#pointer and constant

[foxmulderautism]

not about poetry but i don't trust people who go online spewing vague declarations of "in order to write you need to understand Form And Structure!!!!" because there's prose fuckheads who do the same thing where they just vaguely say you need to understand Structure before you write a novel, but by structure they usually just mean the three act structure and the hero's journey and they've never studied or considered how structure can function beyond that, especially in non-western/non-english writing theories. the minute someone is like ohhhh but the Structure.....in a vague manner like that i'm like okay so you don't actually know structure because if you had deeply studied structure in writing theory as you claim to have done, you would know how complex and fluid and varied and malleable it is and it's not just one thing you Learn How To Do like putting a table together. and it's not something you will one day know perfectly because you will, ideally, encounter new ideas to structure a story as you expand your reading and your own writing. anyway i'm done for now i'm logging off to read more filthy animals by brandon taylor, potluck was such a good short story collection opener. i'm excited to see how he links these stories into a structured collection. i'm excited to read family meal by bryan washington when i'm done because he did a lot of fun things with really short + really long chapters in memorial and i learnt a lot about structure and pacing from there.

[satoblue]

“TO BEG AND TO BARTER” — gojo satoru

satoru can’t help but be possessive over you even if the reason is rather silly, but why shouldn’t he? — when you belong to him? and it’s needless to say, his jealousy isn’t limited to humans either. | wc: 0.9k+

f!reader, established relationship, bickering and banter, satoru being dramatic (and jealous) as always, implied breeding at the end but all around fluff, mention of children, talks of becoming a furry, he’s not whiny the whole time (it’s just part of his master plan), a brief glimpse of cocky satoru. | heart divider by @/cafekitsune, swirl divider from pinterest + edited by me.

“satoru.”

“no.”

“i said i was sorry.”

“i don’t care!” his voice wobbles. “i-if you love him so much, just leave me for him!”

the words fly out of his mouth with all the confidence he could muster, but he regrets them as soon as they slip off his tongue.

“all i asked was to look at this picture. look, isn’t he cute?”, you coo, showing him your screen once more.

cute. CUTE?!

that seems to trigger satoru even more, and he whines, flopping onto the bed and kicking his feet back in the air like a child, punching the pillows as if they have wronged his whole bloodline.

“do you not care about me anymore — about us? is that why you’re doing this?”

the smack from your palm meeting your forehead is drowned out by his ceaseless tussle with the bedding.

“oh, please! you’re being ridiculous!”

“i am not!”

“yes, you are! satoru, i’m asking for us to get a cat! not to welcome someone into our bed!”

“i wouldn’t be surprised if you suggested that next…” he grumbles under his breath, momentarily pausing his tantrum in order to sass you.

“what was that?”

“nothing!”, he yelps.

you roll your eyes, growing tired of the conversation. it was a constant back and forth with him whenever you brought up the topic of getting a pet.

the both of you have the means to support one. the only problem is satoru. he didn’t want one. his reasoning is that, if you did, then he would have to share you, share your love and attention with another being — and he simply could not have that.

it was unacceptable, against the laws of (satoru’s) nature. your affection is meant for him and him only — it is his right as your husband.

sitting down on the edge of the bed, you huff, tossing the man-child a glance only to find him peeking up at you already with wide and pleading eyes, sniffling (though there was not a tear in sight) from behind the pillow covering half of his face.

“am i not enough for you?”, he speaks up quietly after the short-lived staring contest. at his self conscious words, your brows furrow, a frown on your lips.

“sator—” “you don’t need a cat if you have me! i can be your cat!”

oh?

“is that so?”

“yes. i’ll wear a fur suit and all. you can pet me whenever you feel the urge to. you always say my hair is super soft — like fur! i’ll make it even softer by using more conditioner if that’ll make you happy.”

“and, i wouldn’t mind being pampered some more...”, he adds on with a mumble, lips puckered into a kissy face as he reaches over and traces his pointer finger over the bare skin of your thigh in the shape of a heart.

as if he isn’t spoiled enough by you already.

“if anything, i deserve it!” he points his nose into the air.

you want to laugh out loud, but you manage to hold back, knowing if you did it would only offend your sensitive lover.

would satoru really resort to becoming a furry just to stop you? a part of you wants to see how far your husband would go for you — oh, wait, you already know. he never fails to show you everyday.

“that’s out of the question.” you reply quickly like it’s obvious.

“and why is that?”, he whines up at you.

“because, my darling husband, you are more akin to a puppy than a kitten.” you scratch his scalp. and just like magic, satoru leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he melts into the delicious feeling, and you swear you see a tad bit of drool pool at the corner of his lips.

“see?”, you tease.

“that proves nothing besides the fact i would be the perfect pet for you, my owner.”

you groan, and he relishes in the feeling that only he could rile you up so much like this.

satoru certainly has a way with words, and it is clear this is going no where, that is, until a thought pops into your head.

“and what if our future children want a cat?”

satoru pauses. that seems to capture his interest. he perks up, shuffling to sit. his demeanor shifts completely. gone is the pout which is replaced with his signature smirk.

“now you’re talking my language, sweetheart.”

“so that’s what makes you reconsider? a child in exchange for an animal?” your eyes widen in disbelief, tone exasperated, yet truly, not surprised. “was this your plan all along?”, you deadpan.

“maybe,” he flashes you a toothy grin, those blue eyes of his twinkling menacingly. though, it isn’t just any child, it is yours and his, a being created from your combined images — and he certainly doesn’t mind that. “but enough talking. we should get started on our kid if you want that cat of yours.”

there really is no way around this, is there? if there’s one thing about satoru, it is that he (and his stiffening cock) are just as persistent as you, annoyingly and endearingly so.

you sigh. “well, i must say, you drive a hard bargain, mr. gojo.”

with a pleased hum, he takes your wrist, pressing a soft kiss atop your dainty hand, a gentle smile creeping onto his lips, knowing he’s won this time.

“only when it comes to you, mrs. gojo.”

p.s. — you do indeed get your cat after this, and satoru gets his baby. a happy ending all around. the end : )

[slttygeto]

°˖➴ when your baby …— (JJK MEN)

જ⁀➴ featuring: nanami kento, kamo choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru and gojo satoru.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,6k

જ⁀➴ tags: fluff, pregnancy, birth, babies, domestic jjk men, they're all your husbands, them being perfect.

જ⁀➴ note: not proofread, some of these are a bit unrealistic, but keep in mind that it's fiction and i don't have a baby.

°˖➴ when your baby smiles for the first time: [nanami kento]

Birth was a blessing in itself, but having a partner as supportive as Kento made everything worth it, down to the sleepless nights you have been spending trying to get used to your baby’s constant need to be cuddled, fed and taken care of. You were frustrated, it was pretty evident by the tears welling up in your eyes every two seconds along with how you simply refused to be near anyone but your baby and Kento. Thankfully, he was always the one coaxing you to get out of the bed and sit on the balcony, have a full meal and relax while he took care of the baby.

On the outside, it seemed as though Kento had everything under control, and that nothing could affect him as long as you were okay. He never cried when you did (beside when he held the baby for the first time), and he made sure to validate your every frustration and fear, all while telling you that everything will be okay.

Which brings us to this moment, with both of you sitting on the couch with your baby on his lap. One of your favorite things about these nights was that Kento never skipped them and always made sure to play with your baby for a bit before helping you put her to bed. Even when he was incredibly exhausted.

Kento rocked your baby back and forth, enjoying the happy and curious noises leaving your daughter’s mouth. Your husband’s pointer was gently tracing her face, humming a soft tune about how adorable she was all while helping her be more aware of her body.

“And those are your eyes,” his tired voice came out. “And this is your nose,” accompanied with a boop, “and those are your precious cheeks,” a laugh escaped his lips when your daughter seemed to try to escape from the ticklish feeling of his finger and you chuckled at the scene. Your happiness was so contagious that your daughter’s lips twitched and a giggle escaped her lips.

“Oh,” Kento paused his movements but it only seemed to make your daughter giggle even more. “Look at you,” a smile broke on your husband’s face and he leans down to brush his nose against hers. “Is daddy your favorite comedian already?” And the louder her giggles got, the harder it was for your husband to contain his own laughter. He throws his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, and when he leans back down towards your baby girl, her smile only gets bigger and bigger.

You bring your legs up to your chest and watch the scene unfold with a heart full of love and adoration for your husband and the human being you both created. And when Nanami notices your silence, he supports his baby girl’s head with one hand and reaches his free hand towards your leg to caress it.

“Are you okay, darling?” To which you flash him with a smile that Kento could only describe as one that filled his heart to the brim.

“Never been better.”

°˖➴ when your baby first rolls over: [kamo choso]

You were well aware of how anxious and easily nervous your husband could get. Throughout your entire pregnancy, you were never allowed to be even a foot away from him. On a normal day, you would’ve asked for personal space, but lucky Choso, your pregnancy hormones seemed to make you even more attached to him.

Now that your baby boy was here, all of that anxiety and nervousness was doubled. Instead of worrying about one person and a bump, Choso had to make sure you and your baby were both okay all while trying not to tire himself to stay awake for you two. Night feeds were usually his favorite time of the day, despite your tired self and the sleepiness on your face, watching you try to hold your baby while feeding him always made him lean towards you and press a kiss to your forehead.

Your baby was about three months old when Choso started becoming even more involved with diaper and outfit changing. Not that he didn’t want to at the beginning, you were always far too nervous to let him do anything unsupervised. Your baby was currently on the bed while his father reached for the outfit that he laid out for him. And while Choso was always super careful, you had called out his name before walking into the room and so he turns his head to the door and is confused when you’re wide eyed and staring at the bed.

“What?”

“Look- the baby, Choso!” He turns to stare at his son and is pleasantly surprised when he notices that his son had fully rolled over and was now on his stomach. Your husband doesn’t say a thing as your baby makes noises, almost complaining to you both that he wasn’t seeing you and that his muscles were still too weak to support his head, so Choso rolls him on his back and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“…don’t you think it’s too soon for him to try to leave mid-conversation?”

“Baby,” you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“He’s moving too quickly! What do you mean he was able to roll over?” Your husband complains and he slowly dresses up your son.

“It just means our baby is healthy and functioning well.”

“Yeah,” Choso says softly before picking up your baby. “Our baby.”

°˖➴ when your baby starts crawling: [fushiguro toji]

Toji always thought that he didn’t deserve a second chance at life. He simply thought it was too late to start over, that was until he met you and you made him realize that ‘too late’ didn’t really have a place in your dictionary. You made him experience everything all over again; from falling in love to raising two healthy babies along with Megumi and Tsumiki. You gave him a second chance at being a father all while helping him fix his relationship with his kids.

You always made sure to help Tsumiki and Megumi with their homework while Toji stayed with your baby boy and baby girl. He would sit on the floor and watch as they struggled to even hold up their heads and try to reach for him.

“Come on now, I know you can do it,” Toji held the toy your baby boy was whining to his father to give him, and your husband was very stubborn about what his kids were capable of. Tsumiki and Megumi were already excelling at different sports and even academically, and despite you trying to convince your husband that your babies were only six months old, he wouldn’t listen.

Shifting his attention from his son to his daughter, he reaches for the toy in her hands and slowly takes it away from her. He watches as a pout forms on her lips and her eyes get teary almost immediately, and Toji has never believed in mother instinct as much as right now, because you burst out of the study room at the same time as your baby girl crying.

“Toji,” your disappointed tone as you walked towards the scene made the man turn back towards his babies.

“I just think they should be crawling by now.”

“They need time baby,” you step behind him and look over your baby girl who was trying to rub her teary eyes. “You can try by setting it in front of her, then she can try reaching for it.”

Your husband does as he is told and completely forgets about his son’s toy. Too focused on getting your daughter to move towards her toy, he fails to notice his son slowly crawling towards him to retrieve the small item sitting next to him but you do.

“Oh!” your gasp catches your husband’s attention and he immediately notices his son. “Come on baby! Good job!” Toji doesn’t waste time and turns back towards your daughter, gently coaxing her into moving towards her toy.

“Come on baby girl, come on,” it is very rare for Toji to be smiling so softly but whenever he was with his kids, his cheeks would end up hurting him from smiling too much.

Your daughter’s attention quickly shifts towards the person that walks out of the study room, and when her eyes fall on Megumi, a giggle escapes her lips and she starts moving towards her older brother. You and Toji watch in awe as Megumi sits cross legged on the floor and talks very softly to his baby sister, words of encouragement leaving his lips as your baby girl stops a couple of times and whines at the difficult task at hand.

“Just a bit more, come on,” But once in Megumi’s arms, the boy holds her carefully before walking back towards you and his dad. Toji stands up with his younger son in his arms before patting Megumi’s head.

“Good job, boy. You did well.” To which Megumi responds to with a shy nod before handing you his baby sister.

Moments like these sure made it feel like everything in life was worth it.

°˖➴ when your baby says their first word: [geto suguru]

You never knew you could fall in love twice until you saw your husband become a father to your beautiful baby girls. Not only was he supportive, which was obviously the bare minimum, he still managed to be present for all three of his girls at the same time. The girls were obsessed with their father, and rightfully so, but something you truly admired about your husband was that he made sure to include himself during their play time.

And despite your attempts at convincing him that play time meant playing with dolls and plushies, Suguru was adamant on teaching his little girls very interesting words that had their tiny eight month old brains almost short circuit.

“Sugu, easy there. They can’t possibly know what pontificate means.” You say followed with a low chuckle, watching as the man sat down on the floor with his legs spread wide open for his two girls to sit in the space there and glance at the book their father was holding.

“My girls are smart like their parents,” your husband says with a serious look on his face. “I need their first words to be something smart, something big…”

“I need something that screams Beyoncé,” you say jokingly and your husband shoots you a playful glare.

“Be serious.”

You squat in front of your baby girls and it immediately shifts their attention from the book Suguru was holding and you smile at that. You instinctively open your arms and wait for them to crawl towards you, but instead one of the girls looks back at Suguru and waits for him to look down at her.

“Mama,” your little girl turns to her sister before staring at you and starts crawling towards you and your jaw almost touches the floor.

“Did you just say mama?”

“Mamama,” your other daughter mimics her sister and tries to escape Suguru’s hold, but he catches her in his arms and his happiness seems to be a lot more obvious than yours.

“Yeah baby, that’s mama! She said mama, did you hear that?” You grab your baby girl who was crawling towards you and grin at your husband.

“Didn’t you say you wanted their first word to be something big?”

“You’re their everything, so it is something big.” There was no doubt that you picked the right person to father your children.

°˖➴ when your baby starts walking: [gojo satoru]

You’ve always known that your baby was going to be as hyper as Satoru. Ever since he was in the womb, your baby would not stop moving and kicking, it even resulted in him almost wrapping the umbilical cord around his neck but thankfully, the birth went great and he came out as healthy as ever.

Despite being so sure that the baby would be a carbon copy of his father, your baby boy ended up taking your every facial feature. Satoru couldn’t deny that he wished his baby had his white hair, but something about having a second human looking exactly like you melted his heart. But that was literally the only thing the baby had about you, just the looks. Because God, was he an active baby.

He was holding his head up and rolling on his stomach faster than you had expected, and since Satoru loved to test his boy’s limits, your baby ended up crawling soon after. Not even two months later, your baby was saying his first words and all you could do was nod and smile as people told you how unique your baby was, and a part of you could only wish that you would shelter him from all the attention he was getting. But he was a Gojo, and stuff like this was bound to happen.

But the moment your husband noticed your discomfort, he immediately stopped accepting people when they asked to come over. He was excited to become a father, but it wouldn’t be the same if it meant robbing you of the same place that was supposed to bring you comfort.

And apparently, only he could keep up with his son’s hyper self. Crawling from corner to corner, squealing in excitement and tossing his toys around, Satoru even encouraged his son to grab onto the couch and crawl around the space that was heavily baby-proofed.

“Ah, you’re so eager to walk, aren’t you?” Satoru teases his son as he tries to hold onto the couch and stand up. With a little bit of support on his bum, your baby managed to stand up but freezes there and turns his head to the side where his father was staring at him.

“What, are you scared? It’s not so fun anymore, hm?” Your husband teases your son who seems to be taking his father’s words not very well. He pouts and rests his head on the couch, refusing to look at his dad and Satoru laughs out loud.

“Come on, I was only joking, you’re good at everything just like your dad.” You eventually walk down the stairs and you raise an eyebrow at your pouting eleven month old son.

“What did you do?” you immediately pin the blame onto your husband who gasps and puts a hand on his chest.

“I didn’t do anything!” He pats your son’s bum as your baby’s wobbly legs try to move him around the couch and towards you. “He stood up and got scared, and I found it funny.”

“Oh baby,” you squat down to your baby’s level and reach out your hands to grab him. “Papa is so mean, isn’t he?”

“Am not,” Satoru rolls his eyes but he watches as your son reaches the end of the couch and hesitates to let go. You lock eyes with your baby, and your husband thinks it’s a beautiful example of mothers and babies silently communicating, because no words were exchanged yet your baby knew to trust you completely.

He doesn’t fall into your arms but instead, he pushes himself away from the couch and takes a very small step towards you. You try not to gasp in surprise, and you wait as he takes another step—then another, and another before falling in your embrace and both you and Satoru are wide eyed and surprised at what just happened.

“He just—“

“He walked!” Your husband jumps from his spot on the ground and takes your baby in his arms. “My son is one of a kind! I’m telling you, he will win a nobel prize—“

Satoru always found a way to be excited about any of his son’s milestones.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[a-simple-imagine]

Don't They Know a Rabbit Can't Cry

Synopsis: while travelling the witches' road you're forced to confront the two witches who left you centuries ago without an explanation.

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Words: 2.3k+

WARNINGS - swearing, choking, knives, nightmares, brief mentions of burning and being buried alive and playful use of 'mommy'

A LIFE ONCE LIVED //

It's a quiet evening as you pluck wildflowers in the wake of the setting sun. You would have to head home soon; to avoid the danger of navigating your way back in the dark. The older witch did not like you being out alone at night but you weren't quite done yet. The bouquet had to be perfect. Not that she would ever say otherwise. not to you anyway. Too soft. Too sweet. She had a soft spot for you. They both did. You twist the delicate stem between your fingers. Lavender. Beautiful. Intoxicating. And... hot. Sizzling against the pad of your pointer finger and thumb. And searing into the skin. You drop it quickly. Flames swallowing the single flower. Bizarre. You take another. plucking it from its spot. Flames shoot up from the ground surrounding you entirely. Red hot and roaring as the flowers make way for beautiful flames that dance in the breeze. Creeping closer and closer. Quicker and quicker. Until you feel it burn against your skin.

You jolt up. Sweaty and warm in the night's cold embrace. You're safe. Right now at least. No fire. No nothing. You rub your temple. Just a nightmare. They'd been more frequent as of late. Little flashes of the past engulfed in fiery fury. Fitting. The makeshift campsite was still. The ashes of the small fire dance in the breeze. Witches litter the ground in a moment of respite. You didn't know them but you imagine they're quite desperate. Most weren't brave enough to even dare travel the witches' road anymore. Pushing up you decide to go for a walk. Not far just enough to feel the cool air and calm your heart. Away from prying eyes. There wasn't much around here anyway.

"can't sleep?" it's a startling thing. To hear such a familiar sound so abruptly. It brings with it a quickened heart. A look of surprise. that voice. An unpleasant reminder of the past. That's all this trip seemed to be. A constant trip down memory lane. In many ways, you wish you had never agreed but maybe your darkened heart may still hold a few soft spots.

"just needed a minute alone,"

"That's a dangerous game around here," there is a playfulness to her tone. one that makes your jaw tense.

"can you just go away?" you ask. "I can't- I can't deal with this right now."

"playing hard to get?" just as playful but different. Still familiar. Annoyingly so. "what happened to that sweet girl who brought me flowers every day."

"don't," a threat. You wished not to relive the past right now. Not with them. They didn't deserve to remember you so fondly.

"made us little flower crowns." her voice travelled the woods. Surrounding you from all directions. Trapping you in your spot.

"stop."

"used to bring us fresh bread."

"fuck off," you bite back with an equally sharp turn. Subdued anger began to rise at the mere sight of them. Agatha Harkness. The harbinger of your nightmares. The years had been kind to her appearance but if rumours are to be believed she had a dark reputation. Evil. Soulless. Murderer. Maybe in another lifetime, you would have disagreed. A green witch stood to her side. Far enough away for you to know they weren't on good terms either. She sported a signature smirk you wanted to slap away. Rio Vidal. Infuriating in every conceivable way. They both brought different feelings. Similar but still different. "why can't you just leave me alone?

"we're only checking on you, dear,"

"After such a scary nightmare." Rio teased. "do you need to get in mommy's bed tonight?"

You take a deep breath. Don't raise to her level. Don't give her the satisfaction. It's not quite admitting defeat but you're tired. Falling against a nearby tree. "please leave." you let your head fall back against the bark.

"I'm sure Agatha won't mind,"

"leave the poor girl alone," as always Agatha comes in to mediate. It's always just a little misleading. The woman crouches down before you. Glassy eyes bore into yours and for a moment you're that girl again. The one they remember. Who picked flowers and planned picnics? Ran in the meadow and liked to sit at the edge of the lake. Who held on tight to Agatha's hand as she walked you home. You didn't have much back then. Lived in a small cottage in the woods with your family. The older witch came into your life so abruptly. Looking back on it now she probably just saw a naive girl she could play with. "are you okay?" her question brings you back to reality. The here and now. Stuck on the road with a bunch of washed-up witches and the two people you hate most in the world. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of reliving the past. The end seemed so far away. Who knows if you'll even make it that far with this useless bunch. "do you wanna tell us about it?"

"Agatha," said softly.

"yes, dear?"

"fuck. Off." quiet but firm. You can tell she wasn't expecting it. A little chuckle sounds from behind her. The witch raises.

"fine." Agatha answers. "forgotten how stubborn you can be." your eyes trail after her as she begins to walk away, Rio takes a moment before following. And the question that has been bubbling in your chest for centuries finally comes up.

"Why did you leave me?" they slow to a stop. Yet to turn back. Did you even really want to know the answer? Perhaps it was a question best left unanswered. Years of bitterness already seeped into your bones. Little to be said to make you less angry at them. Less murderous rage. "what did I do?"

"Nothing," Agatha urges. Short and simple. No explanation needed apparently. "don't stay up too late,"

"then why?" you asked again. a little louder. A little firmer. Why was she acting like this? Pretending she cared. It was infuriating.

"Just tell her," Rio presses, turning back to you.

"don't," Agatha places her hand on Rio's shoulder but that doesn't stop the green witch from sulking towards you. A malicious little smile.

"come on, look at her," a knife pointed in your direction as she makes her way over. "just as pitiable as she always has been." she crouches down in front of you much like Agatha had before. But you don't see that girl you once were. Her eyes fill you with anger. It's strange to think you used to admire her so. Used to put flowers in her hair, and she let you. The tip of her blade forces your head up ever so slightly. "A pathetic little girl. Scared of the world," a sharp pain. You swallow hard  "scared of anything real."

"Rio," Agatha walks up, towering over you two. "put it away,"

"Why should I?" she wonders. Pressing a little harder. "tell her."

"What happened to you?" Agatha questions. Your eyes flicker up to her. Did she really want to know or was it diversion. "where does this hate come from?"

"you left me," you reply. A loud bark of laughter from Rio as her blade lowers.

"no," the woman shakes her head slowly. "that's... not it."

"boring," Rio groans loudly. "I didn't lie, y'know? I know you don't want to believe me but it's true. Isn't it Agatha?" the woman rises to her feet. Patting the other witch on the shoulder. "we left because you were weak."

"it... it wasn't quite like that," Agatha offers out a hand. You brush it off, standing up. "we thought you'd be better off."

"alone?"

"without us." Agatha corrects. "you were so..." her eyes trail over you. "different back then. You didn't know you were a witch. You were just so..."

"innocent," Rio insists.

"no- well, yes but not in the way you might think. You just needed a push and we were being so careful,"

"soft," Rio interjects once more.

This little game of back-and-forth was cute. But you didn't care. Rio was using it as an excuse to get some sick sense of pleasure from throwing in insults while Agatha was doing anything to avoid saying what she thought. You knew Agatha. She could be just as mean as Rio. "can you get to the point?"

"you already know," you ignore Rio, looking straight at Agatha.

"We wanted to protect you," you can't help but roll your eyes. That was the best excuse she could come up with. Some fairytail bullshit. "felt easier to leave." you glance at Rio who looked just as over it as you did.

"Agatha thought you'd be better off without us. That we shouldn't be dragging you into a world you weren't ready for. Blah blah blah. Too weak to come with us. If we left you wouldn't get caught up in anything bad,"

"Rio was actually the one who didn't want to go,"

"Whatever," she huffs. Her gaze down at the knife in her hand; twisting the edge against the tip of her forefinger. "I thought it'd be worse if we just left you. that it'd fuck with you- we just needed to be harsher."

"but I was right,"

"you were wrong," Rio answers.

"How? I mean look at her," Agatha ushers towards you. "a full-fledged witch. Survived centuries. That's something. You didn't need us."

"do you wanna tell her or should I?" you wonder if Rio is genuine in her question or if this was just another attempt at teasing. This conversation had mainly been between the two of them.

"Tell me what?"

"I wasn't... okay, Agatha," you admit for perhaps the first time ever out loud. Only Rio knows what happened to you in the years between them leaving and the last time you saw her. You made sure of that. The two of them had grand legacies but you wanted to be forgotten in history. Like the legend of Bloody Mary. Not a sole dare speaks your name anymore because who knows what'll happen if you show up.

"oh bunny," a pet name you hadn't heard in a very long time. It almost seemed childish now. Pathetic. "just talk to me."

"you don't care,"

"god do I have to do everything around here," Rio complains. "she was tried as a witch, Agatha. Use your head for once."

"Rio," you huff.

She rolls her eyes. "burned at the stake."

"Rio," you snarl. "stop. I don't wanna talk about it."

"yes you do," she responds sharply. "you want nothing more than to make Agatha Harkness feel guilty for leaving you. Hurt her the way she hurt you." you dart for her in one swift motion. A hand around her neck. The teasing just becoming too much, and you were sick of hearing her talk.

"you hurt me too," you bark, shoving her against the nearest tree. What should be fear is instead a small smirk and dark eyes.

"fiesty," she quips. She knows you won't kill her. You can't.

"you're the only person to ever leave a mark." you resume. "an ugly scar that my body just refuses to heal."

"come on sweet one." you drive a little harder. "make it hurt."

"do you know what it's like to be tied up and buried in a coffin? To slowly suffocate to death over and over and over again," fingernails dig into the skin of her neck. You can see it's having an effect. The wobble in her smile. "the way your body screams for oxygen. Your insides burning with desire but there is nothing you can do?"

"drop her," Agatha's hand reaches your shoulder and your powers kick in. Your free hand waves her away. Energy blasts her backwards and she stumbles to the ground. A lesser witch wouldn't know of Agatha's ability to drain magic but you were smarter than that. careful in your use despite the speed. control what's around her rather than directly blasting her.

"don't touch me," you growl.

"our... little girl... is all grown... up," choked out of Rio's mouth. You watch her grow a little paler. A little more starved for breath. And then you drop her. She crumbles to the floor. "and filled..." she coughs. "with... murderous rage... apparently."

"calm down," Agatha tries from her place on the floor, as she tries to get up. You use your magic to help her up. Leaving her hovering just a few feet off the ground.

"y'know, when they dragged me from bed and burned me at the stake all I could think about was you two. Surely, they didn't just leave without a word. They'll... come back and help me." you can still picture that night. The confusion. the heat. The pain. "you left me," you walk towards Agatha. "and look at you now. The great Agatha Harkness is completely powerless."

"we're sorry, okay- aren't we rio?" rio shrugs a little. With a heavy sigh, you drop Agatha to the ground. "you've come a long way bunny."

"wasn't really a choice,"

"Can we just backtrack a little," the older witch requests. Brushing herself off as she stands back up.

"immortality looks good on you," Rio teases. You hold up a middle finger.

"you're immortal?"

"for the longest time, I thought one of you cursed me with it. Some fucked up way of protecting me. But then I went looking for you. Heard all about your extra circular activities. Witch killer, hiding behind dark magic," Agatha just looks back as you turn to Rio. She knew the story. "Rio was easier to find,"

"should have stayed dead," Rio insisted, the cold metal blade dancing across the scar on your neck. "how easier that would be," you shove her away and she just chuckles. "oh how I missed this," she wonders over to were Agatha is stood.

"I'm going back to sleep," you announce. "let's just leave it at that,"

"Why did you come," Agatha asks. You wonder if it's worth the conversation. The headache of continuing to engage with them. "if you hate me so much?"

"to die," you say eventually as you head back to camp.

// NEXT

[bruisedboys]

joaquín torres x fem!reader (cw: tiny bit suggestive but nothing explicit)

idk guys I think joaquín torres is definitely a biter … and you totally bite him back duh!

the first time joaquín bites you it’s just a silly, playful kinda bite. you’re over at his place and he’s let you wear one of his hoodies, and you’re in his kitchen moving around like it’s your own, like it could belong to you, too. and joaquín just gets this overwhelming urge to kiss you, or smother you in a hug, or eat you, or something. so he moves up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist from behind and chomps down on your shoulder. it’s not rough, of course, and the thick fabric of his hoodie softens the bite of his sharp teeth. still, you squeal and twist away, appalled and pleased at once. “did you just bite me?” you giggle. joaquín pulls you into his chest by the waist and shrugs, “you looked so cute,” he tells you, then kisses you, ‘cos he’s not quite brave enough to tell you the bite was a direct result of his overflowing love for you.

the next time it happens, you’re curled up into joaquín’s side watching a film, the two of you sinking deeper into the couch cushions by the second. joaquín’s playing with one of your hands, twirling the ring on your pointer finger, running his own fingers up to the pads of yours and back down absentmindedly. then he brings your hand to his mouth, pressing your palm to his lips for a long kiss, then kissing your fingers one at a time. you’re only a little surprised when he gets to your thumb and chomps down on it. you gasp, and ask through a smile, “why’d you do that?” joaquín just mutters an absentminded, “sorry, didn’t mean to,” and goes back to kissing your fingers. he definitely starts biting again after a while, but you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop.

after that it becomes a bit of a constant. whenever joaquín gets overwhelmed with fondness for you, the affection fizzing in his chest with nowhere to go, he’ll bite you. it’s always gentle, always fond, and he’s always careful not to hurt you. you start enjoying it, then start expecting it, and he does it so much it becomes normal. eventually, you pick up on the habit too, though you don’t do it nearly as often as him. that is, until you discover he likes it a little more when it has salacious intent…

like, he’s got you in his lap and his hands are under your hoodie, palms roving your warm skin while you kiss along his jaw. you mouth along the line of his jaw and up to the space below his ear, and joaquín pulls you closer, big hand spread over the small of your back, his breathing all heavy and needy. you kiss up to his ear where his skin is all warm, and you can feel his racing pulse where your palm is pressed to his neck. it’s all so heated and you just can’t help it — you take his earlobe between your lips, then let your teeth scrape over the tender flesh, biting down ever so slightly. joaquín shudders, his fingers digging into your skin almost desperately as he tugs you closer. “do that again?” he murmurs, and you do, flustered at his grabbing but pleased that you’ve found his weakness.

joaquín returns the favour soon enough — he’s got you pressed against the headboard of his bed, a stack of pillows behind your arched back. you’re shirtless and his mouth is on your chest, kissing you along the curve of your bra cup on one side, his big hand spread over your ribs on the other side. your hands are buried in his hair, tunnelled into his thick curls, and then his kissing starts to get rougher. the kissing turns to sucking, and then the sucking turns to biting. it’s gentle enough, just his teeth scraping at the warm, tender flesh of your breast. but still you gasp, tugging at his hair. joaquín looks up at you, chin in the valley of your chest. “sorry, sweetheart, am I hurting you?” he asks softly. you shake your head, “feels nice,” you tell him, breathless. and joaquín gets this cheeky, absurdly handsome grin on his face, pretty white teeth sparkling at you teasingly, lips all swollen and dark pink, and you know you’re done for.

after that the biting becomes a habit for the both of you, and neither you or joaquín care that it’s maybe a bit odd. you just love each other and sometimes a kiss is not enough!! biting is one of joaquín’s love languages, you’ve discovered, and it’s totally rubbed off on you <3

[wileys-russo]

(Ik it’s not a player but I love them) Solfresa “I could just take a tiny nap?”

oc x oc from my filling the void universe and @girlgenius1111 family line series

world class II fresa putellas + solstråle engen

"sol, no mi amor you cannot sleep now." fresa returned to the bedroom and noticed the norweigan starting to drift off, shaking her ankle as she groaned and opened her eyes.

"why?" the brunette sighed deeply, rubbing her face and crossing her arms over her chest with a small scowl, fresa pausing the nature documentary her girlfriend had been falling asleep to.

"the point of the schedule is to train your sleep pattern so you are well rested at all times, so you are fit to work once you start nights. which means no naps and only sleeping at the times you are supposed to mi amor." the younger girl smiled sympathetically as the norweigan groaned louder.

it had been a long grueling process for the tattooed firefighter to become qualified as so, one that the spaniard currently shaking her awake had not always been supportive of.

solstråle had failed fitness testing twice, both her sister and girlfriend trying to talk her into what they deemed a much less dangerous career path.

but solstråle had never wavered, only spending more hours in the gym and less time talking to those who she didn't think were helping her along the way.

so with a wall of silence in response to the pushback, and the lack of belief only driving solstråle harder into her training and to start developing some unhealthier habits, fresa and ingrid changed tune.

both had come around to helping solstråle instead of wasting time trying to change her mind, but the help wasn't without constant reminders that she needed to be at her most prepared as to avoid any sort of injury while on the job.

so now with fitness testing complete and all of her training finally starting to feel as if it was paying off, the girl was set to swap over from shadow shifts to a real roster, which included staying two nights a week at the station on call.

"fres, baby i could just take a tiny nap? then i will still sleep early on time tonight!" solstråle tried to bargain, pinching her thumb and pointer finger together to make a minuscule gap as fresa firmly shook her head. "not part of the plan amor." fresa smiled in amusement at the girls persistence, gesturing for her to sit up.

"you are no fun today putellas. first you have to study and i have to sit here alone to watch my show because i 'distract you'. now you come back and i am tired but you will not let me sleep?" solstråle huffed with a deepened scowl as the younger girl shook your head.

"you might not think i am fun engen, but is it fun cleaning the big trucks all day because your sister or your chief hears you are too tired to be cleared for the real work?" fresa warned lightly quirking an eyebrow and crossing her arms, solstråle's eyes widening a little in response.

"you wouldn't!" the norweigan sat up properly now with a scoff. "i would, if it meant you did not get hurt bebé." fresa promised softly, her girlfriend sighing and running a hand through her hair.

"snitches get stitches." solstråle mumbled grumpily, laying back down as her eyes began to once again feel heavy. "well you are great company today. go to sleep then, i do not care!" fresa rolled her eyes, knowing just how stubborn her girlfriend could be but not having the patience for it today, turning to leave as a hand quickly grabbed the back of her top.

"sorry! i'm just tired, and i missed you. i hate when you have exams and you have to ignore me." solstråle huffed, pulling fresa down onto the bed with her and trapping the shorter girl in between her arms and legs in a tight bear hug.

"i do not ignore you solstråle, i answered all your texts today amor, and there was a lot of them!" fresa laughed at the sudden switch in attitude from the girl, twisting her neck to sweetly peck her lips which were grumbling some sort of moody comment in norweigan.

"will you play fifa with me? i thought i was good but they have a tournament going at the station, and i haven't won a single game!" the brunette huffed, forever hotheaded and fiercely competitive as much as she could also be the softest sappy pile of mush at times too.

"do we have to? i do not have a clue how to play. in fact you and alexia told me no more playing because it was...what did you say? eh 'too hard to watch' remember?" fresa narrowed her eyes as a guilty smile curled into her girlfriends features.

one of the rare times her eldest sister actually spent any time with sol was playing fifa after a family dinner, granted that was silent bonding as alexia still refused to say more than a few words in response to solstråle's chatter.

"fresa that was ancient history, i am a much more patient woman now." solstråle grinned as the spaniard in her arms let out a loud sarcastic bark of laughter and tapped at her forearms to be let up.

"it was last week engen." fresa sat up and hovered over her girlfriend with a shake of her head, suddenly pulling back as sol tried to sit up and connect their mouths. "hey! give me a kiss." the norweigan demanded impatiently, tapping her puckered lips expectantly.

"no." fresa smiled sweetly, standing and heading out of the bedroom to make some food, not at all surprised at the sound of footsteps hurrying after her, her mami on an evening shift at work meaning the pair of them had the house to themselves for a couple more hours at least.

"solstråle!" the younger girl squealed as a body barrelled into her, almost taking her down to the floor before the well built norweigan grabbed her girlfriends hand, spinning and dipping fresa, holding her up just from falling to the floor as her heart raced.

"don't do that! its not funny." fresa hit at her girlfriends hoodie covered chest with a loud smack as she only laughed and the youngest putellas merely scowled.

trying to move past her before fresa could take another step a mouth was pressed against hers, feeling the firefighter to be smile into the kiss when fresa made no move to push her away

"you are a child sometimes. tonta!" fresa finally broke away and bonked her girlfriend on the head with a magazine that was handy within reach on the counter, only causing solstråle to smile wider, clearly proud of herself.

"food can wait, one game? it will help keep me awake." the norwegian tugged fresa gently away from the pantry with her best puppy dog eyes as fresa sighed.

"if you are turning down food, it must be serious." "please?" "fine. one game engen!"

~

"joder! how do you defend? i forget the controls!" fresa cursed in annoyance, only having had possession for about two seconds this entire half as her girlfriend knocked in goal after goal.

"solstråle!" she protested as the norweigan made her player do a backflip after another goal and cheered loudly in fresa's ear, kissing her cheek apologetically from where fresa lay between her legs, elbows resting on her knees and her back pressed to solstråles front.

"you said this would be easy." fresa complained as the game stopped for half time. "no, babe i said i would put the match settings on easy." her girlfriend corrected as fresa pinched her thigh unimpressed with the answer.

"amor you are winning 8-0 you can give me five fucking minutes to show the controls again?" fresa demanded before sol could click to resume play. "i like when you swear in english." her girlfriend mumbled, a lazy kiss pressed to her jaw as sol dropped her remote and her hands settled over fresa's.

"when you attack you click this to pass, this one to sprint. you click this one for a head pass or a short ball, and this to shoot." solstråle explained slowly, pointing out the different buttons as fresa nodded, eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

"when you defend it is this one to chase, this one to tackle, this one to slide tackle, this one to clear. then when it goes to your goalkeeper, just click this or this." the taller girl explained as again fresa nodded, doing her best to follow along but she'd already forgotten half of what was said, making a mental note to just button mash and hope.

"so does this mean you will let me have a pity goal mi vida?" fresa asked hopefully as the girl pressed behind her grabbed her own control and chuckled.

"not a chance elskling." sol stole a kiss and clicked play again before fresa could bite back with a remark, eyes widening as she hurried to rapidly click at any buttons she could reach on the controller much to her girlfriends amusement.

the second half fresa played a little better, but still failed to score and conceded another five goals making it so solstråle won with a whopping 13-0, the final whistle blowing meaning she let out a war cry of victory.

"eso fue humillante!" fresa scowled tossing the remote to the side onto the lounge and rolling her eyes, arms crossed and shoulders slumped.

"that is life no? you win some, you lose some. i feel a lot better about my games at the station now! thank you baby." the norweigans large hands settled either side of fresas face and tilted her head back so she could press kisses across the flushed skin.

"you are welcome." fresa rolled your eyes, gently tugging her hands away and sitting up, glancing to the screen only for a moment as her head snapped back to it and she frowned.

"world class? you said you put it on beginner sol!" fresa turned to glare at her girlfriend who shrugged, quickly turning off the tv and sitting up on her knees.

"did i? guess i must have clicked the wrong one babe, sorry." the norweigan grinned, pushing the shorter girl to lay down again as her smug face hovered over her girlfriends, not an ounce of remorse in her eyes.

"mentirosa! i cannot believe i like you." fresa grumbled with a scowl, solstråle pressing her face into her neck, lips scattering kisses across the warm skin.

"only like?" the norweigan whispered teasingly, tugging on fresa's earlobe with her teeth as her fingers danced across bare skin where her shirt had rode up.

"barely tolerate." fresa mumbled but all of the fire had dissapeared from her tone making solstråle smile against her neck.

"oh now what happened to love?" "maybe if you were not a dirty tramposa, you might get some engen."

[levitoni]

I just know Levi would eat you out so good. 

He would have you propped up on the bed, legs on either side of his head, his tongue soothing the delicious burn of your need.

At first, he would tease you over the thin fabric of your panties until he’d bunch them up, dragging them back and forth all over your cunt. He would be so enamoured by you, he’d probably be able to get off just by pleasuring you.

It would be so sensual, too-his jaw moving with his tongue, drawing languid and big circles over not just your clit, but your entire pussy, slowly, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. His hands would be gentle, caressing and moving your legs into the positions most comfortable for you. He would leisurely make you go hazy with arousal, and I stand by that.

I picture him spreading your folds gently with his fingers, disconnecting himself from your sex. A thin string of saliva glistens brightly, linking him to your pussy. His face is obscured by the dim atmosphere in the room, and he has a lustful expression on his face as he pulls back to examine you.

You look totally fucked out, lost in the feeling of his hands and tongue running over your sensitive skin. You whimper as a beady string of spit lands on your clit. He thumbs over your entrance, and you clench down hard on him. He groans.

It is a constant cycle of giving you more than you can handle, and not enough at the same time. Levi knows that. And yet, he doesn’t want to give you his all for now. You’re deserving of it, but he believes in the ability to wait. 

And so Levi knows that he’s got you right where he wants you. He gently traces his nose against your inner thighs, pressing a single kiss to the area right below your throbbing clit. He’s teasing you constantly, and you hiss loudly. The only sounds in the room are your panting, and the obscene sounds of him licking you all over. Your legs tremble uncontrollably.

Though he would never admit it, he’s smitten by you, and he would give you the world if you asked him for it- especially in moments like these, when he knows you have such a tight hold on him. At the end of a long, hard day Levi would ruin you just for his own satisfaction. 

So he pinches your clit between his pointer finger and thumb, and rubs them in circles over and over again. The air hangs heavy with the smell of sex and musk.

His lips part as he admires you from below, grey eyes glazed over and focused on your wetness.  Your toes crack and curl. You wheeze loudly. He coos.

“Levi!”- you moan, grabbing fistfuls of his raven hair, gaze boring right through you. Your hips inevitably raise under the devastating pressure, and you think he might let you tip over the edge, when all of a sudden…

Nothing. All his ministrations stop. 

You’re confused for a second before his hand comes down forcefully on your cunt, slapping your clit. 

Your legs jolt, and you gasp. Levi is quick to shush you. 

“Does this feel good?”

You mewl. He hums as his entire palm massages your cunt, rich baritone filling your ears. 

“It does, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

Yeah, he really would eat you out good. 

[wild-jackalope]

Satoru Gojo, your scarily perceptive teacher, takes it upon himself to help his horny student, you, with your over-abundance of cursed energy.

paring :: Teacher!Satoru x Student!Reader, Student!Megumi x Student!Reader (undertones).

warning :: age gap, teacher-student relationship, public sex, virgin reader, corruption kink (kinda), straight penetration, no foreplay, cherry popping, Gojo is cocky, reader is horny af.

note :: reader is 18 and a third year with the other students (Yuji, Megumi, Nobara).

“That much cursed energy isn’t good for you.” Megumi eyed you, a weary frown resting on his face.

“I’m fine.” You grunted. The vast aura of cursed energy angrily whipping around you only seemed to surge more when he continued his lecture.

“You’ll get sick.” He added, a noticeable warning in his tone.

“I’m fine.” You sharply returned.

You had not been fine, in fact, you were tensed beyond belief. Being a Jujustu sorcerer was hard, anyone with a brain could tell you that, but the past weeks had taxed you physically and emotionally to an extent you had never experienced. Mission after mission had lead you to lacking personal and intimate time. Each night you'd black out the moment your head hit your pillow, sometimes still in your sweaty uniform.

Each morning you'd wake up with a noticeable wet spot between your legs, but before you could set your barking pussy to rest, you'd be called up and sent on another mission. The only way you could release the building tension was by taking it out on curse spirits, leading to relatively swift victories. The higher ups seemed to consider your constant wins as a challenge because they continued to throw cursed spirits your way.

This had been going on for a whole month, and now it came to the point in your womanly cycle where you yearned to be fucked the most; Ovulation.

"What's up with you?" Yuji questioned.

"Frustrated?" Nobara grinned. You'd made the mistake of venting to her about your situation during a paired mission. Your body tightened with searing regret.

"Don't pester her. You'll make it worse." Megumi cut, keeping his narrow eyes targeted at your surrounding classmates.

Maybe if Megumi liked you enough to defend you, you could test the waters and see if you could get him under the sheets. Idiot. You palmed your forehead, attempting to smack away the thoughts. Megumi was your friend. You'd just embarrass yourself.

"Woah, look at that aura." Satoru had finally slipped into the classroom, about twenty minutes late to the class. Twenty minutes you could've spent getting yourself off. Stop thinking about it. "Someone's seeming a little moody." He jested, lifting the side of his blindfold to eye your irritated cursed energy.

You huffed a depressing sigh, Satoru's harassing would just frustrated you more, especially considering he was so hot. God you would do anything to be dicked down. Especially by him.

The majority of the class time was spent with your head resting in your folded arms. Each low syllable pronounced by your teacher would make you fantasies about what his moans would sound like and whenever you felt his eyes gaze over you, a tingling shiver meddled with your legs. You were too far gone. Even if you had time to masturbate, would it be enough?

Even after the class had finished, you delayed leaving your chair, hoping to grind your thighs together just a little longer to the thoughts of your teacher.

"Coming?" Megumi asked. You wished.

"She should stay back." Satoru stated, casual smile on his face.

You lifted your head, blinking.

"Bye." Megumi waved, you returned the gesture.

"So you going to tell me the deal with all your cursed energy, or should I just take an educated guess?" His hand landed on the base of your desk, slender pointer finger tapping it.

Unintentionally, your voice left you in the form of a meek whimper. "I'll deal with it, you don't have to worry."

"Educated guess then," He shrugged, finding no satisfaction in your answer. "I know you've been shoved a heavy work load, being asked to defeat cursed spirits every day for.. how many weeks now? Four?" You nodded. "Rough. I dealt with a similar thing back in my youth, the strongest is always busy. Never any time to be alone."

You swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth. "Uhm, yeah."

"So that's it then? You're just a bit pent up." You flushed at his casual discovery.

"I-I said I'll deal with it. We don't need to be talking—"

"Want me to help?"

That’s what landed you on Satoru’s desk, papers scattered over the floor, with your bottoms hanging off your leg and his pants resting just above his hips. You’d moved from your desk to his with a frazzled fanaticism, not caring to question Satoru’s sexual intentions as he lead you, merely chasing the end of your drowning lust. In that moment, your teacher seemed like the solution to all your problems, so you let in.

His thumb dipped beneath his boxers, leisurely pulling them down to expose the lines of his hips and the beginning of his shaft.

He’d pulled your bottoms off with an intense haste, unfairly compared to how slowly he teased you with the sight of his dick. He watched your wide, glossy eyes gape like a virgin at him.

“Wet dream come true?” He asked, chuckling behind his words.

Your response was a breathy hiccup, filled with astonishment and embarrassment. Did he know you had the hots for him? Well, he must’ve had some clue, because you were currently naked from the waist down on his desk.

“Cute.” He added, finally allowing his cock to spring free and give you the sight you longed for. Your fingers began to ache with how hard you gripped the table, skin blanching and nails digging into the wood with stressed intensity.

The size of him was larger than what you’d imagined, thicker too. His pale skin, littered with blue-ish veins, perfectly blended into a lip-pink tip, already damp with his own pre. The reality that his was the first dick you’d seen in person, and were about to feel inside the chasm of your pussy made your stomach pile with anxious butterflies.

The sudden heat of the moment dampened in your mind, as your virgin inexperience hit you like whiplash. You pressed your lips inwards, biting them. You couldn’t tell him, not now, not while he was slipping between your legs and his hands were rising underneath your uniform.

“So tense.” He murmured, towering posture leaning into your figure as his fingers skimmed the lining of your ribs, then reached the fabric of your bra. “Relax babe, no one’s gonna disturb this.” He kissed your clothed shoulder, then your neck. The softness made you burn and melt into him.

“Gojo—” Your tone was weary, and Satoru cut you off before you could utter any confused regret.

“I’m your teacher, I know what’s best for you. I’ll take care of your problem, yeah? You just sit there and enjoy it.” His lips latched onto yours, sucking away any words you were thinking of speaking from your lips.

One hand returned to his base, taking his cock whilst the other held your body, his thumb rolling over your supported boob in a needy motion.

His cock dipped between your folds, gathering the pooling slick that dripped from your cunt. The connection made you jolt and grab the arm he used to grope you.

“Forgot how quickly younger girls get wet.” He muttered aloud. Your face must’ve churned at the words, because he immediately backtracked. “I don’t go searching to fuck young women, I’ve just had plenty of experience over the years.”

Your face eased, but still you squinted in distrust. He laughed.

“I mean, c’mon, you’re gushing just at the sight of me.” Embarrassed, you averted your eyes and uttered a unintelligible disagreement. Satoru took your flushed face into his hand and brought your attention back to his grin. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, you’re the youngest I’ve had.” Unable to move yourself from his grip, Satoru leaned down and planted a wet kiss to your lips.

He licked over your bottom lip, retreating when you moaned in his mouth. He’d become impatient, needing to feel your wet warmth hugging his dick. He thrusted his cock into your clit, once, twice before planting his tip in the crook of your weeping hole.

“Fuck, Megumi is gonna hate me.” He drawled, a contradictory excitement lacing his tone.

You hadn’t time to question his statement as his cock dived between your folds, slipping into your chasm and stretching the thin skin of your cherry.

“Ah! Fuck.” You huffed, the stretching ache rumbling through your abdomen causing your legs to restrict around him. Your hands shot to his chest, weakly and frantically grabbing at the loose fabric of his uniform. “Gojo—”

“Oh, I know, baby. I know.” A certain weak pity jesting his words. “Fuck, you’re tight. Don’t tell me, am I your first?” His smirk grew at the concept, as did his cock.

You hadn’t given him an answer, only spurs of moaning huffs as you concentrated on dealing with ache of being split open by his lean dick. He retracted his hips sharply, you gasped and hit his chest.

“Tell me, c’mon. Am I your first? Am I?” He sunk in again, then retracted with an agonising speed.

“Gah! Yes, yes— fuck, you are.” You huffed, hitting his abdomen again.

“Fuuuck. Lucky me.” Satoru slowed his hips, returning to sliding inside you with an uninterrupted slowness. “I’ve been so selfish, jus’ wanting to fuck you right away, next time it’ll be all about you. Promise.”

“N-Next time?” You heaved, clawing at his chest.

With a deep drawl, he responded. “You ain’t the only one who has needs, baby.” You could feel the words puff into your neck.

The realisation hit you. Satoru was just as pent up as you were, having no time to hookup or masturbate. His situation was just as bad as yours, likelier worse. As much as he might’ve wanted to seem like a teacher just helping his student get off to alleviate their cursed energy, he craved sex twice as much as you did.

He continued to sink in, sliding against the pleasurable nerves decorating your gummy walls. You whined and Satoru hushed you, halting once his hips pressed into yours. “There you go, perfect fit.” He praised.

“God.” You choked, gasping at the air. You felt him, felt his hot cock press into the parts of you nobody else had, parts your own fingers had barely reached.

“I know. Big, huh? You can take it, I know you can.” His slender hand cupping your breast squeezed in feeble reassurance.

Your teeth clenched and your chest fell with fast puffs. “Perv.” You breathed.

His cock twitched, tapping the roof of your sticky canal. “So rude. Don’t you know you need to respect your elders?” He drew his hips out and you winced.

“Just wait, hmpf, God—” You ripped at his shirt. He’d been pushing you this entire time, eager to fuck you silly.

Satoru brought his hands to his mouth and licked his finger, pressing it to your clit and rubbing the saliva into the nub. The pleasure it brought you fought against the aching and you rested your head against his chest, allowing the sweet feeling to soften your body.

“Good girl. Loosen up for me.” He murmured kindly. The words alone added another wet layer of slick around his cock.

His thrusts started off slow and long, pulling his cock so out that your entrance ring danced around his tip, then sweetly sliding back in until your pubes met. Each time he’d penetrate your deepest part, tip dangerously close to tapping your cervix, you’d whine and moan, making him chant mindless remixes of the phrase ‘I know baby, just take it. It’s okay.’

Even at his slowest pace, your mind went hazy with the intensity of sex. Hot, wet, wrong sex. Each time you revisited the reality of your own teacher fucking you, it made your pussy clench around him.

He grunted, taking a calming breath. “‘M gonna pick up the pace, okay?” He was hardly asking for permission, practically tripling his speed before he finished his warning.

You moaned into his chest, hands dragging around his body, wanting to feel him and begging to hold onto something. Satoru placed them on his shoulder, squeezing your wrists in an attempt at comfort, though you could hardly feel anything other than the overwhelming sensation of your gooey insides being massaged.

The curves of his cock flittering past your cloying walls began to feel impossibly familiar, like you were born to be filled with Satoru’s cock. Each drawl made his cock head slide against the spongy part of your g-spot, building you up and up into ecstasy.

The buildup from inside your chasm was intense and ticklish, otherworldly compared to the orgasms you’d rub out alone in bed. You only wished Satoru had perused you sooner.

“I’m gonna cum— oh fuck.”

“I know, baby. I know. Keep taking it.” His nose dipped into your hair, rubbing your side like a cat.

Your climax hit hard and fast, turning your legs to jelly and releasing muscles you hadn’t known were clenched. Your pussy walls cramped and fluttered around Gojo’s cock sucking him in and prompting him to cum inside you. He whined at the intensity.

Satoru Gojo, your teacher, the strongest Jujustu sorcerer, whining as you clenched around his cock. The power trip collided with your electric orgasm, forcing a weak smile to your lips that made your cheeks burn and welled searing tears in your eyes.

He moaned desperately loud, enough to make your heart sink at the idea of it being heard. However the fear was short lived as hot liquid seed pooled in the deep parts of your pussy, thickly coating your walls. You shivered, unable to recongise the foreign feeling of being cummed in. Slower now, he rode the spurts of his orgasm.

“You came inside?” You lazily questioned, unable to reprimand Satoru besides an unsteady slap to his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that baby, I’ll handle it.” He murmured, upper body now resting against you while his hips slowed to a halt. “Well done.” He cooed, nibbling at your neck.

“You say that like I just defeated a cursed spirit.” You sighed. His lips curl into a smile against your skin and you cringed.

“But you deserve it, pretty girl.”

Peering down at where his cock stilled inside you, you could see the drips of cum froth around his base, dots of pinkish blood swirling with your juices too.

He left you with another curt cheek-kiss, removing himself from your bullied cunt. The feeling of loosing his warm thickness was a discomfort comparable to when he first entered you.

You cursed, the words catching in your throat. Finally able to relax your legs, they attempted to shut however Satoru’s hands grappled the plush of your thigh and pried them open.

“Don’t close your legs, I’ve got to clean you up.”

Akin to a guardian placing a Band-Aid over a sulking child’s scraped knee, Satoru dabbed a tissue to your sloppy cunt, gathering up the mix of blood, cum and slick until you were semi-dry. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you gasped. The sugar-sweet noise begged him to dive between your lips and suck up the mess he made inside you. Next time, he thought, next time he’d leave you ruined.

“The others are still waiting for you, go meet up with them.” He looped your underwear and bottoms through your legs, allowing you to stand and pull them up all the way.

Standing added another pressure to your core and you wobbled. “It hurts.” You uttered into your chest.

“You’ll be fine, a little pain never bothered you out on the field, one of the reason you’re my favourite.” His words tasted like butter and you pressed a frustrated palm to his chest.

“Don’t say stuff like that.” Your reserve was questionable, considering how you two just fucked.

He took your wrist and kissed it. “It’s true.”

A weak scoff left you, and you turned on your heel penguin-walking outside the classroom, Satoru sending you off with a tap to your ass.

“You seem a lot better.” Megumi mused, a quick shine of surprised relief on his face.

“You’re glowing.” Nobara added, an upturn brow and narrow eyes taking in your afterglow.

Strategically, you avoided Nobara’s comment and directed yourself towards Megumi. “Yeah, Gojo managed to actually help for once.” You let out an uneasy chucke, adjusting your blazer.

Just as you were about to suggest grabbing some food, likely sushi, to your classmates, Satoru’s voice called out to you.

Crap, had you forgotten something? You put your underwear on, right?

“This is for you.” He extended a hand, holding a plastic sheet containing one singular pill. Your face and ears immediately flushed, turning a bright pink. You snatched the plan B off him, placing it deep into the crevice of your pocket and turning your back to him.

“Thanks.” You hissed.

“Bye then.” He flirted, giving his other students a wave before backing away.

“What was that?” Yuji asked.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

[dontrllycaretbh]

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Title: In the Paint, On Her Knees

Pairing: Paige bueckers x Azzi fudd

Warnings: Explicit sapphic content (18+), spit kink, fingering, semi-public setting (locker room), teasing, dom!Azzi, sub!Paige, excessive flirting, public embarrassment (loving), mild praise/degradation, filthy locker room smut, banter, dirty talk, confessions, years of pining, Azzi snapping (finally), james and lily potter type of love 🙂‍↔️

Summary:

For three years, Paige has been the campus gay disaster — loudly and publicly asking Azzi out mid-basketball practice, in group chats, and once via megaphone. Azzi’s always brushed her off… until one day, in the middle of a sweaty one-on-one match, Azzi snaps. Turns out, she’s been waiting just as long — and she takes control

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Three Years of Chaos

Paige had never been subtle. Not about anything, really, but especially not about Azzi.

It started freshman year — Paige, standing center court during basketball practice, waving a bright pink poster that read “Azzi, go on a date with me!” in marker so thick it bled through the posterboard. The whole team stared, some snickering, others just blinking in disbelief. Azzi rolled her eyes, but Paige caught the barest hint of a smile.

Next came the group chats — constant, relentless. “Hey Azzi, I bet you’d lose a game against me if we played for a date,” Paige typed, followed by a slew of emojis ranging from basketballs to winks to hearts. Azzi ignored the message but always read them, lurking silently as Paige’s notifications kept pinging like clockwork every afternoon.

Then, there was the infamous megaphone incident. Right before the final four game , Paige had smuggled a megaphone into the gym and shouted, “Azzi, date me or I’ll never pass your locker again!” Geno nearly had a stroke, and Azzi’s glare could have stopped a freight train. But again, Paige saw that flash of something—amusement? Fondness? She wasn’t sure, but it fueled her fire.

Despite the public embarrassment and the endless teasing, Azzi never outright said no. She brushed Paige off with quick retorts, sarcasm, and a wall of cool detachment. But Paige had noticed the way Azzi’s eyes lingered a little too long, or how her smirk softened when Paige caught her watching.

Years of flirting, of daring and denying, led to countless locker room exchanges filled with sharp wit and sharper glances.

“Still pining for me, bueckers?” Azzi teased once after practice, tossing Paige a towel.

“Maybe,” Paige grinned back. “But you make it so hard to give up.”

Azzi’s smile faded just for a moment—enough for Paige to catch the secret behind the teasing. Azzi wasn’t indifferent. She was just waiting. Waiting for Paige to push harder, to finally break through.

And now, standing face to face in the sweaty heat of a one-on-one match, Paige could see it in Azzi’s eyes—something different. Something ready to snap.

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2 weeks later, Practice, 3:42 PM

“Hey Az!” Paige yelled from across the court, breathless and already a little pink from their scrimmage. “Will you go out with me yet?”

Azzi didn’t even look up as she pivoted, dribbled, and sank a clean shot. “Still no.”

“Okay, cool, cool.” Paige pretended to write something down on her arm with her finger. “Just crossing off Thursday’s rejection. Only two more to fill out this week before I hit my quota.”

From the bleachers, one of their teammates yelled, “Paige, take the L!”

“Never!” Paige called back. “I never lose”

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One-on-One, 4:10 PM

It was just them now. Practice had ended, the others long gone. Paige had stayed behind to “get extra shots in,” which really meant “get extra Azzi time.”

Azzi was sweaty. Sharp. Deadly focused. And unfairly hot.

Paige was already halfway to combusting and trying not to let it show.

They played in silence for a few minutes — until Azzi faked left, spun around her, and sank a three-pointer like it was nothing.

Paige collapsed onto the court in melodramatic agony. “I’d let you break my ankles and my heart.”

Azzi, catching the ball on the rebound, raised a brow. “Are you ever not flirting?”

“Only when I’m unconscious.”

She stood, winded but grinning. “Be honest. You like it.”

Azzi hesitated. Just for a second.

And then: “Locker room. Five minutes.”

Paige blinked.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Wait, seriously? No trick? No fake-out?”

Azzi stepped closer, dropped the ball with a heavy thud. “You’ve been running your mouth for three years, Paige. Time to see if you can do something useful with it.”

Paige’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

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Locker Room, 4:18 PM

It smelled like floor cleaner, deodorant, and victory. Paige was still catching up — mentally and physically — when Azzi pressed her back against the lockers and kissed her like she was trying to erase all those years of denial in one go.

It was hot. Messy. Urgent. Azzi’s thigh pressed between Paige’s legs, and Paige moaned before she could even think.

“Wow,” Paige gasped. “You kiss like you’ve been mad at me this whole time.”

“I have been,” Azzi growled. “You’ve been infuriating. You and your stupid jokes. Your ridiculous posters.”

“The megaphone was iconic,” Paige wheezed. “People still talk about it—”

Azzi shut her up with another kiss. This time, her hand slid under Paige’s jersey, cupping a breast, thumb flicking over her nipple.

Paige whimpered. “I swear to God if I’m dreaming, I’m gonna die in my sleep and it’ll be worth it.”

Azzi grinned against her mouth. “You want to be useful?”

Paige nodded frantically.

“Then open your mouth.”

Paige obeyed instantly.

Azzi leaned in and spit into it — warm, slow, filthy.

Paige groaned, swallowing it without breaking eye contact.

Azzi’s voice was low and smug. “Knew it.”

“You—what?”

Azzi shoved a hand down the front of Paige’s shorts. “You think I haven’t seen how you look at me every time I spit on the court?”

“I’m normal—” Paige gasped as Azzi’s fingers slid through her soaked folds. “I’m very normal—oh fuck—”

Azzi curled her fingers and Paige saw god.

“Been teasing me for years. But now I get to ruin you.”

“God, please ruin me—”

Azzi pushed two fingers in, deep and slow, then rubbed her thumb over Paige’s clit with precision that made her knees buckle.

“You’ve been dripping for me since sophomore year,” she whispered. “So wet for me now. Like you’ve been waiting.”

Paige sobbed out a moan. “I have—Azzi—please—”

“Beg better.”

“Please let me cum, I’ll shut up forever, I’ll stop asking you out in the quad, I’ll burn the megaphone—”

Azzi kissed her again, biting her lip. “Come for me baby, make me happy.”

And Paige did. Loud. Shaking. Practically collapsing into Azzi’s arms as pleasure rolled through her in waves.

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4:34 PM

They were sitting on the bench now, Paige in Azzi’s lap, both half-dressed and still breathing hard.

Paige nuzzled into her neck. “So… does this mean you’re finally my girlfriend?”

Azzi chuckled. “One orgasm and you’re already claiming me?”

“Please, I’ve been claiming you since I wore the number 5 on me.”

Azzi snorted. “Fine. But if you so much as touch that megaphone again—”

“I swear it’s retired. I’ll replace it with whispering sweet nothings directly into your mouth.”

Azzi rolled her eyes and kissed her again, this time soft and slow.

“Let’s get out of here before someone walks in and sees you drooling on me.”

“Too late,” Paige said dreamily. “Been doing that since day one.”

Azzi groaned. “God, I should’ve ruined you sooner.”

[mysterymachine67]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Gn!reader

Summary: Just thinking about Dean crying during sex 🤗

NSFW. Minors DNI.

Should I expand on this idea? Also I’ve started working on requests.

Your hand pumped his cock, a squelch sound making itself known with the action. His pre dribbled down his cock but soon was caught by your hand. All you could hear from the man next to you was pants and whimpers. Dean felt good, so damn good because he needed this so bad. Caught up in constant hunts, being pent up for far too long, and the longing for the need of you. He waited too long for this, so of course he was going to let go.

He cursed under his breath—hips slowly moving up into your hand. You let him. Your thumb and pointer finger squeezed around the head teasingly. Watching as Dean sucked in a breath and groaned. Hips wavering just slightly. You soon noticed how he turned his head to look up at the ceiling, and how he started to blink more rapidly. You thought nothing of it, just maybe something got into his eye? Nope. He looked back down at your hand on his cock after a moment. A whine slipping from his lips. Just to mess with him for a bit you brought your hand lower—to his balls. Cupping them just for a moment before taking your hand away. Relishing in the way he reacted. Eyes screwed shut, head tipped forward slightly, and jaw hanging open with no sound coming from his mouth.

You moved back to jerking him off. His cock jumped and ached in your hand. Dean was close. Just few more thrusts into your hand and he’ll cum. But soon, once again you notice how he tipped his head down and started to avoid eye contact. You’re sure as hell you heard a sniffle at one point to.

So, you took his chin in your hand. Pulling his face up gently to make him look at you. And oh, when he did his teary eyed face could barely hold eye contact. His lip trembled slightly and with one blink the tears fell—running down his cheeks to soon soak into his shirt. At first you looked concerned. You didn’t know if you’d crossed a boundary or missed him say stop. But then, as you went to remove your hand that was on his cock, he stopped you when he started to speak up. “No, baby, s’just..” Dean trailed off, sniffling then attempting to move his chin out of your grip to look away. But you stopped him with a hum of disproval. Moving your hand from his chin to the side of his face. He leaned against it—melting against your touch.

He wanted you to continue. Hell, he fucking craved it. He just didn’t know how to tell you with the state he was in. But you seemed to find it out, or understand. Continuing to jerk him off till he came.

[aryadelvich]

Summary : You’re a student in law at the university of Colombia in New York. It’s your last year. Professor Luigi Mangione teach in this university and you’re one of his student in cybersecurity course. He has a crush on you and asks you on a date.

Updated masterlist

— Columbia University —

You’re seated alone in the faculty lounge, your nerves quietly bubbling under the surface. Today, you were set to teach an introductory criminal law course for first year students. You could always recognize a young cohort when you saw one—still slightly clinging to their high school mentality. Despite your nerves, you were also eager. Law was your passion, and the opportunity to teach it felt like an honor. You often joked that professors were just professionals who loved hearing themselves talk about their favorite subject for hours on end.

You diligently prepared your handouts, reviewed your notes, and double-checked your presentation for typos. You were So engrossed in your task that you didn't notice someone sitting down next to you until his raspy voice broke your concentration.

"Good morning y/n” Luigi's curious tone startled you.

He was always so polite, never skipping the rituel of politeness.

You looked up, your heart skipping a beat. It was him. Again.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a small, playful smile tugging at his lips.

You couldn't help but wonder what lay behind that constant smile of his. It was as if he were perpetually amused by something no one else could see.

"I'm preparing for the lecture I'm giving to the first-years," you replied, calmly.

"Oh, I see. Preparing? At the last minute?" he teased, his voice adopting a half-paternal, half-professorial tone, as though ready to scold you.

"No, I'm reviewing," you corrected him, emphasizing the word. "Making sure everything's in order."

He looked relieved. "Good. A lecture shouldn't be prepared overnight. Trust me, I know."

"Really? No way! I hadn't noticed at all," you shot back sarcastically.

He grinned but didn't relent. "If you want, I can help with your presentation."

"Oh, please, Professor Mangione, save me!" You mocked dramatically. "I'm in distress and in desperate need of your superior male brainpower!"

He was always up for helping others. Hero complex maybe. Luigi chuckled, bowing his head slightly in surrender.

"I get it. You don't want my help. Fine. But I'm free from 10 to 1 today, so I'll sit in on your lecture. You know, just to see how it goes."

"Are you sure?" You asked, a sly glint in your eye that didn't escape Luigi's notice. You were definitely plotting something, but his curiosity got the better of him.

From his backpack, Luigi pulled out a remote with a laser pointer and handed it to you.

"You'll need this. It's handy for switching slides."

You softened, smiling at the thoughtful gesture. "Thank you."

Noticing the time—9:50 a.m.—you gathered your materials and headed toward the assigned lecture hall for your three-hour session. Luigi followed a few steps behind.

As you entered the classroom, all eyes turned to you. It was common for those in the legal field to carry themselves with poise: immaculate attire, perfect posture, and an undeniable air of authority. Luigi quickly took a seat in the third row, his gaze never leaving you.

You approached the podium with confidence, connecting your laptop to the projector with effortless ease. Though students were still settling in and whispering among themselves, you exuded calm professionalism. Your eyes briefly met Luigi's, who wore his trademark smirk—half-mocking, half-amused.

You began in a steady voice:

"Good morning, everyone. I'm y/n y/s and today we'll dive into the foundations of criminal law. But first... let's break the ice with a question."

You paused, scanning the room before zeroing in on Luigi.

"Professor Mangione, since you've graciously decided to join us, maybe you'd like to enlighten us?"

Luigi, caught off guard but clearly entertained, straightened in his seat.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," you said with a mischievous smile. "Surely someone as brilliant as you already knows the answer."

You’re giggling inside, taking revenge from what he did to you. The students turned to look at him, curious about the unfolding interaction. He crossed his arms, leaning back with feigned contemplation.

"All right. Ask your question."

You didn't flinch, your smile widening slightly.

"Define 'criminal offense' in one concise sentence."

Luigi grinned awkwardly, eliciting a few quiet chuckles from the class. He could feel the challenge in your eyes. You were enjoying this. But instead of feeling trapped, he saw it as an opportunity to impress you.

"The criminal offense is..." He paused dramatically. "...an act or omission prohibited by law and punishable by a sanction."

You tilted your head, your smile triumphant.

"Not bad. But you forgot to mention that it must be defined by a legal provision. A crucial detail, Professor Mangione."

The students chuckled, appreciating the exchange. Luigi nodded, accepting the correction with good humor.

"You're right. My apologies, Professor y/s" he said with a submissive voice.

Throughout the lecture, you continued to engage the students, sparking debates and answering questions. But you couldn't resist circling back to Luigi, throwing him curveballs with hypothetical scenarios. He responded each time with a mix of humor and insight, keeping the atmosphere light and engaging.

Near the end of the session, you delivered your final jab.

"One last question for our special guest: Professor Mangione, in your opinion, what's the main difference between criminal law and a cybersecurity class?"

Without missing a beat, Luigi replied, his signature smirk in place:

"Easy. In cybersecurity, the goal is to avoid prison. In criminal law, you learn how to put others there."

The room erupted into laughter. You shook your head, amused but unwilling to let him have the last word.

"Well, I see a promising career in comedy if tech ever bores you."

As the class dispersed, Luigi approached the podium, hands in his pockets.

"Not bad, y/s. You really know how to hold a class's attention."

You packed up your things, smirking.

"Thanks. And you really know how to make a spectacle of yourself."

"I try my best to contribute to society," he said with mock seriousness.

You raised an eyebrow. "Admirable."

He looked at you, his tone softening.

"You need to stop complimenting me. I might start liking you more than I should."

You froze for a moment, unsure of his intent. Was he talking about friendship... or something more? He stepped closer, the distance between him and you shrinking as his gaze locked on yours.

"What?" You whispered, caught off guard.

"Are you free tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"Yes..."

"I'd like to take you somewhere. Would you say yes?"

"Is this... a date?" You asked, needing clarity.

He nodded with a shy smile on his face. "Yes."

For the first time, you blushed, your usual composure slipping.

"All right..."

Luigi's face lit up with his most genuine smile.

"Tomorrow, 7 p.m. I'll pick you up. What's your dorm?"

"John Jay, room 703."

"Got it. See you tomorrow."

You parted ways in silence, the tension lingering in the air. Once out of sight, Luigi exhaled deeply. He hadn't expected you to agree. His feelings for you were becoming too strong to ignore, and for once, he'd decided to take the leap.

You guys liked it ? Do you want me to write others stories of Luigi ?

[dollwrites]

WAAAAAAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT! You write Tokyo ghoul???? I NEED to be aware when you open requests again, I crave anything with my favorite Uta 😍🥰 I don’t see enough of him and I think you’d write him really really well!!!

ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴜᴛᴀ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!ghoul!reader, oral fixation ( fingers ), masturbation ( her! ), reader’s nonverbal, very very subtle pet play ( just the vibes i feel ), finger sucking, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰 ∣ intermission [ oral fixation ]

“Gently,” Uta reminded you, without so much as looking up from his work. with his right hand steadily swirling obsidian spirals over his newest creation, his left had been outstretched for you, willowy digits tracing the shape of your parted lips before slipping past the threshold, only to be welcomed by your eager tongue. upon tasting the pads of his fingertips, you have the sudden urge to clamp your lips down around the extremities, to suck on them, and relish the flavor of your lover, but you heed his warning and simply stroke each digit from knuckle to nail with your tongue, mouth hanging agape.

“Still quite a feral, little thing, but mind those teeth this time.” his pointer finger twisted slightly, to tap against the shape of your canines, and test their sharp edges, but you had no real intention of biting him. of course, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t do it by accident— which has happened before. you get a little too eager, a little too excited, and you snap your jaws shut like a hungry pup.

usually, you would grip his wrist with both hands, a silent plea not to take the taste of his fingers from your mouth, but right now yours were busy, too. they had both been occupied beneath the loose fabric of the oversized nightshirt you wore, one palming your breast, squeezing and pinching at your own nipple, whilst the other was shoved hastily into your panties, strumming your greedy pussy. you had become accustomed to Uta’s doting ever since he took you in; his constant touching on you, his affectionate lips and tongue seeking out your most sensitive parts, but when he worked you were utterly neglected.

so, you would find yourself in such a position, panting like a happy bitch on your knees at his feet, sucking and licking on his fingers as you tried to mimic the pleasure he could give you with your own hands. your skill paled in comparison to his, but it was all you could do to keep from interrupting him.

Uta knows this, which is why there’s a subtle tickle of pride in the way his lips creeped up, even as his crimson gaze remains fixed on the mask before him, at every sound you make. every heavy breath, every moan of his name. he knows that you’re needy, that your desperate for him, and he knows that to make you wait was probably a cruel punishment for a sweet, but ravenous little thing like you.

“Naughty, messy little girl.” he offers in a soothing tone, feeling webs of sticky drool tether his fingers to your tongue as you lick and suck on each one. the excess dribbles down your chin, either soaking into the fabric of your shirt or leaving a small puddle on the floor between your knees. “You can pet and pet that pretty pussy of yours, but you still can’t make yourself cum like I can, hm?” there’s a hint of arrogance in his soft chuckle, but it’s one well warranted. you shake your head, your tongue too busy to answer by forming words— drawing loops against the base of each finger, allowing the tips to reach deep into your mouth as they could, nearly gagging you as they prodded at your gullet. you rubbed your own fingers against your clit faster, pressing harder until you were squirming on your knees, scooting right up to his leg to press your whole body into it. your own, deep ruby stare flickered up to him, piercing… begging.

“That’s quite alright, I like being the only one that can tame you,” he offers, retracting his digits from your mouth. you let out a soft, disgruntled huff, attempting to follow them, to pull them back in, and worship them again with your tongue, but he doesn’t allow it. they travel downwards, and you watch as strings of saliva sever and drip from them and your own lips. grabbing the fabric of your nightshirt, he gives it a tug, pulling you upright, balancing tall on your knees, so that he can reach between your thighs without bending too far away from his mask in progress. your head swims, and you let out a little whimper as slick, svelte pads push your own away and tap against your puffy button, teasing you further, assessing your sticky sex. Uta lets out a soft, fond sigh, “There she is. Throbbing and swollen for me.” your tongue flicks and rolls impatiently just behind the seal of your couplet, desperate to be occupied, too, so your own fingers pry beyond the barrier created by your lips, leaving the scent and taste of your own cunt on them. you suck on them, purring in pure ecstasy at the sensation of Uta teasing your clit. it wasn’t enough to make you cum, but it was plenty to keep you right on the edge you’d led yourself to, so as not to sully your hard work with a ruined orgasm.

“But you’ll have to occupy yourself for a bit longer, little thing.” he said, resolved, gently pulling his hand back, sitting upright in his seat again. you whine, and -to keep from losing that built up tension- slam yourself down against his foot, grinding your damp panty-clad pussy against his shoe as you lean against his leg. he gives the top of your head an affectionate pat, before he immersing himself in his art. “I’m still busy, you know.”

[mamawasatesttube]

i started thinking about what my dream comic run would be and now im just daydreaming about the pre flashpoint timkon that could've been again …. sighs wistfully. hear me out.

my dream comic run = a pren52 superboy/red robin teamup book, ft. tim moving to metropolis for university and becoming roommates with kon (not instantly, though), and both of them winding up investigating two different ends of an interconnected intergang scheme involving the smuggling of apokoliptian weapons (as a sorta callback to moxie mannheim's stuff in early postcrisis superman).

side plots would include retconning the lex retcon and also flipping the bird to john byrne at the same time, i.e. confirming kon as a clone of superman, kon coming out as gay in a very emotional superfam issue, krypto's constant destruction of every single vacuum cleaner tim buys, etc. the first arc has tim living in the dorms at metropolis university and struggling with secret identity shenanigans at the same time as maintaining classes, and also wanting to clobber the guitar guy in the common room with his own guitar.

there would also be a constant and a rotating cast of guest star teamups (connorkyle! supergirl! steel!) because the superfam love kon and tim is The Teamup Guy. nightwing drops by at some point to give tim entirely unasked-for pointers on his case (intentionally being annoying until tim snaps and starts swinging at him, at which point he backflips out the window and cackles the whole way down). wonder girl comes by to bemoan her love life to kon and ends up fighting an alien mech with him, then turns to him and immediately goes right back into her lesbian agonies. there's a running gag across issues that impulse keeps showing up just to eat the leftovers out of their fridge.

at least one issue would include kon taking tim to visit ma on the weekend and teaching him to milk a cow (in a callback to superman 155). tim would be bad at it and so mad that he's bad at it. kon would be glowing in the morning sunlight, unfairly beautiful, and giggling at his expense. tim gets even more frustrated because not only is he bad at milking a cow, but also kon is ethereal in a pair of old patched overalls and the bisexual crisis he's trying to outrun is catching up Real Fast.

and it would play very intentionally with genre conventions!!! the tim-led parts would have a real noir/detective vibe, and the kon-led parts would be a scifi story and then surprise! they actually are the same story and meet in the middle. you think it's two mostly unrelated stories bc tim is tracking a mysterious smuggling operation (he doesn't know what the weapons are that they're smuggling) (it's apokoliptian and other alien weapons) and kon's trying to figure out what happened to a group of aliens gone missing on earth (they are the very illegal merchants selling these weapons to intergang and related buyers). and then when tim and kon come together and realize they've both been investigating the same grand scheme, it becomes the marriage of both themes, some kind of scifi noir story.

the climax of this arc would include kon taking a [really big] hit for tim (bc it 1000% would've obliterated tim down to the atomic level), and tim freaking the fuck out bc kon goes down and doesn't immediately get up. tim has to process his "kon getting hurt and possibly killed" anxiety disorder, kon has to process "oh shit i think getting killed might actually have traumatized me," and then they end up having a very emotional first kiss about it.

also it's a run that leads into them eventually rebranding as a couple and debuting as supernova and rook (or cardinal or blackbird or what have you for tim), which would be their new teamup book name, replacing superboy/red robin. <3

[milomelts]

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: she/her reader, blowjobs, dirty talk obvi, age gap noted but not relevant, nothing else really except my oral fixation going brrr

Note: just a small blurb cuz i feel feral for robby yall 😫 (edited by my gf everybody say ty 😚🖤)

———————————

Sometimes Robby couldn’t keep up with his younger girlfriend.

The constant teasing from you - even while you both were at work - would rile him up.

He found himself in bad habits lately - checking the time repetitively, snapping at the interns, even taking a time out to splash water in his face in the bathroom. Just when he thought his brain took back control from his dick and he could get through the next five minutes without you crossing his mind, you were there again. You would saunter past to the nurses station, leaning over the counter to put your ass on display, peering back over your left shoulder just in time to catch his defeated sigh - that damn smile tugging at your lips catching him in the act, staring how you knew he’d be. Oh yeah, you were in for it once you got home.

Truthfully, the farthest you would make it would be the third floor supply closet. An unused, dusty one full of old pandemic PPE and, more importantly, a door with a reliable lock.

He’s got one hand on the back of your head, lazily threaded in your hair as his cock bobs in and out of your mouth. With his free hand, he reaches into his jacket pocket, fingers fumbling with the edges of his glasses. He flicks them open, settling them on the bridge of his nose so he can get a better view of the way your tongue swirls around his tip. He lets his length fall out of your mouth, grip on your scalp taut and commanding, fingers quickly replacing what he depraved you of as he toys with your tongue, an embarrassing amount of your spit dribbling down your chin as his fingers held your mouth wide open, inspective glazed eyes full of adoration.

He would always let a string of spit drip from his mouth down to yours, smearing it over your puffy lips and tongue with his fingers before he’s pulling them out and slamming his cock down your throat again without warning.

“Taking me so well baby,” he murmurs, full attention on you as his brown eyes lock with your hooded ones staring up at him. “Such a good little mouth.”

His heart caught in his throat seeing you like this, the shiny tears trailing down your cheeks, lips red and swollen around his length, one hand wrapped around the base you couldn’t tongue while the other held you steady on the chilled linoleum.

You let his hand hold your jaw in place as he owns the pace, wet fingers squeezing at your cheeks as you hollow around him. You could tell he was close, soft curses turning whiney and breathless, glasses sliding up his forehead as his gaze turned upward. He jerked against your mouth almost erratically, skin of your cheek pinched between his thumb and pointer as he sung your devotion.

“Fuck, just like that - don’t - don’t fucking change a thing,” he would choke out, hand letting go of your jaw to press against the wall behind you. “Such a good girl for me, this is all you wanted huh? All the teasing just so you could choke on my cock, taste my cum down your throat, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

He would always pull you off early, dick twitching in your hands as you whined from the loss of contact, pleading eyes staring up into his blown out pupils. You knew he wanted you to beg, he always wanted you to beg, wanted to know you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“Please,” You would bat your eyelashes up at him, spit dripping down your chin onto your exposed chest making Robby drop his head forward with a groan before giving you a scolding look that screamed ‘more’. You needed to beg more, and you always knew just what to say to make him go crazy.

“Please Dr. Robby, I need your cum down my throat.”

“You are gonna kill me,” he spat, sliding his cock back in the warmth of your mouth, and you eagerly took it in.

He barely lasts, your broken hum of contentment juxtaposed with the tears lining your waterline are enough to have him cumming instantly, cock pulsing against your tongue as he all but collapses into you.

You would swallow every drop before pressing gentle kisses to his sensitive tip while he panted and twitched against your touch, desperate to pull away from the oversimulation but unwilling to tear himself away from you. It was an addiction - you were an addiction- every time. He watched as you tucked him back into his scrub pants, pressing soft kisses to soft stomach as you made your way up from your knees.

“This was the last time,” he’d say.

“Of course,” you’d say.

“This was… incredibly unprofessional,” he’d spit out.

“See you next time, boss.” you’d smile.

[thisismyhell]

Talking Back

Summary: you're the newest on the team, but instead of getting the newbie roasts, you join in on making Reid the constant punching bag. He's getting tired of the public humiliation, even though it turns him on a little bit.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: humiliation, making out, heavy petting, hickeys, hand job

You were sitting in the briefing room reading your respective files. It was a slow day and you were brainstorming helpful pointers for a local precinct. Without having to get on the jet, the room had no urgency. Sitting relaxed in your chair you went over the facts in your file, thinking about your own profile before contributing. 

Spencer sat across from you and was trying to act casual. Everyone was focused on their tasks but he couldn’t get himself to concentrate for too long without looking back up at you. He had been looking at the same page for 3 minutes and he was worried someone else was going to notice and ask him what was wrong. He was prepared to lie but didn’t want to if he didn’t have to. 

He was fidgeting with his hair, moving it behind his ear too often and almost choking out of awkwardness. His brow was sweating but it was August so he had an excuse ready. He watched as you chewed on the end of your pencil. 

“Y/n you know it isn’t healthy to put pencils in your mouth, you could end up poisoning yourself over time.”

“I’m chewing the erasure Spence. Like an oral fixation or whatever.”

He almost starts crying from how fast he blinks repeatedly. He doesn’t know what to say to you. Over the months you have been on the team, you have rendered him speechless multiple times and he’s really starting to hate it. Out of everyone on the team it’s you who makes him flustered and embarrassed. He wishes he had the guts to get mad at you for it but something tells him you’d see right through it. 

Spencer remembers a time a few months ago when he had to discipline you over not following protocol in the field. It was just the two of you following someone and you went forward without his knowing. You were still new and you were mandated to follow him, not the other way around. Everything went accordingly, but he wasn’t in the room first. He pulled you aside saying, “y.n, you cannot do that again” with his hand gripping your forearm. 

“Reid relax, everything’s fine”

“No it’s not fine, you can’t just go on your own like that you’re new!”

You glanced down at his grip on you, raising your eyebrows. He noticed and let you go. He tried a different tactic and stood up straighter towards you. He was already taller than you but he was really trying to make a point out of it this time. 

“Listen just- just don’t make a habit out of it.”

You giggled and walked away. That in itself was also unprofessional, and both of you knew it, but you knew that he didn’t actually care about the rules right now. He felt weird that you dominated him in this social situation and didn’t know how to react to you like he did with Emily. 

Reid prides himself on being composed and intellectual. When you entered his life you spun him around and made him second guess many many things. Women weren’t a problem for him, this he knew. He is friends with Emily, JJ, Garcia, Elle, this part wasn’t the issue. The issue was that not only were you a woman, but you weren’t listening to him. You were the newest on the team and you seemed to respect everyone else equally. But with Spencer, it was anyone’s guess. 

You knew you were the fresh meat and you also knew that a man like Reid is always the punching bag. You wanted to play along and bypass your newbie roasting. Everyone was catching on to this except Reid. 

He was still looking at you when you finally put the pencil down and he exhaled. 

“You happy now, spence? I won’t poison myself.”

He gulps but doesn’t answer. He just looks back down at his file. Hotch comes back in the room with more papers and passes them to Emily to pass the rest down around the table. You take yours and lean over to pass the last one to Reid. He looks up and notices the top button on your top has become loose. He imagines what would happen if the other buttons simply fell apart revealing your chest.

He’s still in his fantasy when his fingertips touch your knuckles. He’s never touched your hands before and they’re softer than he thought. He can smell your deodorant and perfume too. He hopes some of it will linger on him so he can remember this moment again later. 

“Reid? The paper?”

He pulls it from your hand and busies himself with reading it. After a few moments he hears you whispering to Emily. He assumes it’s about his weird behaviour and doesn’t want to wait and find out. He gets up awkwardly from his chair and it swivels around him, almost tripping him. You giggle again and try to hide it but it’s too late. You watch as he nervously excuses himself to the bathroom. 

Entering the bathroom he thanks god it’s empty. He has to deal with the stretch in his pants and he’s running through the ways to get rid of it. Should he touch himself? Or should he run through unpleasant thoughts until it subsides?

He’s leaning over the sink and staring at himself in the mirror when he hears the door open. He moves to enter a stall for privacy but when he turns around he meets your eyes. You’re looking at him with a smirk and he hates you. Of course you’re here right now with him, of fucking course. You just love getting under his skin like this. 

“You wanna talk about that?”

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“That’s not what I asked about. I said, do you want to talk about that?”

He shakes his head but you stalk closer to him anyway. He wants you to back out the door and forget this ever happened. He wants you to pounce on him and make it go away for him. He wants to make you feel humiliated like he does, and wonders if it would turn you on too. 

You’re in front of him now, pressing him against the counter without even touching him. If he had this kind of power over you, things would be different. He wouldn’t have to use his intellect or his body. You would just succumb to him without the fanfare. 

“Can I touch you?”

“I don’t think I have ever heard you ask permission to do something, y/n”

You look up at him with your big doe eyes, putting your hand on his tie, “I don’t like making a habit of it. Well?”

“Please…”

“Please…what?”

“God y/n..please…please just touch me.”

And you put your mouth on his. He’s finally tasting you and he starts to whimper. You eat it up as it eggs you on. You keep eating him up and he can barely stand it. If he was too tight in his pants before, now it’s almost painful. 

You put your hand over it and push, making a moan escape his mouth into yours. 

“Please…y/n…please..”

“What? What is it baby, what do you want?”

“Touch me. Please just- just touch me.”

You unzip his pants and put your hand inside. Spencer pulls his head away from you and you watch each other. His dick is in your hands and he’s whimpering as you put on the most innocent face you can manage. His jaw opens and you admire the sharpness. He’s so beautiful, how could you pass up this opportunity of obsession? 

Spencer barely has any energy left in him and he knows he’s going to finish any second. He leans his head into your neck and starts to suck, wanting to leave a mark. At least this way you won’t be able to ignore this afterwards. This can be a way for him to talk to you about this again, maybe make it happen again. 

“Y/vn, y/n I’m gonna….I’m gonna-”

He finished in your hand before he could say your name again. He coats your palm and you keep going until he tears up. He’s already getting hard again.

“I think you can do better than that, baby.”

He just wants to please you. He isn’t even touching you but he just wants to make you feel good this way if he can. He’ll touch you another time, when he brings up the hickey. He’ll tell you he likes the way his hickey looks on you and then he can be the one to touch you. 

He’s so hard he’s crying and can’t help it. Your hand just feels so good and you deserve to know just how good you are making him feel. This feeling is all your fault and you know that. You’re dragging it out of him whether he likes it or not. 

He finishes again and grabs the counter behind him to steady himself. You’re kissing his neck and calling him a good boy, saying he did so well. 

“Good boy Spencer. I knew you could do it for me, huh? Didn’t I say so?”

“Yes…yes you did y/n.”

Before you have the chance to walk away he grabs you and pulls you into his chest. He’s kissing you like he wishes he kissed you when he disciplined you. With his mouth on you and his hands gripping you, he turns you around so you’re pressed into the counter this time. You let him and he realizes this. You could easily push him away but you aren’t letting him. You’re right where you want to be. 

Spence kisses you hungrily while grabbing your ass, not wanting to miss the opportunity. He knows you can do so much better than him and he doesn’t want to take the chance. He sucks another hickey onto the other side of your neck and you let him. 

Of course you’ll want to do this again with him, but you enjoy messing with him more. You unbutton your shirt and he mouths down your chest, sucking and biting. It’s starting to hurt you but you like it. You like the passion he has and you don’t mind the marks he leaves. You’d let the boy cover you. 

Just as you start unclasping your bra, both your phones go off. You pull apart from each other and check the message. You have another case and have to get back to the meeting room ASAP. 

His hair is a mess and you’re both sweating. Reid buttons your shirt for you without being asked, and you move to fix his hair. He lets you. You’re both unsure of how to walk back into that room, but he knows he’ll end up letting you go first.

[theurgists]

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺ BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS ༻♱༉‧₊˚.

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: there's some tension on your picnic date with ellie.

warning(s): sexual tension, making out (?), fluff, ellie being ellie, thigh touching, illusions to smut, not proof-read.

note: i'm basically edging y'all....

Light-clouded skies turn to nightshade. A canvas devoid of any signs of activity except minuscule speckles of stars; something that’s only noticeable if you squint your eyes hard enough that you’d feel some sort of aching pressure behind your sockets.

The discomfort of the action hits you when your hands lift to rub at the tight skin around your irises, lifting each leg slightly to direct yourself onward into the abyss. Shuffling through high, unkempt grass, the smile that graces your lips is subtle as it tickles the flesh of your shins in a flurry. It’s a prickly sensation; one that signals gooseflesh to appear, the hairs on your arms to rise, and the fabric of your dress to shift against the upper half of your thighs.

A gentle breeze sends the thin blanket wrapped around your shoulders to fly backward slightly, waving as you flex your warm fingers; aiming to clutch it tightly across yourself as you shiver.. You had underestimated how cold it’d be, and so it had caused you to under-dress for the occasion of a nightly stroll beyond the fortified walls you’d surely get in trouble for crossing past patrol hours. 

 There’s a small pinch that appears on the right side of your jaw from its tautness, an overwhelming sense of insecurity threatening to creep up on you in the form of warm cheeks and a slight frown as you rub the material of the blanket between your thumb and pointer, relishing in the roughness of the texture to distract yourself from another shiver wracking your body. This time was a little more violent than the last.

“It’s a little darker than I thought it’d be.” Ellie’s nervous laughter reaches your ears beyond the aggressive push of the wind and the constant hoots of owls hidden deep within the thick brush of tree branches; small thumps made by the creatures of the night on pillowed greenery littered with small twigs.

Glancing down at the laces of her tearing sneakers, she narrows her eyes, suddenly aware of just how rock-ridden this particular path is. Almost immediately she’s cursing herself for how inconsiderate it might seem that she’s making you trudge through the wilderness – as if this isn’t a daily occurrence to you both. 

“Watch your step.” It’s a mumble that makes its way past her lips before she can help it.

Nodding, you survey the surrounding area, taking notice of an extensive log just a couple of feet ahead, not too far away from dim lights decorating the roof trimmings of withering houses littering the streets of Jackson. Raising your arm, you point to said log, the material of your dress lifting a couple of inches. “What about over there?”

Ellie couldn’t help but take notice of it, unashamedly scanning her forest-green irises across your bare legs in the sliver of the moon, stopping right at the inner corner of your thigh.  “Okay, yeah, that’s a good spot.” 

Turning to face her, you eye the beat-up picnic basket in her left hand; her knuckles white as she adjusts her grip. Raising your eyebrows, a twinge of curiosity suddenly piques within you.

“What’d you bring in that basket?”

Her newfound expression contorts every muscle resting underneath the surface of her freckled skin as she shrugs her shoulders. The corners of her warm, plump lips twinge, failing to hide the smile that appears a second later. 

You had no idea why she was grinning ear to ear; although it wasn’t something foreign to you - just an action that had become rare as of late considering the circumstances she’d been struggling to deal with.

“I made us a couple of sandwiches. Thought we could sit here and watch the stars.” Ellie’s words falter as she lifts her unoccupied hand to tug at the already loose tie on her neck, suddenly aware of how tight it was. Tilting her head back, she sighs through her teeth, internally cursing at the clear sky’s lack of sight-seeing features.

All her efforts had gone to complete waste, well, at least in the crevices of her mind. “This isn’t going well so far.”

Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you shiver, removing the blanket around your bare shoulders. Swallowing the saliva in your mouth, you set it on the ground, lowering yourself to crawl across the pattered fabric with purpose – smoothing it out as best you could.

“You’re already giving up on our little date? Didn’t peg you for a quitter.” 

You were pushing her buttons; playfully, she had come to realize when you purse your lips together, attempting to suppress your laughter at her offended expression. 

“Am not.” She scoffs, averting her gaze from your hunched figure.

 “Y’know what?” Ellie scratches the back of her ear before joining, left knee knocking against yours, leaving little to no space between. “We’re gonna eat these sandwiches and we’re gonna find…something to look at while we do.” 

Humming in amusement, you nod your head, as she fishes through the basket; pulling out two square-shaped tin-foil-covered sandwiches. 

Ellie can’t help the sudden blush that coats her cheeks when your fingers brush against the lapped skin of her knuckles. She wills herself to listen to the chirps of crickets and the rustle of grass when the wind sweeps through once more.

This time, it’s a little bone-chilling, and she tries not to let her teeth clack together as a shiver makes its way up her spine through the thinness of her shirt. 

“I appreciate you taking the time to do all of this, y’know.” 

“Do what?” Taking a small nibble of her sandwich, Ellie avoids looking in your direction, though she can see the skin on your face contort into an expression of playful annoyance. You poke her left shoulder with your finger, watching as she sways the opposite way.

A small smile graces your lips. “I’m serious. Thank you. I’ve never had someone go out of their way to take me on a picnic date.”

She raises a brow, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The small glimmer of moonlight peaking through trees casts a halo around her face, making her tresses look dark, angelic features rivaling those you’d see in dusted books when on patrols. 

The sight makes you bite down on the soft, pillowed flesh of your bottom lip, a lustful glint in your eyes as you drink her in like the wine you’d have on get-together nights back in town. Your eyes cautiously wander to her lips, imagining them in between your thighs, on your neck, the valley of your breasts. 

Anywhere. 

Anywhere but on that damn bread, she seems so interested in. 

“You okay?”

“Huh?”

Ellie’s hearty laugh is enough to pull you out of the pool of arousal you’d almost drowned yourself in. 

“I asked you if you wanted anything to drink.” 

As she turns her head away from you, the skin near her mouth wrinkles, a grin decorating her face once again as she pulls out a small flask and hands it to you without twisting to face you, ‘Yeah, sorry, I was just spaced out.” You take the flask from her graciously, making sure that yet again your fingers are lingering atop hers just a bit longer than necessary. You can feel cubes of ice sloshing within the liquid as you uncap it at the neck, lifting it to your lips and guzzling down a couple of sips. 

Water. It was supposed to be cooling, but it somehow could not quell the burning desire that vibrated your bones as you breathed in deeply, tearing your gaze away from her to stare at the nothingness surrounding you.

You can feel her irises on your face now, analyzing the same way you did her, not a minute before. The crunch of foil reaches your ears, signifying she’s done with her meal, meanwhile, yours is still sitting beside you. 

She does not ask why you haven’t touched it. She knows why. 

She makes you just as nervous as you make her, even if your lips are nowhere near her skin like she so desperately wants them to be. You’ve kissed her before.

 Numerous times. But somehow this seemed different, and Ellie wasn’t sure if that was a realization that should strike her with fear, or numb her fingers with desire. It was true that you both decided not to label whatever you both had going on, everyone knew that it was her bed that you’d seek at the end of the night, and it brought her a swell of pride.

No one else but her smelled the scent of woodsmoke and citrus when the sun shone through her window. It was too strong, lingering like the sensation of the scarred bumps poking from beneath the ink of her tattoo. It was pleasant; a gaping wound that she’d rub salt into just to feel a delicious ache.

You were so close in distance but yet, so far from reach that it frustrated her to no end. Ellie wholeheartedly wants you in the same way you want her. So much so, that her heart thrums erratically against her chest, lips parted to intake the air you breathe.

Fuck. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” It comes out in a breathless whisper. 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat, trying to keep the knot of anxiety coiling within your stomach at bay. “Is there someone else?”

An idiot. You were an idiot. The wide-eyed, frowning, and almost… disappointed look you give her solidifies that.

You lift a hand as if waving off your words. “Forget I even said anything.”

She grabs said hand, palms as warm as a lit fire, holding it to her chest, just an inch away from her heart. You can tell that you’ve left her speechless, and not for the reason that’s stitching itself in your brain. A reason she is quick to deny. 

“What?” A chuckle tunnels from her throat. One full of pain and complete disbelief that you’d automatically assume the worst of her. “No, I care about you more than I do myself.”

Her admission sends a jolt of guilt coursing through you, the left leg crossing over the right as you stare at her hand clutched in yours, “It’s just…” 

You trail off as she brings your hand up to her lips, warm breath fanning your skin before she presses a chaste kiss to the back of it. 

She doesn’t stop there, plump flesh peppering small pecks up your arm. She hums against your shoulder blade, urging you to go on. The hairs on your arms raise.

“We never really talk about — oh…”

Warmth makes its way up your neck, her lips not relenting in their assault on your skin as she sucks and licks below your pulse point. It’s hot and wet, and — oh god, you cannot think of anything else.

“It’s kinda funny.” She says between kisses, her now free hand rubbing circles on the bone of your ankle before agonizingly finding its way up.

“Mhm. What is?” Your eyes are screwed shut, your very being growing giddy at the feel of her nails digging into the flesh of your inner thigh. 

Ellie feels the heat pooling between your legs on her wandering fingers, as she grips the fat of your leg in the palm of her hand. This elicits a hiss of pleasure from you, so deep, so delectable, that she’d swallow it hole if her mouth was not already occupied.

“How you think I can feel anything for anyone else.” The ridges of her teeth skim across your jaw, and before you know it, she’s devouring you. 

The force of her kiss knocks you off balance, sending you sprawled on your back, legs parting as she makes her way in between them, never once disconnecting your lips from a kiss so passionate and raw, that it makes your insides quiver with anticipation. 

��I told you to forget about it.” It’s a quick response you manage to get out the second her lips detach from yours, a hand finding its way into her scalp, pulling her hair at the roots.

She stares down at you, eyes swimming with a certain need to see you — hear you writhing beneath her in pleasure.

 “I intend to make sure we both do.”