he have to sit through this? Surely being a King was less about sitting on his ass and more about doing something heroic. He remembered the stories his nursemaid had told him, of brave kings who had vanquished mortal enemies. All he seemed to be vanquishing so far were the brothels.

“Last night, my Lord…” Aemond drawled, his sharp tone cutting into his brother’s fantasies of donning a suit of armour and being embraced by a fair maiden. “The night patrol reported their horses had been mysteriously cut from their posts while at a stream, and ran faster than the wind through a river that appeared out of thin air. When my soldiers tried to cross, it was though their feet had turned to stone until they waded back to the shore.”

“Well, all this could be simply explained by the weather!” Aegon spluttered. “There hasn’t been a witch in the kingdom… since, well…” He finished, unsure of exactly when. All he knew from his childhood stories was that witches were fearsome creatures, with soft hair and sharp teeth who lay in wait for handsome men. What they did with these men was never known, but they never returned home.

“Well, brother.” Aegon spoke slyly, “Your people demand a solution.” The peasant looked up from his dirt-crusted nails and nodded frantically. “Please, sire. No one will travel through our woods and our town has already lost business with neighbouring villages who refuse to come barter.”

Aegon frowned, he hated when his brother put him on the spot like this. Aemond had been baiting him his entire childhood, and once they both matured, his resentment had turned into a bitter jealousy. But he was a competent Hand of the King, and the soldiers were fiercely loyal to him.

“Well… I shall ride out there and show this creature who truly rules these lands!” The king burst out. Fuck, he’d just said that out loud hadn’t he. He’d been trying to think what the knights from the stories would have said, and in reality he just sounded like a pompous twat. A pompous twat who had just promised to charge into the hinterlands and go hunt down some imaginary threat. Well he had to go now, Aemond would never let him live it down if not. Aemond smiled, as his eye slid across to where his brother sat, what a fool.

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The woods were dark that night, and every screech an owl made pricked Aegon’s skin with fear. Still his horse plodded on into the looming blackness, oblivious to his riders agitation. Aegon had crossed the river that Aemond had spoken of, and found that the water did not slow him or Sunfyre down. Instead it almost seemed to flow faster, the brook babbling as though to whisper encouragement in his ear and spur on their movements.

Aegon gripped the reins tighter as they crossed a broad clearing, and suddenly the trees started whispering to him, as the beggar had said. “Come closer…” They teased, their soft fronds stroking his hair softly as if in a lover’s embrace. Yet when he whipped around with his sword raised, they seemed to melt back into the darkness.

A little while later, Sunfyre suddenly stopped, halting his feet to the ground as though refusing to go any further. Aegon tied him to a tree stump and left him munching on a carrot, while he began to creep towards the house in the distance. The lights in the windows seemed to twinkle at him in invitation. The house was decorated in soft swirls of pastel icing, the door knocker a lacquered candy that looked as though it would freeze your tongue if you dared to lick it. Aegon had dared to lick many things in his lifetime, but wisely decided to draw the line here. He gulped, there really was a witch in his kingdom. He reached for the sword sheathed in his scabbard, but before he could; the door flew open.

The woman standing there in the doorway was possibly the most beautiful he had ever seen. And that was saying something, Aegon had bedded many a beautiful women in his time. But there seemed to be something unnatural about her beauty, her eyes glowed a little more vibrantly, her hair that flowed seemed to sway in the wind though no breeze blew. And shit, she smelled great. Aegon cursed himself mentally. Most women normally smelled good, but this one smelled like she had soaked in cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar. The warmth radiating from her seemed to soak through Aegon’s clothes. Genuinely, he was starting to sweat.

“I-I’m sorry to disturb you at such a late hour.” Aegon spluttered, unsure of what was coming out of his mouth. Was he really apologising to a witch? The same witch whose door he had come to in order to rid her from these lands?

You smiled wolfishly, and was it his imagination or did your teeth seem a little sharper than most? You leaned against the doorframe, almost seductively. Aegon gulped, this really wasn’t going well for him. “Yes?” You questioned, an eyebrow raised in amusement. It wasn’t so often that such handsome men came to your door, you were used to the solitude of the woods you travelled through. Never stopping for long before the pitchforks and angry mob loomed over your peaceful existence.

A black cat rubbed against your ankles, purring loudly. This seemed to shake the beautiful stranger out of his stupor.

“W-well, I came here to ask you a question.” He again stammered, seeming to have lost his ability to talk to women. An ability he had once prided himself on, his slick tongue had made many women cry out in ecstasy but not in laughter as this one seemed to be struggling to hold back.

“You better come in then.” You smiled, and before he knew it, Aegon had walked into your house as he heard the door creaking to a close firmly behind him.

The house was surprisingly cosy, snug compared to his own apartments, yet warm and inviting nonetheless. The cat moved from its position around your ankles, and lept onto a soft chair by the fire. It began to lick itself, utterly bored with whatever the stranger had come to say.

“Tea?” You smiled bewitchingly, with those same strange teeth of yours. Aegon wondered what if would feel like for them to sink into his neck amidst the throes of passion. He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts, but you viewed it as a rejection to your invitation and frowned. Shit, how did he make you stop doing that.

He opened his mouth as if to apologise, but you held out a pale, long finger as though to halt his speech. “Let me guess… you are the lord of these lands and have come to ask me to leave.” Aegon froze, it was almost as if, well you were a witch.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, I only move when the moon is waxing or waning. And tonight, there is no moon.”

“My subjects are scared of your presence.”

“Not everyone is so brave as to come see for themselves. But I am a peaceful witch.”

Aegon frowned, he had never heard of a benevolent witch before. But then again, so many stories of your kind lay shrouded in fear and confusion. Many men could not comprehend the idea of an immortal beauty who lived alone and kept to herself. What is strange is often feared, and what is beautiful is not always understood.

“Why don’t you stay for the night?” You questioned and his eyes suddenly caught on how your body was illuminated by the firelight. The glow of the embers illuminated your silhouette under the previously unremarkable black dress. The material seemed to be otherworldly, shimmering in the warm glow and looking soft to the touch.

“Well… The way back to the castle is far and I am not quite sure where I left my horse.” You grinned again, delighted that he was so open to suggestion. You would have fun later, if the way he was eyeing you up was any hint.

“I insist you sleep down here by the fire.” You pointed to a soft rug that suddenly seemed to materialise out of nowhere. Yawning, he suddenly found himself very tired and before he knew it, he was sound asleep by the roaring flames.

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Aegon woke up sweating fiercely, even though at some point during the night the fire had gone out. He’d never had a dream quite like that before. Long, sharp nails scratching and carving up his back. Pointed incisors breaking his soft skin and the sharp, dull ache they had left made his cock throb. He had had dreams like this before, normally in his teenage years as he worked out his frustrations with a slick palm behind a locked door. But never had he woken with his dick throbbing this violently, it was hard and sore to the touch and he whimpered pathetically.

You were in his lap, tits almost smacking his face as you moaned desperately. He caught hold of your nipples in his mouth and nipped them sharply. If the way you were carving up his back with your fingernails was any indication, you liked a little bit of pain. His leaking cock was rubbing pitifully against your slick folds as you rocked against his length softly. The pace was torturous, yet he was out of breath. He couldn’t even remember his own name, where he was. Until you started gasping his name as you hit your peak, “Aeg-Aegon! Please don’t, d-don’t stop!”

“Aegon?” A voice broke into his dreams, and he furiously rushed to cover his aching cock with a soft blanket.

“I don’t remember ever telling you my name.”

You smiled, in a way that seemed to again mimic a predator eyeing up their next meal. “It was quite obvious, I’m afraid. The royal steed outside my cottage, your crest of armour and the insufferable air that only men in power have. Not to mention the smell.”

“The smell?” Aegon asked indignantly. “I will have you know I bathe at least thrice a week!”

You laughed, a sound that sent shivers across his skin. “Not like that. It’s more of a scent, royalty always tastes a little bit sweeter.”

He froze, seeming as if only to remember you were a witch. Sex dreams aside, this was very bad business.

“Are you going to eat me?” He choked out, at the words his prick seemed to pulse weakly at the thought of him eating you, or your cunt that is. Stupid cock, he moaned internally, I can never keep it in my pants even when I’m in mortal danger!

You laughed, “Is that what you think we do?”

“Well, the men you take never seem to come home.”

“Did you ever think they didn’t want to? I’m not keeping you here, you are welcome to leave at any time.” An elegant finger pointed at the front door. As it flew open, Aegon shivered, but not because of the cold air. Was he scared? He didn’t think so. In fact he was rather aroused.

His gaze was drawn to your blood-red lips, the way your skin seemed to glow brighter than the early morning sun, your breasts high and firm inside your sheer gown. It had never occurred to him that all those heroes in his childhood stories had found something better than killing the witch.

You noticed his gaze, and smiled somewhat shyly. The door closed, jolting Aegon from his blatant ogling. “You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. But I have a few things I need done around the house.”

That was how Aegon Targaryen, ruler of the seven realms, found himself sweating in an overgrown garden. The sun was beating down, hot and relentless, freckles bloomed across his shirtless, pale skin as he mopped his brow. He wasn’t used to hard labour, or really any labour. But it was strangely nice, doing something for someone else.

“Thirsty?” He turned, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight of you. Your hair flowed down your back and again seemed to catch in an imaginary breeze. You were barefoot, and despite the midday sun, not a drop of sweat hung from your smooth skin. He took the glass you offered, and swallowed down the liquid greedily. In his effort to quench his thirst, he had not bothered to ask what it was. It was sweeter than water, but not as heady as wine. He drained the cup easily, drops falling from his mouth and landing on his heaving chest. Your eyes traced the droplet, and you found your fingers tracing its path down his sternum. Down his pale, white abdomen to the thatch of soft blond hair that trailed down below his breeches. He groaned, as though he couldn’t help himself, watching those wicked incisors poke into your plump lower lip as you smiled.

“M-my lady.” He choked out as your fingers halted their path. You grinned wickedly, “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I’m not anyone’s lady.”

The kiss was sudden and bracing, it wasn’t like any Aegon had felt before. It was like his lips were on fire and he couldn’t get enough of the way your tongue snaked into his mouth. He deepened the kiss, crushing the hand in between you as he pulled you against his body.

“Is this alright?” He questioned, unsure if he was reading the situation correctly. You laughed, “I wouldn’t have sent those dreams if I didn’t want you.” His eyes widened and before he knew it, your dress had vanished. His eyes clung to every inch of you, luminous in the sun, sparkling almost.

Before he knew it, he was on his knees. And he knew it wasn’t witchcraft that had done it, but this need to have you, the earth soft below both of your bodies. His soft hands bracketed your thighs, forcing them apart slowly as his fingers traced his way up your dripping cunt. You groaned, hands wrapping in his hair, pulling softly as though he were a puppet and you were the one pulling the strings. Aegon smiled mischievously, he wanted to be the one in control. And from the second his fingers breached your cunt, he knew that you were both equally done for. The high-pitched cry you let out made his cock throb, and he was hyper aware of the fabric preventing his length from finding release against you. He pulled you down to the ground softly, as you smiled down at him. Your head blocked out the sun, and Aegon knew in that moment that he no longer needed its light. Not when he felt the warmth of your magically slick hand wrapping around his length.

He froze, his fingers halting his attack on your clit. You didn’t like that. You took his hand off his cock and whispered into his ear, “Make me cum first and then we’ll see if you deserve what comes next.” He groaned, head falling into your shoulder as fingernails scraped his back teasingly. He ate you out like a man starved, his tingue licking and kissing your cunt as if it were your lips. He crooked a finger inside you, at an angle that made your eyes roll back into your head. He certainly was a talented king. He groaned, furious red length smacking against your thighs as he hissed in agony. You took pity on him and laid him down softly, his eyes looked up at you questioningly as you wrapped those red lips around his cock. Aegon was now incapable of thought. But he saw the way your ass shook as you sucked up and down his length and pulled you over to him. You squealed around his dick as he positioned you so that you were sitting on his face. You moaned around his length again, the vibrations driving him crazy as he doubled down on his efforts to suck on your clit. He was fiercely competitive, you’d be the one coming first or he just might die.

You took what couldn’t fit in your mouth in your wrist and pumped him slickly. He groaned into your cunt and you had a wicked idea. You were a witch after all. Coating your fingers in his copious pre-cum, you traced down his balls until you found his tight entrance. “Is this okay?”, Aegon moaned into your folds in confirmation as your finger breached the tight ring of muscle. The reaction was instant as Aegon pulsed, hot and heavy in your mouth. He pulled his mouth from your cunt, gasping out as he released into your mouth. You kept your lips positioned around his cock, sucking him dry as he squirmed against you. Sharp nails piercing his thighs and forcing him to remain still, as he babbled incoherently. He lay there, panting on the soft earth for a minute. Before reaching for you and pulling you down beside him.

His fingers found your cunt again, and his thumb brushed teasingly against his clit as he again began pumping his fingers inside you. You both panted into each other’s mouths, his eyes soft with lust and sated as he traced his finger down your face and sweetly kissed your forehead. You bit down fiercely into his pale shoulder as you started to feel your release growing. You rocked against his fingers as he continued to hold you gently, through your orgasm and the resulting tremors that your cunt experienced as his fingers stayed buried inside you.

You lay next to him softly, aware that he would probably pull on his clothes at any moment and start his journey back home. Your heart ached a little bit, you hadn’t let a man into your home for many decades. You liked this one. He was soft and sweet. But in a way that made you want to keep him, let colour fill those pale cheeks and gaunt eyes.

“Would it be alright with you,” the king started, stopping hesitantly. “If I were to stay here for a while longer?” You grinned, your heart filling with hope and the soft promise of something starting anew as you tackled him back to the ground and kissed him fiercely.

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Author’s Note: Ah I hope you enjoyed! I quite like witchy reader, Aegon deserves to live his best cottage core life.