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#how can he be damning himself if he’s only finally showing all his power?
unheavenlyvision · 2 days
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NEW JOB
pairing: gojo satoru/reader
wc: 7.1k
summary: starting a new job is always hard, especially when you're tasked with a glorified babysitting role for the most powerful sorcerer and his antics, but what happens when you somehow find yourself growing oddly attached to his weird behaviours and teasing nature
a/n; i am obsessing over this 2d man and i cannot be stopped, come near me and i'm infecting you with thoughts of him. anyways! new blog so i can write for jjk hehehhohoh (i wrote this in a single sitting because i'm mentally unwell)
warnings: 18+ only, smut, making out, dry humping, hickeys, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, big dick gojo (duh), creampie, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, nicknames
MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
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Why you were here, you had no clue… well you did, you just wish you didn’t have to be here but being forced to do this was putting it lightly. It’s frustrating because they act like you don’t have your own jobs to handle but now you’re being forced to be Gojo Satoru’s handler as well. This is going to be a much more taxing job than exorcising any curse, why he insisted on pissing off the higher ups is beyond you. Not that you’re completely innocent in those regards, mind you.
You’re sat waiting in Yaga’s office, waiting for a certain someone who treats showing up on time as optional. Looking at the clock behind Yaga, you see it’s bordering on 15 minutes since he was supposed to be here.
You deflate slightly with your quiet sigh, “Do I really need to be h–”
“–Yes,” is the only reply you get out of the man in front of you, eyes unreadable but based on the aura of the room, he’s beyond pissed.
Sinking further into your seat, you murmur about how annoying all of this is, it’s meant for Yaga to hear but he ignores you. Seeing Gojo is going to take years off your life, you’ve crossed paths with him many times in the past few years, he has a bad habit of interrupting your exorcisms, finishing them, and then getting on your nerves.
The door behind you slides open and shut loudly, making your heart lurch inside your chest, while you outwardly fight the urge to flinch. Gojo moves in behind you and leans down, “Didn’t scare you, did I?” There’s an annoying mirth in his tone as he carelessly rounds the seat and sits far too close to you.  
You don’t spare him a glance, “No.”
He smiles at you knowingly but says nothing more, finally addressing Yaga, “What’s up?”
“You’re late,” Yaga takes in a deep breath, fighting the urge to yell at him.
Gojo’s smile grows, his words picked carefully to piss the pair of you off more, “Well, I know that part, I meant why am I being summoned here.”
You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Why is he only being informed of this now?” You ask, irritated with not only Gojo but the whole damn system. You were told nearly two weeks ago that this was happening, how hadn’t he been told until now.
Yaga looks at you like it should be fairly obvious why they waited and you guess it is, he’s blind-sided this way, he doesn’t have a chance to wriggle out of it when today is the official first day of your new job babysitting Gojo Satoru and his first-year students. Oh, this is just perfect for you and not foreboding at all.
Before you have a chance to speak again, Yaga says, almost like he’s delighting in how inconveniencing this will be for Gojo, that, “You now have a teaching assistant, Gojo. You will be monitored as well as your students and everything will be reported back to me.”
“Ah, a glorified babysitter, how lovely,” Gojo’s smile doesn’t drop but it does look more strained.
Yaga doesn’t take kindly to his tone, “Watch it, this is fully deserved and you know it.”
“I’ve done nothing,” he defends himself.
You scoff slightly at that and Gojo side eyes you, you make an active effort to avoid his gaze though and instead focus on what Yaga is saying, “After that stunt you pulled with faking Itadori’s death recently, you’re lucky to be getting off so easy.”
Gojo jabs his thumb in your direction, “So what’s her punishment for then?”
You finally look at him, “Excuse me?”
“Well, I don’t imagine this is something one signs up for, so what did you do to piss off the higher ups,” his smile is teasing and so is his tone.
You squint at his stupid blindfold before looking back at Yaga, “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Yaga coughs at your statement but doesn’t let Gojo’s endless amusement at your suffering continue, “What may or may not have happened is none of your business Gojo–”
“–Ah, so something did happen then,” he elbows at your shoulder and you grumble at him.
Yaga completely ignores Gojo’s antics, “Your only concern is to be accommodating and keep her in the loop.”
He waves a hand easily, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” he brushes off the conversation with a sceptical nonchalance. His palms hit his knees as he pulls himself off the seat, “Is that all?”
Yaga pauses, watching him carefully for a moment before acquiescing, “Yes, that’s all, get out.”
“Come on, troublemaker, you have three adorable first years to meet!” his tone is too chipper and you don’t take kindly to his nickname for you but you stand from the seat and bow at Yaga before following behind him.
⸝⸝⸝
You are… uncomfortable, to say the least. The three first years sit in front of you, confused and waiting for some kind of explanation but Gojo just leans against the lectern, amused smile plastered on his face. You’re nervous, children can be so… scary, they were scary when you were their age and now you’re getting stage fright, in front of three people.
Gojo giggles behind you, granting some mercy… his version of mercy anyways, “We have a new addition to the class!”
“She’s… a student?” The one you recognise as Itadori tilts his head in question.
You can hear the glee drip from Gojo’s voice, “Well in some ways–”
“–No.” You cut him off abruptly, “I am… uhm, a teaching assistant… of sorts…”
The girl, very clearly unamused, questions further, “And what are you gonna be doing?”
You freeze up, you do know what you’re meant to be doing but you’re getting shy, you’ve never been good at being put on the spot.
Gojo finally moves from behind the lectern and places a hand on your shoulder, “She’s basically… my babysitter!” He announces, large smile on his face.
The students look… completely not shocked, like they expected something like this to happen at some point.
“I am here to help though! So, if you have questions or want someone to spar against or if Gojo is unavailable and you need help on a mission, I am here to be of service,” you smile lightly, trying to be kind. If you’re going to be here, you want to be of some use.
Itadori nods in thought, “So, are you strong?”
You feel warm in the face at the question, it’s not something you’ve ever been asked really. You think you are, you’re definitely capable but you’re nowhere near Gojo.
While deep in thought, Gojo replies for you, “Yes.” His reply is simple and leaves them all with more questions.
You throw a glance at Gojo before answering for yourself, “I am capable and willing to help.”
⸝⸝⸝
Your first introductions went better than you expected, you quite like them all, even the quiet one who’s always in a bad mood. Things would’ve gone better if Gojo didn’t delight in teasing you in front of them all, it’s embarrassing to be poked and prodded at for some kind of a reaction, you mean, isn’t he meant to be an adult for crying out loud.
It’s only been about a week and a bit into you ‘babysitting’ Gojo and you think he might be attempting to annoying you into quitting but that isn’t an option for you. The kids are sparring on the open field and Gojo is at your side, poking the side of your face with a mischievous smirk plastered on his. He’s been trying and failing to get a reaction out of you for the past 10 minutes.
“Gojo, is there something you want from me, or are you just waiting for me to try and smack you,” Turning your body, you face him completely, your hands on your hips.
He shoves his hand behind his back quickly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just poking your cheek, “I don’t know what you mean.”
Sighing you continue, “If you’re trying to annoy me into quitting, you’re going to find that awful difficult, I have to be here.”
“Quite the contrary, I like having you here, troublemaker,” he smiles, leaning against the tree behind him.
“It doesn’t feel like it,” you grit out.
He hums lightly, “That’s just cause you’re not used to my love language.”
Raising a brow at him, you ask, “Your love language is being absurdly annoying?”
“Now you’re getting it,” he pokes you directly on your nose and you exhale sharply, twisting your lips to hide any hint of amusement. Turning back to the students you resume ignoring him, which he huffs dejectedly at, “If you’re gonna be watching over me for a while, you may as well get used to talking to me, I think I’m quite enjoyable.”
“Of course you would think that,” you retort.
“Ouch,” he grabs his chest, pretending to be wounded, he pushes off the tree and hangs an arm over both your shoulders, his weight pressing into you, “So… seriously, what did you do?” His head is turned to the side of yours, watching for your reactions.
You’re starting to feel uncomfortable at his proximity but apparently so are the others because Kugisaki turns and points at Gojo, yelling, “Don’t hang off her like that, perv!”
You stifle a laugh at her accusation, as Fushiguro rolls his eyes and grimaces.
Gojo calls out, “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” He wraps both his arms around you and pokes his tongue out at them all.
You’re squished against him and it’s making you hot, “Gojo, if you don’t peel yourself off of me in the next few seconds I’m going to rip out your tongue.”
“I don’t think you would be able to, is the thing though,” he snickers down at you, he does release you though, taking a step back.
You feel beyond annoyed and as much as you know your fist won’t connect, you go to throw a powerful punch at him anyways. It predictably gets stopped by his infinity, never even making it close to his face.
“Oh wow, you tried to punch me!” He exclaims in faux hurt, his hand reaches up to yours and unfurls your fist, instead interlacing your fingers, “I was wondering how long it would take for you to crack and try and hit me.”
You sigh in defeat, “Gojo, please let go of my hand.”
“Tell me what you did and I just might,” he propositions.
The kids are yelling at Gojo from the field, cursing him out for being weird, which of course, he only finds hilarious.
“Gojo,” he hums at you in acknowledgement, “Do you think if I tried really hard, and willed it to happen, that me kicking you in the balls would connect?”
He pouts at your words, apparently holding out for a different response, “Oh, how you wound me.” He drops your hand with a sigh, “Can’t be that bad, tell meeeee,” he whinges slightly, attempting a new way of annoying you, clearly.
“You’re right, it’s not that bad, but it’s way more fun not to tell you at this point,” you smile brightly at him and his eyes widen in slight shock at the display.
He continues pouting, “Cruel…”
You just shrug at him in response.
⸝⸝⸝
Every time Gojo is around, he is trying to get you to tell him why you were assigned to be his handler. You don’t tell him, you just shrug or smile like you have no idea why, you understand why he likes to tease a bit now, seeing him so upset over something so small does brighten your day just a little bit.
As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve grown fond of his company, as well as the three kids. You thought this would be more hellish, and while on some occasions it is, you quite enjoy your day to days now. Filled with his teasing tone and stupid smile, you’re feeling comfortable with them all.
Your only complaint is that, while this is what you’re expected to be doing most of the time, the fact that sorcerers are hard to come by hangs true and you are still sent on solo missions on a whim. It’s only annoying because you’re expected to come and go easily, like fighting off first-grade or high-grade curses isn’t completely taxing.
Today you enter the classroom slightly later than usual, having been absent since the middle of yesterday, you didn’t even have time to sleep, you showered and came straight here. You mumble an offhanded good morning before collapsing into a chair in the corner of the front of the class.
“Look who decided to show back up,” Gojo chirps.
“Mmm, too loud… too much… so early,” you grumble back.
Itadori asks what no one else does, “Where did you go?”
You sigh into the air, “Ah, I had a job, it’s fine though, here now,” you smile lazily.
Gojo scrutinises you from behind his blindfold, he can tell you’re tired, hell, everyone could tell you’re tired. Your head is barely staying up, almost lolling to the side, looking for somewhere to rest so you can sleep.
“Maybe you should go home,” he comments, uncharacteristically serious.
You peek an eye open at him, they had fallen closed, when did they close? “Can’t.” you mutter out, “I’m needed here, so you don’t do anything stupid.”
“You aren’t going to be able to stop me if you’re asleep,” he retorts.
“No but it won’t look as bad if I am at least here,” you cover your mouth as you yawn.
He moves over to your corner and bends down, “If I promise to behave will you go home?”
“Probably not,” you smirk up at him, “I don’t think I’d believe you.”
Kugisaki groans, “Flirt on your own time!”
You bark a laugh at that, the back and forth you have with Gojo is not how you flirt and you imagine it’s not how he does either, “Yeah, Gojo. Go away.” You say, playing into it.
His smile is light as he turns away from you, “Fine but if you complain about a backache later from sleeping in that chair it’s not my fault.”
“I’m not gonna fall asleep,” you counter.
⸝⸝⸝
You fell asleep.
You don’t know when exactly it happened, you just know it did… and that you’re embarrassed. When you startle awake in your seat, you can hear the distant noises of the students sparring and the breeze flowing through the – previously – closed windows.
“Hey, you’re up,” Gojo notices from his spot, lazing in the students desks.
You sit up a bit more, “How long–”
“–How long were you asleep?” He finishes for you, “A couple hours.”
“Why are you in here?” You ask, “Why aren’t you with the first-years?”
“The first-years are sparring with the second-years, they’re fine,” he too, sits up more, “I stayed cause I didn’t wanna leave you alone in here.”
You raise a brow at him, “That or you just didn’t wanna actually do your job today.”
“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs easily.
“Mhm, thought so,” standing up completely, you stretch out your limbs, joints aching from sleeping in the chair.
“I didn’t think you would also be doing solo missions while being here,” he comments from behind you.
“Well… you know how shorthanded we are,” you walk over to where he’s sitting, “Plus, me being here is almost as much as a punishment for me as it is for you,” you remind.
“That’s funny, I wouldn’t say I feel punished,” he says it like it means nothing, like his feelings aren’t lingering right under the surface.
Thinking on it, you agree, “I don’t much either, I’ve been having quite a bit of fun actually,” you laugh lightly.
Gojo’s world stands still for a moment, he’s been growing addicted to how you smile, the sound of your laugh. He’s lucky for the blindfold because nearly every time he looks at you he has hearts in his eyes.
Noticing his silent staring, you grow shy, rubbing the back of your neck, “Sorry for falling asleep, it won’t happen again.”
He recovers quickly, “No it won’t… because next time, you’re going to go home to sleep properly before showing back up here.”
“Whatever you say, Gojo,” you play it off, not taking him seriously.
“Call me Satoru.”
You’re a little shocked, feeling like you misheard him, you clarify, “I’m sorry, what?”
He gets up from where he’s sitting, “We’ve known each other for years now, call me Satoru.”
You don’t know if you should, it feels weird, like letting him into your life more than he already is and that’s a little much for post nap you, “Maybe…”
He chuckles, “Don’t force yourself, just know, you can if you want to…”
You nod at him, suddenly feeling incredibly bashful.
⸝⸝⸝
You’re cleaning… why are you cleaning? Because you somehow got conned into having Gojo over. Its honestly impressive of him, you have no idea how he convinced you to let him into your home. You barely can even recall the conversation, something about movies, he’s somehow got your favourite movie before the DVD or streaming release.
Anyways, now you’re scrabbling around your meagre apartment, attempting to clean it up to a high standard before you have a guest over. You have time, you have enough time to clean the main areas, yourself, your bedroom… wait, your bedroom (?). Brushing off the thought, you continue your tirade, it ends with just enough time for you to make yourself look presentable.
Knocks in the form of a carefree tune are thumped into your door and you know who it is instantly, even his knocking is distinctly him. Tugging your shirt on, you call out, “Just a sec!”
Pausing in front of the door, you smooth yourself out, like you weren’t just running around like an insane person a few minutes ago, and then you open the door. The sight of Gojo is shocking, it wasn’t what you were expecting… you’ve seen him in casual clothes before, but you think you’ve gotten too used to seeing him at the school.
You mumble out, “You look nice.”
His eyes light up behind his glasses, “Why thank you, you look nice as well.” He speaks lowly on his way past you.
You stand stunned for a little, not expecting his compliment to affect you so much. He’s already walked down the hall while you stood staring at where he once was. Closing the door, you start after him, meeting him in the lounge room.
“You ready?” He asks.
You nod your head, waiting for him to show how he accrued the movie.
“Ta da!” He shows the usb stick, presumedly holding the movie.
You sigh at his jovial display of piracy and grab the thumb drive off him. Gojo makes himself comfortable on the couch while you plug it into the tv.
“You have a cute apartment,” he hums, looking around from where he’s sitting.
Grabbing the remote, you switch through the tv’s sources and search for the content on the stick, “Thank you… I think.”
“It’s a compliment,” he affirms.
You flop down next to him on the couch, “We good to start? Or do you have more to say?”
“I always have more to say,” he grins.
“I’ve noticed,” you snark back, beginning the movie anyways.
It starts off good, the movie’s quality isn’t great but it’s good enough to enjoy the content of the film. That is… until the halfway mark and then the quality drops significantly and you can’t even tell what’s happening on screen anymore, everything fuzzy and words mumbled, almost robotic.
You suppress a smile, “Gojo… where did you get the movie?”
“…Online somewhere… I watched the first few minutes and it looked fiiine,” he’s whinging slightly, disappointed in the sudden quality drop.
You can’t help but laugh at his complete dismay, “It’s fine, Gojo, at least I got to see some of it?” You try looking on the bright side, “You’ll just have to buy me a real copy when it comes out.”
“Is that another invitation?” He teases.
You look over to him, “Another? I barely remember giving out this one.”
“That hurts, you know?” He pouts at you.
You can’t help the way your face breaks out in a smile, “It is.” He looks at you confused, “An invitation,” you finish.
His pout breaks into a large smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you liked me.”
“Ah, you’re beginning to grow on me,” you torment lightly.
He nods his head solemnly, “Knew I would.”
You scoff at him, only now realising how close he’s gotten to you, your knees touching, his face so close to your own. You go to look away from him, feeling self-conscious, but his hand reaches up and pulls your face back to continue the intense eye contact.
“If I kiss you right now, will you try and punch me again?” He jokes, trying to relieve the tension.
You find a place inside you that outweighs your anxiety, “Only one way for you to find out.”
He leans in that tiny bit more and captures your lips in his, the kiss tender and gentle, he’s searching, learning. He doesn’t want to scare you away, wanting to kiss you for so long and not willing to ruin it by spooking you now. It took him so long just to work up the courage to get inside your apartment, he doesn’t want you to pull back when you’ve finally stepped towards him.
He parts first, hesitant, if he keeps kissing you, it won’t stay innocent because he really wants to kiss you until you cry.
You repress a whine at the loss of him, “Wait…” You trail off, embarrassed by how badly you want him to keep kissing you.
“Yeah?” He presses, wanting to hear you ask him for it.
“Can… you kiss me again,” you ask, before adding, “please?”
It’s too good to be true, he’s dreaming… but even if that’s the case, he’s sure as hell not wasting this moment, “Anything for you~”
Leaning back in, he kisses you with more fervour, his lips more insistent, desperate. His one hand stays on your face, angling you so he can kiss you deeper, he wants more, more. The other hand reaches for your hip, tugging and pulling at the fat there, groping your skin greedily.
Your moans and whimpers muffle into his mouth, he swallows them down, licking into your mouth, silently asking for more. Which, you give, you think you’d give him the world right now if you could. His kisses are dizzying and full. You’ve not been kissed like this… ever and it’s overwhelming you in an embarrassing way.
Pulling back, you rush out, “Wait wait…”
Gojo freaks a little, “Shit– sorry, was it too much?”
You shake your head, “No, well…maybe, I’ve just… never been kissed like that before, I was feeling dizzy.”
He breathes a sigh of relief before targeting you with a teasing smile, an evil glint in his eyes, “I’m kissing you dumb, huh?”
You feel hot, everywhere, “I–”
Your defence is cut off with this lips back on yours, he’s drunk on your kisses and he’s not going to stop. Knowing that he’s overwhelming you with them only spurs him on, he wants you to be so stupid because of his lips, he thinks he couldn’t want anything more than that right now.
Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer; he lets it happen and falls into you, pressing your back into the couch. On instinct, your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him down into you more, desiring the proximity. His front presses into yours and you both moan into each other.
He trails kisses from your lips to the side of your face, down to your neck, his teeth nipping lightly, sucking into your skin, leaving marks behind, not really caring about how you’ll struggle to cover them tomorrow. You gasp into him and raise your hips, grinding into him without meaning to. The friction has him groaning into the skin of your neck.
His large hand grabs at the thickest part of your thigh, grabbing and pulling your covered cunt closer to his clothed dick. His hips dig down into yours, humping into you and trying to fight off the urge to cum in his pants at the minimal amount of stimulation.
He huffs against your sensitive skin, “Bet you’re so fucking wet, fuck–”
“Gojo–”
He cuts you off, “­–Lemme… lemme touch you more, please.”
You nod at him, eyes glassy from how he kissed you, “Uh huh, do– do whatever you want~”
His hand is immediately leaving your thigh and reaching into the front of your pants, under your panties and through your dripping folds, a shiver running down his back as he groans deeply. He had a feeling you were wet but fuck– he wasn’t expecting this.
You sob a moan into the collar of his shirt where you’ve tucked your head, his fingers glide through your slick, teasing you, lightly grazing your clit.
His tone is light, “So eager~”
“Don’t t–tease, it’s unkind,” you try to chastise him.
He smiles at you, it’s dark but full, as a single finger probes at your entrance, slipping in carefully, aided fully by the amount of slick that gushes from your pussy, “So messy,” he hums, nosing the side of your face, giggling at the whimper you let out.
“Gojo–”
“–I think…” his finger slips to the hilt, pulling back before fucking back in, wet squelching sounding through your small apartment, “…I’ve earned Satoru, when I’m knuckles deep in your pretty, little cunt.”
If you thought you were hot before, you definitely were now, “Satoru, please.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” his cock jerks in his pants at the sound of you finally calling him by his name.
Your small gasps and sighs are setting his skin on fire, a light flush dusting his features, he still wants more from you, he wants to hear it all, he wants to feel it all, he wants to see it all. Deciding he’s had enough of your clothes, he slips his finger from deep in your cunt, which results in the prettiest, wrecked sound coming from you.
“Just a sec, need these off…” he tugs your pants down and off, leaving you in your panties, he hums in thought at you, “…These are cute,” he points out, looking at to the lacy garment decorating your lower half, “Expecting something to happen?”
You shake your head no, not loving the accusation that you planned this, “No, I just… didn’t have anything else…”
“Convenient,” he comments, taking notice of how completely ruined they are, wet from your arousal pooling in them. He pulls the side of them away from your skin, only to let it slap back against you, enjoying the way you squirm under him, “I think I’ll leave these on.”
He continues undressing you though, tugging off your shirt, your bra following along soon after. You feel so exposed compared to his fully dressed form. His cock strains against his pants though, sitting heavy against the zipper of his jeans. The sight makes you salivate but he takes no notice.
“I gotta get my mouth on you, pretty thing,” he murmurs more to himself than you, since you’re not really thinking at this point, only squirming under him and trying to rub your thighs together.
He shuffles down between your legs, spreading them apart further and tossing them over his shoulder. Drawing your panties to the side, he presses his face into your cunt, inhaling deeply, the act makes you jump and whinge out his name, shocked by the completely debauched display.
“Satoru~”
He doesn’t reply, not with words, he mumbles into your pussy and licks a long stipe from your hole to your clit before licking back down. His tongue pushing into your cunt with the desperation of a starved man. His nose presses against your clit and he moves his head side to side slightly, stimulating it.
You moan and whimper into the air, fingers finding purchase in his hair, needing something to tug onto while he eats you out in the messiest way possible. There is no finesse, he’s sloppily making out with your cunt, drinking down all the arousal that leaks from you eagerly.
Your thighs begin shaking beside his head and he holds you tighter, his head moving back and forth quickly, shaking it, trying to force your orgasm from you. The feeling of his blunt nails digging into your soft skin and the way he groans so unrestrained into your pussy has you cumming on his face very suddenly.
Your stomach twists as your cunt clenches around Gojo’s tongue, your mind lost in how good you feel. Not registering the sound of your moans or the sounds of his mouth lapping at you in the most lewd manner, it should be embarrassing how wet you are for him but you can’t seem to care when it feels this good.
He’s unrelenting, licking and mouthing at your sensitive pussy until you start twitching away from him and pulling on his hair harshly, wordlessly tell him it’s too much.
“Perfect,” he turns his face to the side and mumbles into your thigh, nipping at the skin, delighting in the way your body jerks, “Got an absolutely perfect cunt.” He says shamelessly.
“Gojo!”
He looks up at you through his lashes, “Ah, back to Gojo now?” he leans up and back onto his knees, tugging his shirt over his head and discarding it with the rest of your clothes, “No worries, I’ll fix that real soon.”
The sound of his belt clinking and zipper undoing brings you out of your thoughts, temporarily disarmed by the sudden exposure of his skin. He doesn’t bother taking them off completely, just shirking them down enough to free his painfully erect cock.
Your gaze gets lost in the sight of his dick, leaking thick globs of precum from the tip down his shaft. His hand tugging lazily at it, spreading his own mess everywhere, slicking it up for you. Wet sounds of his hand languidly fucking his cock makes your skin prick. How he’s going to fit you aren’t sure, the size of him is daunting.
He smiles when you look back in his eyes, “There she is.” He leans down over you, “I know I have a really nice dick but let’s try and stay focused, pretty, hmm?”
It’s condescending and egotistical of him to say but you can’t fight the shiver that runs down your spine at his words, “Gojo, you have a massive–”
“–Dick? Yeah I know,” he smiles cheekily at you.
You finish your previous interrupted statement, “I was gonna say ego.”
“Two things can be true at once,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You ready for this?”
“I don’t think I could ever be ready for this,” you retort.
“Way to boost a guys ego,” he chuckles at your comment.
You grab the side of his face, “Not that you need it.” You murmur before pulling him down for another kiss, missing the feel of his lips on yours.
He licks into your mouth straight away; you can taste yourself on his tongue. You feel like you could float away, not knowing how you’ve gone your whole life without being kissed like this. Your thighs are back on either side of his hips again, your need to be filled growing by the second.
Pulling back, he sits up so he can watch himself enter your tight pussy. He’s not denying himself this view, not when he’s imagined it so many times before. He rubs his cock through your folds a few times, relishing in your small jumps and moans. He needs it wet; it needs to be so fucking wet if he even dreams of fucking his cock all the way inside you.
“I’m gonna need you to relax for me and remember to breathe if you wanna take it all,” he says it so seriously, and if you hadn’t seen his dick you would’ve assumed he was just stroking his own ego for the sake of it.
You nod at him, “Got it, now please,” your hips wiggle slightly, enticing him.
“I got ya,” he smirks, pushing forward slightly.
The tip of him is a lot, your cunt stretching to take it, the ache dulled by the absolute messy state of your pussy and the thumb Gojo is pressing into your clit. He intakes a sharp breath at the snug fit of your cunt, his hips jerking forward mindlessly, a groan pulled from deep in him, while you whimper pathetically.
Your breath stutters and you’re struggling, grip on his cock impossibly tight, through gritted teeth, he reminds, “Hey, hey… breathe yeah? You gotta –fuck– you gotta breathe for me, pretty.”
Collecting yourself, you attempt to take deep breaths, they come out stuttered but the punishing grip you had on him eases, “Almost had me fucking cumming, geez…” he laughs lightly at it but he would’ve been beyond embarrassed if he came with only his tip inside of you, he’d never live it down.
“You can –hah– you can move,” you stammer out.
He double checks, “You sure?”
Your eyes are so wet and your voice is wrecked when you add, “Please.”
An evil smile takes its place on his face, “Why were you assigned to work with me?”
“Gojo, not now,” your words break off into a whine, you sound so pathetic, you do not have the upper hand here.
“Mmm? You want me to stuff you full? Tell me the reason,” he leans down slightly, cock slipping just that tiny bit more into you.
Ignoring him, your wrap your legs tighter around his waist and try fucking up onto him, it works for the one second that he lets it and then one of his large hands is reaching down and slamming your hips back into the couch cushions.
“Come on, pretty,” his breath wafts against the side of your face, his lips tickling your ear, “You really gonna waste time being stubborn?”
“You’re the stubborn one,” you argue.
He hums noncommittally, almost like you proved his point for him, “Come on, I can feel you fucking pulsing around me, just tell me what you did~”
“I– I… I didn’t listen to an order on a mission and almost got myself killed,” you pout out, breathing laboured.
He tsks at you, disapproving of your actions, “You really should be more careful,” he kisses beside your ear, “And listen to your seniors more.” It goes without saying that, that includes him. You suspect he’s mostly talking about himself; he has no respect for the current hierarchy.
“Gojo, you said you would–”
He tilts his head at you, “–I did but now knowing how reckless you were, I can’t help but want to punish you a bit more…”
Your waterline fills with tears at the frustration, your pussy fluttering on the barely two inches he has sat inside you, how he’s holding out so well you have no idea because you’re about to fucking cry.
Your voice is embarrassing to even your own ears, “Satoru, please, more.”
“Ah, well when you ask like that, how can I say no?” He’s acting as if he’s taking mercy on you and not like his dick didn’t twitch violently at you using his name again.
Slowly, he pushes into you, stopping every now and again to let you adjust and reminding you to just breathe through it. Something Gojo has realised is, your cunt is so reactive to him, the words he speaks, the hand he has on your hip, the kisses he presses into the side of your head, all of it has you spasming around him and every time you do, it feels like a gut punch to him.
It’s addictive and also world shattering, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to last when he actually starts fucking into you. The little noises you make don’t help either, how on earth is he meant to last more than a minute inside you?
Eventually, he bottoms out, the both of you moaning at the relief, your legs nearly kick at the sensation of how deep inside you he is, “Satoru, move?”
He bites out, “Give me a second.” He’s fighting the primal urge to cum inside you right now.
You whine under him, hips twitching, using the minimal amount of space to grind your pelvis into his. Your pussy stutters around him at the stimulation on your clit and he groans loudly at it, his orgasm on the tip of his tongue.
He forces your hips down and still again, pinning you to the couch with his own, “You’re so impatient. Do you want this to be over now? You want me to cum after only being fully inside you for a minute?”
You shake your head at him, the feral look in his eyes making your stomach do flips, your pussy gushing around him.
He laughs dryly, “Fuck, I can’t do a single thing without turning you on more, huh?”
You look away from him, embarrassment reaching a new pique with that comment, “Not nice, Satoru.”
“Not a bad thing, pretty,” he noses your cheek, realising how he said it harshly without meaning it that way, “Huge compliment, knowing you react this way to me is fucking perfect but it also has me on the edge of finishing prematurely.”
Turning your head back to him, you look him in the eyes and he swears he sees heaven because you have tears trailing down your cheeks and your eyes are blown and wet and he’s gonna finish if he keeps looking at you. So, instead, he leans in and kisses you deep, getting lost in the taste and feel of your mouth.
The small reprieve helps and he begins thrusting his hips back and forth, his cock leaving and entering you with the most obscene noises he’s ever heard. It’s such a fucking mess, leaking out of you, down your thighs and onto your nice couch. And even if he really tried, he couldn’t give a fuck, not when your cunt is so slick and warm and wrapping around him like it was made for him.
The sounds you let out are cute but muffled against his mouth, he settles for swallowing them down but he’d really rather hear them loud and clear. You flutter around him so beautifully, everything you do is perfect to him and you laying here while he shoves you full of his fat cock is no different.
He pulls away from your lips to hear the noises you make for him, “Cute,” he comments offhandedly, not even sure if you hear the contents of his words. He only knows you hear his voice because your cunt clenches down on him at the sound.
You cry out to him, “S’toru~”
“Ah, you’re so fucking close aren’t you,” the smile on his face is huge and wolfish, excited to feel you cum all over him, looking forward to literally nothing else.
You try to verbalise it, “I– mm –mmph–”
“Go on, let yourself gush all over me, wanna fucking feel it, pretty,” his words are sharp against your ear.
His hips increase their pace, slamming down into you more forcefully, his pelvis grinding into your clit harshly. Your eyes cross into the back of your head, neck lolling back bonelessly, choppy, whimpered sounds leave you. Your fingers claw at his biceps, leaving behind angry marks. Gojo’s hands have a death grip on your hips, bruised marks will definitely be left behind in their wake.
A particularly sharp thrust and loud whine from Gojo has you cumming under him, your pussy gripping him tight as your cum leaks from you sloppily, his cock coated in it. Creamy ring left at the base of his cock as he continues thrusting mercilessly.
His abs pull taut, his resolve finally breaking now that he’d finally felt you finish on him, “Where you want it?”
“Inside, please Satoru,” your words are mumbled and breathy.
“Fuuuuuck.”
He’s lucky you said that because your words have him cumming on the spot, thick ropes of his cum being forced deep inside your little cunt. It leaks out around the base of him, even as he presses deep into you, his pelvis tight against yours, riding out his high by grinding into you slightly. The stimulation making your cunt jump around him as he hisses at the slight overstimulation he’s forcing himself into.
You both huff, gasping greedily for air after your intense highs, the room filled with nothing but silence and your haste breaths. Eventually, you both even out and lay there quietly, Gojo pressed against you with his cock still snug inside your pussy.
“Gojo, you’re heavy,” you tell him.
He laughs, “Right, sorry.”
Leaning back, he slowly pulls his dick from you, both hissing at it. His eyes are fixated on the way his cum slips from your hole, his heart hammering in his chest at the sight, obsessing over how hot it is that you took so much of him. He slips your panties back into place, letting them keep his cum inside you.
“You did so good,” he praises you suddenly.
It makes you feel bashful, “So did you…” you mumble out.
A loud laugh results from him, “Thank you,” he says, his eyes crinkled in a large smile.
Gojo cleans the pair of you up, tucking you carefully into your bed and holding you close as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”
“Do you want me to be?” He questions lightly, trying not to expect anything from you.
“…Yes, I’d like it a lot if you stayed, I think.” You admit shyly.
“Then I’ll be here,” he presses himself into you closer, enjoying the warmth radiating off of you.
You don’t think this was in your job description…
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PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED
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ntaras · 7 months
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viewing mk12 bi-han as lucifer makes me less mad about the way he was portrayed
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jyoongim · 4 months
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Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,
After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!
But things arent how he left them…
Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media
Radio has turned to Video
And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do
Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.
Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?
You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.
Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do
But things from the good old days.
Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.
Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.
Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]
You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.
You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.
“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.
“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”
Vox was getting annoyed.
Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.
“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”
He was trying to butter you up.
Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.
Alastor loved to hear you sing.
“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.
You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.
“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.
You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.
To Alastor’s radio tower.
You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.
Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.
You turned on the radio and did a count set
“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.
As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.
“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”
You listened in
“I think it could be good to switch it up!”
“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”
“Y/n youre incredible!”
“Video kills the Radio star!”
You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded
“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”
Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor
“A-Alastor?”
His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”
You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.
You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”
Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it
“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”
You blushed.
Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight
“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”
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bigfatbimbo · 3 months
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new(ish) anon here. I’ve been lurking for a while but here’s my first prompt/request. sorry if you’ve already written something like this
vox would try so hard to come across as a dom. he’s the head of a voxtek and he has so much power over everyone, including people. so when he gets with you, he’d try so hard to show how dominant he is, only to come apart with each touch he receives. he’d keep losing control until he’s a pathetic, whimpering mess under you.
thank you -📺
a/n — I absolutely eat this idea up. Sometimes I just look at Vox and get this incredible desire to be cruel and terrible.
Also I took a lot of inspiration from that one anon who had a similar idea! Just basically turned it into a whole fic.
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At first you were okay with it, him having the power in the dynamic. It was an interesting change from usual so you decided to give it a try.
He was alright at first, even good at what he was doing. 
“That’s right, take it, slut,” He muttered harshly as he slid his dick into you.
However, it only took a couple thrusts before he started getting sloppy. You noticed his body start to shake above you, how his harsh words turned into quiet whimpers.
“Fuck, just like—nzz—just like that,“ he would try again, almost giving himself away when his voice cracked at the end.
“Everything ok, vox? You look a little—“ you gesture with your head as he sloppily thrusts into you, “—out of sorts.”
“No I— shut up,” he grunts and buffers slightly.
“Getting tired, already?” You tease as his hips begin moving more frantically. He squeezes his eyes shut as a high frequency starts coming from his head.
Your hands crept up his body and brush over his nipples. Then, finally, his body tenses and he lets out a disgusting, needy whine.
You don’t wait any longer. With on swift movement, you grab his hips and flip positions, leaving him underneath you.
“Hey! S—szz—stop that, you fucking slut i’m—“ he command comes off as more of a tantrum than a display of power.
You ride him so slowly it’s almost unbarable, he weakly attempts to thrust up into you. You shove back down forcefully and wrap your hand loosely around his neck, just strong enough to hold him in place.
“I’m obviously not the slut here, Vox,” You hiss down at him. 
He still squirms against you, “G—go faster, fuck,” he complained, his whines making him sound like an indignant child.
“Oh, I don’t think I will,” You hum against him, nails digging into his neck, “It’s embarrassingly clear you can’t handle calling the shots here, baby.”
“Nngh— bzz— yes I can I just—“ he whimpers uselessly, unable to think when you’re riding his dick so agonizingly slow. 
“Stop throwing a hissy fit and maybe i’ll speed up,” you say keeping your voice even. “Honestly, Vox, how did you ever expect to dominate me when you pout like a child when you don’t get your way?”
He whines and squirms below you, trying not to glitch out. 
“It’s honestly pathetic,” you laugh, speeding up a little bit when he refrains from arguing, “But, it is funny, how fast you fall apart.” 
He simply whimpers in response, screen lagging out almost as rapidly as his voice. He practically sinks into the mattress when you ride his dick faster. 
You start to hump him at a rapid, rough, pace, making his back arch him and his screen complete blank out for a couple seconds.
“You make it so much harder than it needs to be, Vox,” you grunt against him, “How hard is it to be good for me? Do you need to throw a fit every time?”
“Fuck— zzs—“ Vox cried out, trying not the thrust upward, trying to avoid anymore degrading words from you.
You were being so mean, and even though he knew it was his doing, he miserably craved validation from you after all of these harsh jeers.
Although it was getting harder to speak without incoherently glitching out, he tried his hardest to mutter out sorry excuses for apologies.
You took them into consideration and rode him faster, caressing his chest with your thumb. “I have to admit though, baby, you are so damn pretty when you’re like this.”
It was stupid, it was barely praise. And yet he grasped desperately at the strings of your approval. 
The frequency in his head got unbearably loud and he threw his hands to the stop of his screen and moaned loudly.
All of a sudden, your hips slowed to a stop, and you gazed down at him in disgust.
“Why’d you st—st—stop?” he whined up at you before realizing his mistake. He had came prematurely and without permission.
You grabbed his throat and he moaned, “Did I say you could do that, pretty boy?”
He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his screen blank out for a couple seconds.
“And to think you tried to hold any power over me,” you practically laugh, “You cant even control yourself, you stupid whore.”
He hiccuped and let out a low whimper, “‘m sorry, ‘m so s—szz—sorry, please,” he cried, “‘need praise, I cant—“
His voice glitches out and the power flashes. You start riding him again as you take his wrists and hold them down on either side of him, preventing him from touching you as he squirmed and writhed below you.
“Earn it.” 
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a/n — Maybe later tonight i’ll finally get out that one pegging Lucifer fic i’ve been teasing for the past four days but literally never finished.
The night is young!
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bas-writes · 5 months
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Neighboring Whispers
Character: Higuruma Hiromi Reader: female (cis) CW: explicit nsfw content, pre-relationship, neighbors next door, attraction at the first sight, mutual pinning, hair fetish, hair pulling, blowjob, fingers in mouth, spitting in mouth, praise kink & pet names (good girl and variations), fingering & vaginal sex, spanking, creampie, reader has long, non-curly hair and tattoos (yes, it's plot relevant) Word Count: 9k Synopsis: By a pressing accident you were left without water in your apartment, and you were forced to beg your neighbor, Higuruma, for letting you to take a shower in his bathroom. Dazed after a sleepless night, he obliged to your request. The consequences of his spontaneous decision had been haunting him ever since... A/N: little birds chirped @lale-txt wanted a sexy lawyer under her christmas tree and since we were already doing a server exchange... ;) merry a little late christmas, Lale, I hope you will enjoy this absolute monster of a one shot! ❤
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The first ring was like an irritating fly, bouncing off the walls of his exhausted concentration, its dull buzzing drilling into his ears.
The second jolted him from head to toes, the first move in a prominently long time, aching and tingling in stiff joints and drowsy muscles.
The third finally made him peel eyes off the screen, his sight blurry and invisible sand grazing under his eyelids. 
Higuruma hid face behind the soothing shadow of his hands, plastered tight to his skin, and groaned, almost cursed. He was tired, so deadly tired he would swore he could feel the dark circles under his eyes. The dizziness was comparable to one after an unsuccessful power nap—yet, he knew he wasn't asleep even for a second. He couldn't, not when at work, at that damned work he swore he would touch only for an hour, two at the absolute maximum, and then go to bed, to finally grab proper rest for the rare free day to come. 
For how long was he stuck by the kitchen table, the place he had chosen to avoid the focus? Higuruma feared to peel hands off his eyes, but he still did so. The light, sipping through wide open blinds, was already bright and dazzling. The microwave clock was even more merciless: it showed a few minutes past eight.
Fuck.
The fourth ring was the longest, desperate and inappropriate for such an early hour. Under other circumstances Higuruma wouldn't welcome the intruder with open arms but at that moment he felt somewhat grateful for snapping him out of trance. 
"Coming." He announced, more to himself than to the person behind the door. Legs bent and swayed under him at first, he had to lean against the table for a moment, cursing his workaholism and age, but he forced himself to stand straight, then to walk. By the time he reached the door he was almost back to state befitting a man in his thirties, not a senior he got turned into by a sleepless, work-full night.
Higuruma didn't look through the peephole first, just opened, catching you already turning back. A whirl of long hair caught his attention faster than your face, not that it helped him much when he finally met it with his exhausted—yet still attentive—gaze. He could roughly pinpoint it as familiar but couldn't bring any name nor other particularly useful information to it. 
He knew you lived on the same floor. He knew you were often doing groceries in the same shop as him. He knew you both were sometimes taking the same train in the morning—but he had never caught which was your stop.
That's all.
"How can I help you, miss—" Higuruma's voice faltered; he was still trying to squeeze your name out of his memory, but his focus was already taking a different direction. There was something eerie about you, something concerning not as a danger for him but as a sign something must had happened, to you or to the whole surrounding. He wouldn't put it past himself to miss an emergency; when he was working, he could have easily overlooked a whole apocalypse. 
You were a mess. Possibly worse than his own. Uncombed hair, falling over your shoulders in tangled strands, greasy face, visibly home-only oversized tracksuit, blowzily thrown over your shoulders, a tote bag, overfull, squeezed tight to your chest… He wasn't a detective, but he could easily tell you left your place in a hurry.
"Y/N." You relieved Higuruma of his main concern. "I live at number 33."
You took a sharp turn, nodding to your door, but Higuruma's eyes barely followed, yet again swallowed by the sheer waterfall of your hair. 
"Alright, this is gonna be…awkward." You took a deep breath, as if adding yourself power to wade through whatever pressed on your soul. "Please. I beg. I need a shower."
"Pardon?" Higuruma almost choked on breath, shocked less by the sudden request, just rapidly pulled out of chaotic thoughts buzzing at the back of his head. Thoughts full of your hair and its flow, the suffocating and entrancing vortex. 
"I have no water." You nearly sobbed. "There's a renovation up there, I forgot… The whole plumb line is turned off on my side. I don't know when— Fuck, I have a meeting in three hours. I don't have time to run to a bathhouse, even if they would let me in…"
He must have made an exceptionally stupid expression because you stumbled out of your panicked trance and hurried to explain what he hadn't even deemed as needing any explanation. Hugging the tote with one arm, you rolled the sleeve of the other and revealed a tattoo running up the forearm towards the elbow.
He nodded with understanding.
 "Please, sir, no one else answers the door…" Your gaze flicked at him with such pleading that his already crumbling resolve immediately backed off, leaving him unarmed against you and your illegally beautiful hair. "I'll pay for the—"
"I charge only for legal advice, shower is a free service." Higuruma tried to squeeze a joke out of himself but with his exhausted expression he could as well recite a random sentence out of the case he was chewing through for the whole night. "First door to the left. Ah, and sorry for the…mess."
It was a massive overestimation, he realized a few of your steps into his apartment too late. His place needed a thorough tidying like fresh water. It wasn't dirty, at least that—but everything screamed "single, overworked, and too done to bother" at anyone who paid a minimum of attention. Dust, empty mugs and beer cans, takeout boxes piled into a temporary dumpster, any flat surface littered with books, files, loose notes, newspapers… Hey, he wasn't that bad usually, but you caught him in the worst moment, right before the day booked for being a responsible adult
Hell, he should have at the very least do something about his bathroom before he let you in. But you pounced at the door faster than his thought and he had to chew on his shame with the noise of his own shower filling the awkward silence around him. 
When was the last time someone barged into his life like this? The last relationship Higuruma could call a serious one had lasted before he finished his apprenticeship. With time slipping through his hands and wallet filling with money he had eventually stopped inviting his flings to his place. And in the past few years he had extinguished even this fragile flame that kept pushing him into love hotels with equally tired participants of seminars, coworkers, and random lays he had stumbled upon in bars and never bothered to remember their names. 
He couldn't see nor hear you, nothing over the hum of water, and yet, your presence was mercilessly crawling under his skin. He felt your breath at the back of his neck as he was tidying the space around in hurry. Maybe it wouldn't have been so palpable if you were a man… But a woman in his kingdom of the mid-thirty loneliness? Something about this fact cut a good half on his year count—and not to his advantage. He never pegged himself as shy nor crude to be bothered by a fact of a woman simply existing in his proximity, but…
It had been long, too long. And you were exactly in his type.
Exhaustion played a huge role at that, he was sure of it. Exhaustion paired with neglected libido and long-forgotten fetish perking their traitorous heads up at the slightest trace of your presence. You dropped something and shivers ran up his spine so hard he almost dropped his laptop too. A faint smell of fruity cosmetics reached his nose, and he couldn't remember anymore where he should put the papers he held. The hum of the shower finally stilled, and panic bubbled under his skin, cutting him short on sight and breath for a split second—split but long enough to mess with his balance.
You caught him like this, still bent over the table, at first glance nonchalantly checking something on the phone, in fact—fighting for the last scrap of dignity left in him. 
Higuruma observed you with the corner of his eye, tense like a string. It was easier to look at you now, with your hair meticulously tucked under a towel tied around your head, so he took that risk. Little did it help. The sight of you casually standing in the middle of his apartment, bare feet, damp shirt plastered to your sides, churned his insides with yearning that had nothing to do with lewd ideas. 
Yes, it definitely had been too long since he was touched with this level of intimacy.
"Sorry for the mess," he repeated himself, his voice feeling dry at his throat. 
Your laughter suited the sharp yet sweet scent of your shower gel, filling his apartment for hours to come, "I won't look a gift shower in the plumbing. Thank you, mister—"
"Higuruma," he quickly cut in before awkwardness managed to drag you into his misery.
"Higuruma," you repeated, mimicking his accent almost to perfection. 
He loved the way his last name rolled on your tongue. He loved it so much he had to turn away for a moment and bite on his own. Thoughts dancing in his head pressed too much to his lips. But he wasn't that much of a creep to let them do as they please. Just the fact they existed was putting him into embarrassment. 
Did you notice? Most likely not, too busy balancing on one foot to pull a sock, then shoe, on the other. With a tote tugged under your armpit and in a hurry, you clearly struggled, but Higuruma didn't move from his place, mindful of his sins and the situation overall. If you needed help, you would ask, until then it would be better, if he kept this distance. 
"I know you said no money but any chance I could return a favor in any other way?" You pulled him instead into conversation, much to the panic of his tongue, tying into clumsy knots at the slightest thought of speaking.
"It's nothing." Higuruma let the dream scenario fly over his head. He wasn't sure if you were flirting or just hated the idea of being in debt and in front of uncertainty, he preferred to stand his stubborn ground.
"You let a stranger use your shower." You didn't give up. You had the ball and you insisted on rolling it despite hurry pressing at your back, it seemed.
"My impossibly cluttered shower." Years in court made him more patient than a saint, even in front of a person crumbling his resolve into dust with a single flick of eyelashes. "I'd feel bad if I asked for something in exchange for such conditions."
"And what about me? I already feel bad for cluttering your space with myself."
"If I ever find myself without water, I'll know where to go."
You rolled your eyes and laughed again, your voice sharper this time. Higuruma wasn't especially sensitive with sounds but the change of yours immediately caught his attention and craved itself into his memory.
Oh, it was bad.
Dumbfounded, he didn't react when you pounced towards his abandoned workplace and snatched a piece of paper and a pen.
"I don't have much time left so—" You scribbled fast, digging deep into the surface, and yet clear enough for him to read with ease. "I'm a regular here. Come anytime and tell them Y/N sent you. The lunch is on me."
If not for the paper on the table and scent you left all over the apartment, Higuruma would classify you as a fever dream of an all-nighter the moment you sprinted out, apologizing and saying goodbyes all at the same time. He followed almost blindly, ready to shut the door as soon as you crossed the threshold (and cut you out before any weird new thought would haunt him). He already planned to air the whole place and scrub the bathroom out of your presence
He would, no hesitation, return to his cozy loneliness if not for a draft finally crushing the fragile construction on top of your head. Cascade of hair tore the knot apart, the towel slid down your shoulders straight into his hand as he reached for it without thinking twice and before it managed to untangle fully from the wet strands. They brushed his fingers, for a split time he felt their soft texture and weight, and his heart throbbed so hard he lost a good ounce of breath right there, over the threshold. 
"Sorry and thank you! Take care, Higuruma!" The door of your apartment clicked closed before the echo of your voice disappeared. He stood there even longer, pulse beating in his ears like a drum and his cheeks burning. It felt like hours before he finally forced himself back into his place, barricaded into illusive safety, hand pressed tight to his face, to muffle a loud groan.
His skin was still slightly wet and smelled of your shampoo.
Oh, he was so done for.
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He should have trashed that note.
It glared at him right from where you had left it. Higuruma hadn't dared to move it any way, himself not sure why, but instead of blending into the environment, as he was hoping, it stood out like a huge, bloody stain of shame. A reminder of what he had been praying for to be just a dream born out of exhaustion and sleepless night.
He was doing his best to not look at it. It attracted his eyes like a magnet.
In no time he knew the name and address by heart. His excellent memory, so helpful in his career, became his curse. One look in note's direction and his mind was already mapping the route. Of course, it had to be conveniently located, in the area he knew well, relatively close to his workplace, in distance perfect for a lunch break.  
If only he trashed this piece of damned paper!
Maybe then his mind wouldn't be plagued with ideas and temptation. Maybe he wouldn't have to sneak in and out of his own apartment like a thief, jerking at the slightest sound behind his back. He was leaving earlier, returning later, changing routes and shopping in a different 7-Eleven. Everything to not run into you—just to return to your scent still somehow lingering in the air. 
Higuruma was ready to swear you had somehow cursed him. Was it humanly possible to influence his life with only showering in his bathroom? The sharp and fruity scent grew stronger near the cabin, shaped in his mind like a vortex of your hair. Warm water falling on his head felt like your laughter, droplets traced down his chest and stomach like signs you wrote on the note, elegant and pronounced. 
Your name tasted sweet and heavy on his tongue. Higuruma didn't dare to say it aloud, but it lingered, a sweet aftertaste of a candy he couldn't bring himself to ask for. He still tried to weigh it, right at the tip of his tongue, slick as a feel of your wet hair slipping through his fingertips. 
Only once, he tried to put it into life, but it barely danced at the edge of his teeth and died with a miserable groan as he couldn't hold himself back any longer and spent the rest of his morning shower on furiously fucking his fist.
He should have trashed— No, burnt this note and thrown the ashes in the wind.
By the time his legs finally carried him, still against his will, to the address, Higuruma had already abandoned the idea of avoiding the problem. He wasn't quite there with an ultimate decision, but the desperation reached the level where he had to simmer it down. Giving in to temptation of seeing you again was only a reasonable decision; with some luck he would not find you there and, with a now clean conscience, he would finally get rid of the paper of shame.
Seeing the signboard took him aback. Higuruma didn't ponder over the location to expect anything, but he still froze in place, hand clenched stupid at the handle as he took a step back to look at the name again. 
It sounded like one of those modern, instagram-catered places for a quick lunch in a break from rushing through the city. It was nowhere close to what, in fact, the place was: a cat cafe, in its whole camp and overfly fluffy glory. 
Higuruma looked at the signboard, then took a peek through the window again. A fat tabby cat, loafing on a table by the sill, peeked back at him and slowly blinked. He took it as an order.
One deeper breath later he finally entered. Right by the threshold he was attacked by the suffocating, sweet scent, dangerously reminding him of the cosmetics you used in his bathroom. Panic roared at the back of his head but before he could listen and withdraw, he grabbed eye contact with a barista who had perked her head over the coffee machine.
"Good afternoon, sir." She smiled at him, as full of enthusiasm as professionalism allowed. "A table in a regular room or in a cat—"
"I have received a capias issued for a certain gentleman I found resting in your property." He said dryly, maybe a little too much as the woman's friendly expression tensed into a mix of stress and confusion. "Just joking. I'm not arresting anyone. I had this place recommended by an acquaintance of mine."
When he said your name, she immediately smiled (not without a breath of relief, he noticed) and dropped the mask of a perfect employee. He was stared at curiously now, from the tips of leather shoes to neatly composed hairstyle. Oh, he definitely was the main subject of workplace gossip—and would jump back into fashion once he left this place, no doubt in this matter. 
"My apologies, sir, Y/N mentioned you would show up but hasn't notified us when." She flashed him with a genuine smile. "You're in luck, she's stopped for a lunch today, she's in the cat room right now. Shall I—"
"I'll find my way." Higuruma quickly cut in. He wouldn't mind adding spice to the gossip, even if just to ease his own stress, but…somehow, the thought of being observed during an inevitably awkward moment churned his stomach in a very not good way. "I would like—"
He studied the menu at the blackboard. Most of the names reminded him of absolutely nothing. "Something… decadent and viral, how kids call it. Surprise me, please."
"Would you like something to eat?"
"No, thank you."
He was ordered to strip from his jacket and scarf and asked to keep his briefcase as close as possible. Barista took her sweet time to study him as she walked him to the cat room, on her way explaining in detail what was allowed and what not. Higuruma let the words fly over his head: he had no interest in tormenting poor animals (who and for what would want to pull them by their tails?), but even if he had, his plans would be undeniably ruined by your presence. He already felt his throat clenching—not in fear or panic but in the same kind of embarrassment he felt whenever his thoughts about you slipped into the direction, he'd been avoiding at all costs. All of his thoughts were decent at that moment, yet he was tense and flushed regardless. Something, from the depths of his intuition, was whispering that, no matter what he does and says, he would reveal everything that happened, in his mind and not, since the day he had seen you barefoot and with wet hair in the middle of his apartment.
It would straight up make him come across as a creep.
He didn't want to come across as a creep.
"And no apprehensions." Barista finished her lecture with a smooth joke and pulled at the door to the cat paradise.
The main part of the cafe was calm—but the cat room was even calmer and silent, no music, none of the steady hum of working machines. It was almost empty too but a small group of teenage girls, flocking around the table by a huge cat tree, and you, of course, in a cozy corner, leaning over a book. Higuruma's heart almost flipped in his chest at the sight and fluttered just harder and faster when you pulled a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. The move was slow, smooth and so sensual one would think you were doing it deliberately. 
But you were lost in thought, unaware of your surroundings and Higuruma's gaze taking in the view voraciously, straight up swallowing every inch of yours. From your face, beautiful in your calm focus, to the tips of your fingers, still tangled in the strands behind your ear—and down your back, together with the flow of loosely tied hair. 
His mouth was dry and full of saliva at the same time. A smooth starter he had prepared in a case of wonderfully bad luck just died, leaving him with tight, uncomfortable silence and head empty of thoughts, full just of the feel of the same hair against his hand. 
He hoped too that seeing you in a more presentable state would crush the intimate, inappropriate for your level of familiarity, appearance of yours he had coded. And eventually relieve him of the yearning that had nothing and everything to do with sex, all at once.
Fool, idiot, a hundred times a naive kid. Seeing you like this only made everything worse.
"Y/N! Your neighbor with a sexy nose is finally here." The barista chirped over his shoulder and bolted before neither of you both could react.
If the block in his throat was difficult to swallow before, now Higuruma could as well just suffocate and die on point.
"Higuruma!" You tried to feign a cheerful attitude, but flustered expression and sudden flap of both hands betrayed you. One of them was still tangled in your hair; you yanked it free from the ponytail and sent your ornate hair clip flying. It fell right by his feet with a little metallic thud.
"You seem to lose your head at my sight." Higuruma saw the opportunity to avoid your gaze and snatched it so fast he almost hit his head against the table. "Or I should rather say: things from your head."
His hand trembled under the weight of the little trinket. It seemed alright except for three zirconias that fell out straight into his palm, "Towel at least took it better."
You muttered a simple thanks and took the hair clip before he climbed up from his knee. Your hands met for a split moment and a sharp shock snapped up and down Higuruma's spine. 
He hoped he managed to feign his calm better than you.
The silence that followed was heavy but not awkward for a change. Higuruma found himself a new excuse to look away, subtle and polite, just right to give you space for collecting thoughts: the decor of the cat room was truly entertaining to observe. Higuruma never had a cat; he was very pleased to notice that the furniture he took at first for clutter was in fact a developed playground. Little creatures, intrigued or concerned by the noise, moved from their spots. Shelves, ottomans and line bridges fluttered with elegant steps and soft tapping of little paws.
Even the fat tabby turned its head and gave Higuruma a look full of pity.
"It doesn't click right," you finally broke the much needed pause, pulling his attention back to you. "Oh well. I really liked it."
"It is a pity." He agreed, somehow keeping voice in check. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly screech at you. Fate knows how much his throat tried to, though. "It really suited your hair."
He didn't get a good look at it but after so many thoughts recalling your hair in detail, Higuruma could easily imagine it from every angle. His cheeks filled with traitorous, familiar heat. At least he wasn't prone to blushing.
By the gleam in your eyes, he could tell you were about to pick up the flirting, but you were interrupted by the barista. Looks were exchanged over his head, a slight tick at the corner of your lips betrayed their nature, but his attention was instead pulled by a piece of latte art put in front of him.
They really took his request to their hearts. Milk foam on top of his coffee was piled into a chubby cat face. They went as far as adding eyes, nose, whiskers and a little cunning smile. Three stripes at the top of its head must have been made with coffee as a paint. He had to admit the dedication to detail was truly endearing.
"Oh. That's surprising." You hummed, more to yourself, but continued louder prompted by his furrowing eyebrows. "You don't look like someone who would order a cute latte."
"Oh? And how do I look?"
"Black coffee. No sugar."
"I like it very sweet, actually." Higuruma finally felt more at ease, tension melting down his shoulders so visibly he could swear it was happening literally. "With a dash of milk."
The first few sentences were always the worst, in law and flirting alike. Once he got a good grip of the situation, he could finally focus on the exchange only. You were a cunning conversation partner, fast to catch his jokes, smooth to follow the thread and bounce the ball back at him. You had quite a gamut of shared topics and he just kept growing more interested—no, fascinated. 
Your mind and soul were fitting his type even more accurate than your appearance.
And yet, Higuruma's thoughts kept bouncing back to the fateful morning, to the perfection of your body in its messy glory. He couldn't help but to compare all the time. A strip of your tattoo peeked from under your sleeve—and he knew how far it, in fact, reached. A contour of your bra was visible under your shirt—in almost the same place where wet spots had pressed since you had dried yourself in a rush. Your hair fell smooth over your shoulders, in heavy strands he was dying for to caress—because he remembered the sensation of their ends touching his skin. 
Over and over again, his flesh was taking over his mind. And it was…infuriating.
When something touched his calf, Higuruma nearly jolted. He managed to forget a little how tense he still was, illusion destroyed fast by a friendly tail, wrapping around his leg. 
The indifferent stare and chunky posture were already familiar.
"Oh, someone likes you." You cooed with a bright smile. "It's rare for Haru to come to a new client."
"She's being picky?" The lawyer leaned down, let the curious cat sniff his fingers before he gently caressed its head.
"He. He's a little fussy diva. Wait, maybe I'll encourage him a little—" 
You leaned to the side and behind to reach for a toy, move quite fast, and your hair repeated the vortex he had seen even before he had taken a look at your face. The almost painful churning in Higuruma's stomach rushed dangerously low; he coughed into fist to give a reason for leaning forwards. Haru snapped his head back at the noise, but instead of running away he leaped into the lawyer's lap, fitting tight the space between his torso and thighs. And successfully hiding the area that could become problematic at any moment.
"Thanks, buddy," Higuruma whispered and scratched him behind the ear.
"He really likes you." You laughed, by no means offended for your sneaky plan to fail before it had started. "You're so natural with cats."
"It's only one of my talents." He flicked his gaze at you, his hand resting full on the cat's head, deliberately swept along the line of its spine. "Been always told I'm good with my hands."
The risk was exceptionally calculated, even for him. But it paid off with sparks of interest flickering in your eyes and fast, so easy to miss, bite at the side of your bottom lip.
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The note had been replaced by a hair clip.
Higuruma hadn't even thought twice when he had sprinted out of work straight to a jeweler. His mind and soul had been in a different place, entranced by your number freshly saved on his phone, and hadn't perked up even at the significant amount of money he had spent on a golden clip. 
The coincidence had been too good to be just a wink of fate: the design was almost identical to your old one.
Complications had appeared after he had come back and grabbed much deserved sleep. Fresh brain had pushed the old scruples back to the surface, and the would-be gift had ended on the kitchen table, leering at Higuruma as he was sneaking by, in shame and trying to look away.
Since the cat cafe date, you had met at least five times. All meetings had been rather non-committal and platonic, and the closest he got to fulfilling his fantasies had been a gentle kiss on his cheek he had earned after a movie. Yet, Higuruma knew there was a prominent spark of interest on your side. So far you had answered all of his advances with eagerness if not straight forward had been playing with him as if he was a cat on the other end of a teasing wand.
He was still feeling ashamed of himself but didn't intend to let such an opportunity slip through his hands. All he needed was that last step…but he couldn't quite grow spine to finally make it.
So the hair clip kept glaring at him, and he kept ignoring it, as much as he could at least before he was caving in to all those temptations leading him to late night shower fantasies.
By the time he heard you ringing to his door he even managed to forget about it a little. Well, he was deep in work again, his mind finally free of all red-hot thoughts and quandaries—until said sound pierced him like a stray bullet. He knew immediately it was you; he couldn't explain why and how but he knew. The rush of blood thudding in his ears for once had nothing to do with anxiety—this time it was a genuine excitement, hope even, if he dared to somewhat name the vortex of his thoughts. This was but just a little change; it meant nothing for heat building in his cheek nor for trembling of hands he barely tamed on his way to the door.
Before he opened, he had to take a deep, hopefully calming breath.
"This is gonna be awkward again." You admitted with a shy smile. "There's no heating at my place. And no warm water. "
Your appearance was a stunning middle ground between the scrupulously crafted look you donned for your little dates and the casual home-only mess Higuruma had learnt the day you got to talk for the first time. You were still dressed neatly but disarray had already sneaked with crumpled fabric, rolled up sleeves and the mess of your hair, barely tamed with a hair band. 
A loose strand fell out of it, and you tugged it behind your ear, with the same smooth, sensual move he had learnt by heart. Higuruma swallowed, a bit too audibly for his comfort.
"I can offer warm tea and warm company," he moved to the side and gestured towards the apartment. At least this time the mess was more tamed; since he had been caught red-handed, he paid more attention to the state of his surroundings. 
It couldn't possibly be a more obvious excuse, but Higuruma's thoughts were speeding too fast to do something more than taking a mental note. He intended to guide you towards the living room, but you took your guest rights to the fullest and chose a seat by the table in the kitchen from where you were piercing him with a curious gaze. In a calmer state Higuruma would pay more attention and take note how strategic your move was—but he was too busy masking his stress by preparing the tea and snacks. Before the doorbell, at least a shadow of the hair clip had existed at the back of his head. Now the whole trace was gone, replaced by all his dreams and worries packed into a single vortex of inner and somewhat controlled panic.
Why was he so nervous? He had no reason to delve into his thoughts anymore. All that was left was one of you finally tugging the rope to their side. You were right there, behind his back, twisting a strand of your hair around your finger, legs crossed just right to roll your dress up your thighs a little. Part of him was itching to turn and pull you into his arms, to bury his face into the back of your neck, to trace your tattoos and check how far they really reach. The other kept spraying the horny demon in him with cold water—and by far winning at that time.
If only you gave him a little more prominent sign…
"A hair clip?" As if reading his mind, you sprung forwards. "It looks like mine… Where did you get it?"
Higuruma almost dropped the cups with tea.
"Oh. That." He had never been blessed his experience with stress-taming than he did now. He needed only a single breath to look presentable again. "Well… Now it's my turn at the awkward merry-go-round. Was supposed to be a gift."
He set your cup in front of you, his hand almost free of trembling. Your gaze grazed over it for a second before it flicked back to the accessory, by "chance" placed right within your sight but out of reach, "Gift?"
"Replacement for the one I broke." Higuruma had no choice but to grab it himself and offer it to you on open palm. "I plead guilty and have already paid a fine."
You said nothing but he could read from your face his choice was simply perfect. You gently traced its edge, almost took it, but at the last time you withdrew, your eyes full of sultry gleam. "Thank you. It's so pretty. But you shouldn't have—"
"Oh, I should. And I loved it." Higuruma already knew where it was going. He felt sweat pearling at his temples, a single droplet traced down the side of his face. "It's but a pleasure to offer beautiful things to a beautiful woman."
You traced the clip again, with more prominent pressure this time, such a perfectly feigned hesitation. 
"Then…" Your gaze wandered up and locked with his. "Would you like to clip it in?"
Higuruma's knees nearly gave up under him when you, no longer waiting for his answer, let your hair flow free. With a single shake of your head, you spilled it all over your shoulders for him to gather it again, smile dancing at the corners of your lips a shameless proof you knew exactly what you were doing. 
Were his thoughts that obvious? Were his sinful dreams written all over his face? Was he being pulled into a trap from the very beginning? 
As if entranced, Higuruma approached you from behind. Even with explicit permission he was more than gentle when he caressed your hair from the crown of your head to its tips. It was smooth like velvet, far more than he had imagined it to be after the brief contact. 
The flame inside him churned and roared, pulse thudding in his ears muffled down all the other sounds. Hands shaking, he started gathering your hair to the back, into a single, thick thread he tried to hold firmly for the clip. He feared to tug too much; if he slipped once, he knew he wouldn't stop, the loose yet so heavy knot around his fingers just waiting to be tightened.
In the wildest fantasies flowing through his dreams Higuruma hadn't considered it to feel so good, almost too good to be real.
He couldn't hold it for longer, he let go, watched your hair spill again in awe, his throat dry and clenched. Threading fingers through it, he reached deeper, brushing at your scalp, and noting, pleased, a low, purr-like sound you made. Entrancing smoothness pulled him yet again, though, and he combed the strands to their tips, and returned to the crown of your head, over and over and one more time, and more—
"You don't have to be so gentle," you hummed, arching into his touch with no trace of shame. "I quite like it pulled."
Higuruma swallowed the hook together with the rod.
He gathered your hair into his fist, wrapped it around, and slowly—but with prominent power—pulled your head to the side, exposing your neck to himself. You mewled, following the move without further encouragement, giving him better access in the most arched, sweetest way possible. He leaned closer, his lips an inch away from your skin as he soaked in the familiar, sweet, intimate scent. The choice between possible routes was hard but eventually he settled on the most shameless one. He kissed your ear, brushed his lips right under it, and dived straight into the source of the fire burning him through all this time, through weeks that felt like ages. 
The softness of your hair was even more intoxicating when Higuruma felt it against his face. The first tasting nudge found your approval, so he went for a shaky, almost desperate breath of your scent, so rich and so throughout yours. It was a sin to abandon it, but he knew he had to discover more—or else the doors to the forbidden garden might push him away and shut closed. Shaking and almost sobbing in immense pleasure and happiness, the lawyer trailed his kisses back to your neck, then down to the curve of your shoulder until he felt the seam of your dress under his lips. 
"Hiromi…" You pleaded in whisper, for the first time calling him by his name. "Kiss me…"
Hand still tight in your hair, Higuruma tilted your head stronger to the side and leaned over your shoulder. Your noses brushed awkwardly before he finally found your lips. He expected it to be slow, just a little peck for a starter, but you apparently just waited for it. You grabbed him by the tie and pulled, your tongue slipping into his mouth without a warning nor hesitation. He let you take the lead at first but soon your advances weren't quite enough for his voracity, and he answered you with even greater eagerness.
It was his first kiss in so long and one of the very few so intense. You were barely stopping for a breath, one immediately pulling the other back when it halted. Higuruma's head was spinning, from lack of air and overflow of emotions. His heart was beating so fast that he danced on the line of fainting right in front of you, no wonder you guided him as you liked despite his hand clenched in your hair and kisses swallowing your breath.
You stood up and pushed him against the table, finally giving the both of you much deserved break and freeing each other of the tight clutch of your hands. 
"Lemme," you nipped at his ear shortly after. 
Gasping for air, Higuruma watched your advances with fascination. You unbuttoned his shirt with a casual knack and pawed at his hairy chest, trailing down the dark line towards the hem of his pants. Part of him was relieved to have his hard, almost painful, erection finally freed—the other dusted his cheeks with embarrassment. So fast and so easily… He wasn't a teenager anymore, his desperation was almost shameful.
Little did you care, almost shaking yourself when you fell to your knees and peeled his pants and underwear out of your way. You licked your lips at the sight of his hard, throbbing cock, and wrapped fingers around it. A few testing strokes later, you brushed a droplet of precum off his tip with a thumb, then leaned for a little, almost cute kiss.
"Shit…" Higuruma muttered through clenched teeth. For once forgetting about your hair, he held on to the table for his dear life and focused on not cumming right on spot. Unaware of his fight, you continued with teasing kisses and kitty licks towards the base. With the tip of your tongue teasing the sensitive skin of his balls you almost sent him flying; to stop orgasm from coming he bit his lip so hard he almost cut it to blood.
"So full…" You cooed, unawares of his struggle. Higuruma didn't dare to look at you—a futile effort as he could easily imagine what you were doing just by the feel of your lips and tongue at work.
"It's been… A while— Fuck!" As if it would help him if he held his breath and closed his eyes. Your mouth was so wet and hot and sucked him off with such fervor he was ready to beg you to slow down. It was illegal for a simple blowjob to feel so good; was it your skill or his desperation, all of it mixed with the tension building up relentlessly through the last few weeks—it didn't matter. Various thoughts were speeding through his mind, but he quite literally had no power to process them. 
Higuruma mewled your name, a pitiful whimpering sound that clenched his chest with almost painful embarrassment. He felt your approving hum vibrating around his cock as you slid him into your throat, until you reached a depth comfortable for you, and started bobbing your head along his length. His imagination reached its peak of capability, drowned into comfortable darkness he desperately tried to enforce on his poor, tortured brain. So slick and hot, so tight when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, balancing right on the thin line between ineffable pleasure and discomfort.
You were on a mission to suck him dry—and he had no power (nor desire) to oppose you.
Yet, with the tension relentlessly building and nearing its peak, Higuruma put every ounce of his might left and peeled one hand off the table to immediately tangle it in your hair. You chirped, pleased, around his cock, clearly expecting a pull towards—not backwards. Eyes wide open and dark with desire, you gazed at him with upper confusion. You didn't even close your lips, a string of saliva still connected them with the tip of his dick.
"N-not like that…" The lawyer managed to choke out between desperate draughts for air. "I want—"
Thank goodness you read his mind like an open book. Otherwise, he would stutter there to the kingdom come and back, like a dazed idiot he was.
"Bed?" You nuzzled your head into his palm. The temptation to pull grew stronger again, so strong that Higuruma's cock twitched just at the thought. He quickly withdrew, brushed his fingers down your face to wipe saliva off your lips and chin. At the desired level he hesitated—and brushed a little string of drool back into your mouth and deeper. If you were surprised, you hadn't showed it, instead opening wider for him and swirling your sinful tongue around his digits.
A wild idea crossed his mind, a kink he had tried with one of his past partners but hadn't quite brought it back until now as he was fucking your mouth with his fingers and staring at your drool pooling inside and dripping down your chin, first droplets falling on the front of your dress. He didn't dare to say it but a move, expression or the whole situation must have betrayed him yet again. 
You pierced him with an understanding gaze and nodded.
Higuruma slowly withdrew his fingers and grabbed your chin, soon tilting your head back. With his throat so dry it took him quite a moment to gather enough drool, but you waited oh so patiently, your eyes closed and your hair flowing down your head with the heave of your heavy breathing. 
He leaned down and let his spit slowly drip down from the tip of his tongue, straight into your wide open, waiting mouth. Your whole body trembled and a little mewl broke through your lips as you let it slide down your throat.
"Such a good girl…" The guttural, heavy with desire voice that got out of his throat surprised even him. "Swallowing everything for me…"
He did it two more times before he couldn't find more spit to share. Instead, he returned to torture you with his fingers, playing with your tongue and testing how far he can reach before you gag around them. With great pleasure he was surprised to not find this moment despite trying really hard.
"If you're gonna torture me like this—" You warned with an impish gleam in your eyes as soon as he gave you a break. "—I won't hold it for longer and make you cum with my mouth."
Higuruma leaned against the table and cooled his head down with a few deep breaths.
"Bed," he agreed with the unanswered question of yours and helped you get up.
Yet again you took the lead and straight up herded him to his bedroom. When and how you figured which was the right door, he had no idea, but he also didn't ponder over this fact too much, too busy with not tripping while kicking his pants out of the way. You both fumbled at the threshold, tangled in clothes you desperately tried to get rid of while kissing each other blindly, until the lawyer finally found an upper hand and pushed you inside and then on top of the bed. 
You started rolling the dress up, but Higuruma shoved your hand out of the way and reached beneath you for the zipper. It gave up so easily he worried for a moment he broke something, but you just graciously wiggled out, freeing your shoulders and breasts. The sight messed with his momentum, a heavy lump stuck at his throat, and he had to close eyes for a moment to not cum on the spot.
You finished rolling your dress down your hips and snapped your legs open with great impatience, "What, have you changed your mind?"
Higuruma cursed under breath, wiped his face with both hands—and immediately dove for it much like a bird of prey. Avoiding the temptation of your hair at all costs, he focused on your tattoos instead, tracing them with his tongue and kissing. He had no idea you had so many of them, in so many interesting places he was dying to explore and to cover with hungry hickeys. 
But he was also aware of the burning hard problem below his waist, so he didn't waste a droplet of time. He reached straight between your legs, hummed at the feel of soft bush brushing against his fingers and spread your labia open.
"So wet for me, baby girl?" He breathed against one of your nipples before sucking on it with fervor. 
A needy mewl was your answer as you bucked your hips, trying to steal friction from his palm. He didn't hesitate from giving you all you wanted, two fingers sliding into you at once. Just the squelching tight sensation was enough for a wave of pleasure to crush against him; with a whimper Higuruma thrusted dry against your side, staining your skin with precum.
"Fuck, you're so sexy…" His voice was breaking with desperation, but he kept a reasonable pace with stretching you. Your tightness was so hot and intoxicating, but he worried he could hurt you if he hurried the matters too much. If he made a mess and embarrassment out of himself because of it, he would take it, as long as you hadn't felt any unwanted pain. 
You read him right yet again and grabbed him by wrist, "I'm ready."
His next move hadn't met the same patience as you whined when he left you on the bed to look for condoms in the drawer.
"It's okay, I'm on pills." You pulled him back by the hem of his shirt and slid it away a moment later, leaving him completely naked. 
Clawing at his shoulders you kept nudging him until he was back in his place, teeth grazing at your neck. You fumbled in sheets warming each other up and experimenting for the last time before the main event, both of you growing impatient beyond tolerance. 
"How do you want it?" Higuruma rasped into your ear and bit at its shell. His cock throbbed with warning at the sweet mewl of yours; he knew he wouldn't last much longer if he kept edging himself.
"You can be rough," you whined without a hesitation as he pushed himself on top of you again. "I'll just tell you to stop, if needed. And hair—"
"Got you."
He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and gave you space to roll on your stomach and climb on your knees. He tried to not stare too much, just a glimpse of your ass arching for him, your hips swaying with invitation, put his blood pressure to alarming limits. Lining himself up at the best angle he could find, Higuruma kneeled between your legs and kneaded your cheeks. He loved how his fingers dipped into your soft flesh, but he didn't quite have enough time to appreciate everything you had to offer.
"Hair," you reminded him, looking over your shoulder at him with such heat in your eyes that a harsh shiver ran down his spine.
"I got you, my sweet girl." Higuruma leaned over your back and kissed the nape of your neck before taking a fist full of your hair. He hadn't pulled on it just yet, waited for the perfect moment when his cock slid into you and nestled comfy between your slick, tight walls.
He needed a break again, an inch away from an early finish. He kept the fire simmering by peppering you with bites and kisses, the grip on your hair kept satisfyingly strained until he felt he could move freely. 
A single deep and shaky breath later Higuruma finally rose straight to his knees, pulling you with himself until you arched your back and mewled. A tinge of pain was audible in your voice, but your cunt fluttered around his cock, and you hadn't said anything, so he followed with the plan, trusting your words from a moment earlier.
"F-fuck…" He muttered as he bottomed out, hips pressed flush to your ass. "Such a good girl you are…"
You stated your limits clearly, but Higuruma didn't want to test his luck. The grip on your hair was more than enough to satisfy his wilder side—and still he refrained from yanking your head too much. Just enough to have your back tense like a string as you were taking each one of his deep, desperate thrusts. More out of curiosity than anything he smacked your ass with a juicy slap, the sight of your body rippling from the impact so powerful he had to slow down and wait through another dangerous close call.
"Hi… ro…" You struggled to call for him, one hand clawing at sheets, the other between your legs as you played with your clit. He clenched his teeth and spanked you again. You responded with loud and enthusiastic moans, the best music he heard in a long, long while.
The finish was really close. Higuruma's hand clenched hard on your hip, maybe even bruising you in process, but then his focus narrowed to your union only and its unbearably hot, slick sensation that kept swallowing him. All he needed was your high first; he didn't want to go there without satisfying you at least this much. Your sweet sounds and trembling body were giving him good guidance—and he kept repeating what he was doing until the tight knot in your abdomen finally snapped and you spasmed in his hold, the tight clench of your pussy sparking friction almost too intense for him.
It didn't take long for him to finish too; a few erratic thrusts later he spilled his seed deep in you and collapsed on top of you, pressing you tight to the mattress.
Catching on breath, almost blind from exertion, Higuruma kissed your neck right under the hairline and buried his nose at the back of your head. You didn't make any sound under him, and he worried he might have pressed you too hard—but as soon as he shifted his weight to side, you budged and protested with a weak mewl.
"Stay." You reached behind and threaded fingers through his hair. He shivered under the gentle touch, almost literally melting when you kept scratching at his scalp and playing with his sweaty strands. 
"I'm staying," he promised and nuzzled close, flush against your back, cock still nestled deep in you. Frankly, even if he wanted, he didn't have much power left, just enough to roll to the side and collapse there for good. But he loved the intimacy of this moment even more than sex before, the warmth of your body, the rhythm of your pulse, the smell of your sweat covering your skin with a thin, sticky layer.
"Fuck, I think we need a shower." He mumbled to himself and chuckled, sure you had snoozed in his arms, but you answered the laughter and reached for his hand.
Higuruma gladly intertwined fingers with yours.
"I'd love to see your shower again." You kissed his knuckles, a smile pressed to your lips. 
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simpjaes · 3 months
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hon what abt hee/hoon/jay/jake/whoever u want reactions to u actually reach ur limit and say ur safe word during the very steamy and animalistic fuck
hyung line + reaching your limit and saying the safe word
warnings: dub con(ish), use of color coded safe words, rough sex, double penetration/anal, instances of bruises being visible on your skin, jake loses his damn mind, choking, squirting/mentions of piss, attempts at fisting and being sunghoon's size queen lmfao
not proof read
★ heeseung:
he would be so deep inside of you, plunging in faster and deeper than you ever thought possible based on your previous intimate moments with him.
nothing seems to have happened to render Heeseung so...into it tonight. Calling you up and practically demanding you be at his door within ten minutes or he's never going to talk to you again. You could tell he was looking at you through tunnel vision when you showed up with a concerned look on your face.
you felt like something was wrong originally, but when his hands immediately pulled you inside and practically tore your pants off of you, you figured he must've just been really, really, horny. So horny that he doesn't even get your shirt off of you before sliding in dry, whispering words that slicken you right up along with the painful intrusion.
he doesn't even get you out of the entrance either. your back is pressed to his chest as he holds you there, taking everything he can get before wrapping his arms around your neck and squeezing. You pull back against him, allowing him to maneuver you to the kitchen just to the side, and there, he doesn't release his grip.
you're tapping his arms, trying to breathe, scream, moan, and whimper all at the same time. he's lost his damn mind, you think.
and when he does finally release his arms around your neck, you want to moan, but instead, you say it. the one word he never expected to hear from you.
"red."
you felt three more powerful thrusts as you said the word, slapping your hand over your mouth because...did you really even want to say it at all?
and then he buries himself into you as deep as he can and leans forward, grabbing your hair and pulling you back so that his lips line up with your ear.
"what did you just say?"
and his hips would be still, all of his movement would come to a halt waiting for you to answer him. waiting for you to confirm the color he thinks he just heard, though it was hard to hear because his ears were ringing due to the sheer adrenaline he has right now.
"red. heeseung." you repeat, out of breath.
Only then does he calm his breathing, still remaining deep inside of you before that little switch in his head flips.
"did I hurt you?" He asks, voice raspy and concerned as he tunes in to his surroundings, noting how he just grabbed you and started using you as if you aren't a living being.
But then you shake your head, skewing your face half into his view with a smirk.
"No, i'd just like to know what's gotten into you."
ah, only you would stop mid-fucking for a goddamn conversation.
☆ jay:
jay always wants to try new things and you're always more than willing to indulge him in it. Hence why safe words have been a pretty common occurrence in your bedroom. rarely yet have you ever had to use even a yellow, better yet a red.
jay always commits green light acts on you, to the point you almost question if he could ever receive a red at all.
tonight tests that limit. the new thing he wants to try involves not only his cock, but a lovely silicone one he secretly bought on his way home. and what does he plan to do this both of these cocks?
use them on you. at the same time.
and, well, while you were actually quite excited to get your chance to try double penetration with your doting boyfriend, he seemed to have missed the look of concern on your face regarding the size of the toy compared to the size of him.
jay is already big. thick enough to make you feel as though the fit is tight regardless of how wet you get for him. this toy though? it's at least an inch longer, at least an inch thicker.
so, yes. you let the dreaded color slip just seconds after jay slides into you after much prep. at the moment, it doesn't feel like any amount of prep could have prepared you for the feeling of two rather large cocks sitting inside of you. The toy is prodded deep in your pussy, skewed only slightly by jay's strong hand as he holds it there with your legs gripping around his waist for dear life. And he is bottomed out into your ass, squeezing his eyes shut briefly himself at the grip and suffocating feeling of your body clenching around both him and the toy.
"relax baby," he whispers out, skewing the toy up just a bit before slipping it down and out of you for a brief instance of relief. "you're squeezing me so hard."
and you do try to relax, the moment where the toy leaves your body does allow a bit of relief to you until, well, he slides it back into you in one push, mumbling a groan at the feeling of it.
"red," you choke out, your body nearly forcing him and the toy out of you from the instinctual clenching.
Jay goes full-stop in that moment, not only slipping the toy back out of you but also making an attempt to slide himself out without causing any more discomfort but then...your legs squeeze him tighter, pushing him right back into place.
"just give me a bit to adjust--" you choke out again, "it's a lot to get used to."
★ jake:
when jake gets in those moods, you know it's near impossible to reach him through actions, better yet through words. he can get quite desperate, which normally isn't too much of an issue because you're the one needing to take control.
on a rare night though, jake wont give in and just...goes. anytime previous to this where you've had to use a safe word involved jake in this type of mindset.
what mindset is it without consistently needing to just say the word desperate? a state where he loses all ability to control just how hard or fast his hips move. some would call it being pussy drunk, though jake's version of it is far more insane than most. like a dog with a bone, he has his mind set on one thing, and that's his pleasure.
you knew it was going to be like this tonight, watching the way his apologies for going too hard and not yet stopping turn into forceful grips and thrusts of his cock into you. it felt like you were being, quite literally, impaled. A wince here, a wince there, and now? Consistent pain with his angled hips, ramming into you repeatedly with no apology in the air.
your loving, sweet, pretty-eyed boyfriend is so fucking gone, and at this point he hasn't quite comprehended or even processed you saying the safe word three times already.
The first time you said it was when he gripped one of your tits to the point it hurt, still ramming into you with a painful spike of pleasure. The second time was when his eyes went dull, and all apologies were left sitting in his sober mind, and then the third time, just now, you had to make an attempt to overpower your lustful boyfriend, gripping his hair as tightly as you can to pull him down to you.
"red."
you saw his eyes flicker in realization at the word, but he kept going upon feeling you clench around him. another thrust, and then another, and then-
"Jake, you're hurting me." You say this time, holding back any moan of pleasure simply because if he hears it, he genuinely may believe you're joking about the pain.
and really, it's not that you don't love when he gets like this. he always gives it to you good, but you can tell he's losing it and he's going to crash after he's done with you. hell, you're going to crash if the lightheaded fuzz in your head is anything to go by.
upon hearing those words from you though, his hips stop immediately and he returns back to himself. the apologies come back, the drool on his chin gets wiped by the back of his hand through insistent and genuine apologies.
he pulls out quickly, only then recognizing the welts and bursts of color against your skin from his fingertips alone.
and when he looks at your face with a drowsy smile but eyes full of concern, he can only apologize again. feeling sorry for himself in that moment and fighting back the frustration of losing an approaching orgasm, he does stop. and he doesn't get off that night solely because you cannot convince him that it's okay. that you're okay.
☆ sunghoon:
safe words are very common in the bedroom, though rarely used because both of you have a deep level of trust and commitment in your relationship. it's to the point that even when you do feel like you need to say the word, more often than not you're too busy trusting him to make the pain and discomfort worth it.
and, well, he always does.
there was the time where he nearly choked you out, allowing you to feel your first orgasm with near to no breath, to the point of almost passing out. sure, that would be considered a red for most people, but you knew sunghoon would never hurt you nor literally fucking kill you. there was another time where he really, really, really, wanted to try and get you to squirt. which, you know, that's great for you!!! aside from the fact that all day he had you drinking water bottle after water bottle, barring the bathroom from you until he knew you were ready to burst. the only reason you would have given him a red would be because your bladder was hurting by the time he started ramming into you, and mayyyybe because he didn't put a towel down and surely you were about to piss yourself for his pleasure. ultimately though, that pressure paired with the feeling of being stuffed even more full led you to an orgasm that you still think about to this day. today though, sunghoon is really on something. lately, he's been making comments. "size queen" this, "size queen" that. it appears your boyfriend is now seemingly fucking obsessed with seeing how much you can fit into your cunt. or, rather, how much he can fit into you. there was plenty of prep of course. His cock always a pleasure, and then his cock plus a few of his fingers, and then-- oh. just his fingers??? then-- knuckles. you feel knuckles.
"Woah, woah-" You pause at the feeling of being stretched, Sunghoon not stopping as you glance down at the way he is entirely focused on fitting his whole goddamn hand inside of you. "Sunghoon, red. red!" He stills his hand, leaving it in place and feeling your internal walls bunch his fingers up inside of you. Still, he can't push the knuckles past your hole and honestly, he's a bit shocked to hear the color code come out of you in a panic.
"Red?" He asks for confirmation, already preparing to pull his hand back and take care of you in a different way when you clench again.
"Red." You confirm, wiggling your hips away from him, forcing him to pull out of you.
"Was it too much?" He asks now, carefully crawling over you to plant a kiss to the tip of your nose. "I just wanted to see if it would fit." You nod, embarrassed by the fact that he was really close to making it fit. Unfortunately, it didn't quite feel good for you to have something so large inching inside of you so quickly. He was eager, you could tell, but just as apologetic.
"I think, maybe if you want to try this, we need to use more lube, and maybe buy some toys to train me into it."
"Train you into it?" He repeats your words, eyes darkening in an instant. You smile at his expression, seeing his new obsession run freely in his mind at the implication that maybe someday you can take more than just his fist without seeing red.
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sunkissed-zegras · 3 months
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐬) | nh¹³
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౨ৎ ─ summary | you and nico have only been dating for 6 months but both of you are convinced you've found the one, and a certain theory proves you right.
─ word count | 2k
─ warnings | mention of doubt in relationships (not you and nico's ofc) and slight angst when it comes to ex's, BUT OTHER THAN THAT, tooth-rotting fluff u might just get diabetes 🥹
─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke
─ ev's notes | i know this is SOOOO short but i still hope y'all enjoy! i love nico sm :( hes adorable :(((
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You and Nico had been dating for almost 6 months and it has been nothing less of perfection, you'd never thought you'd meet someone who fit every single one of your boxes. He was handsome, tall but also very sweet, empathetic and mature. Before Nico, you had only dated self-involved assholes who only cared about their wants and needs.
Now, with Nico, everything felt different. He listened to you attentively, remembered all the little details you shared, and always made an effort to understand your perspective. His presence was calming, always making sure you were okay and somehow always knowing if you weren't, even if you insisted you were. Everything with Nico was effortless, you didn't have to try - you just knew.
Despite the love that enveloped your relationship, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of doubt that occasionally crept into your mind. It wasn't about Nico himself - he was everything you had ever wanted and more - but rather a lingering fear that somehow, someday, it might all come crashing down. Maybe it was the scars left behind by past boyfriends, the ghost of heartbreaks past whispering cautionary tales in your ear. Or maybe it was simply the vulnerability that comes with opening your heart to another person so completely, knowing that the possibility of pain exists alongside the promise of love.
Yet, with each passing day, Nico continued to prove himself worthy of your trust, erasing any doubts with his unwavering love. He showed you, time and time again, that he was different; that he was here to stay.
"And then I looked inside of the car, and it was what looked like a sixteen year old." Nico shook his head as he bit into his sandwich. "A sixteen year old with a damn Porsche, can you believe it?"
You chuckled at Nico's story, shaking your head in disbelief. "A sixteen-year-old with a Porsche? That's insane. How did can they even afford it?"
Nico laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I have no idea. Must be nice to have such generous parents. My first car was my dad's old car, it was a really old Toyota Camry." Nico took a bite of sandwich before continuing, "I crashed it 3 times before getting my new car."
"Three times?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your surprise. "And you're still alive to tell the tale?"
Nico chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I wasn't the best driver back then. It's a miracle that Camry held up. I learned my lesson, though. Now I drive like a grandparent."
"Oh, I know." You teased as you finally got your sandwich from the waitress, smiling up at her. "Thank you."
"Can you imagine crashing a Porsche? Imagine how much you'd have to spend fixing it." Nico shook his head as he looked at you.
"Crashing a Porsche? I can't even imagine affording one in the first place, let alone fixing it after a crash. That's a whole different level of stress." You shook your head as you took a bite of your sandwich.
Nico chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly. I'd rather stick to my reliable car. Besides, I've grown attached to it over the years. It's got character."
"Oh no, they put tomatoes in my sandwich." You gagged as you put down your sandwich, sighing.
"Wait, you don't like tomatoes?" Nico looked back at you in disbelief. "How do you not like tomatoes?"
You made a face, scrunching up your nose at the offending tomato slice. "I've just never been a fan. The texture, the taste – it's just not my thing." You began taking the tomatoes out from the sandwich.
Nico laughed, reaching across the table to grab the tomato slice from your plate. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to love tomatoes. Problem solved." He winked, placing the tomato on his own plate.
You laughed along with Nico. "God, they're disgusting."
Nico smirked, his dimple showing as he held up the tomato slice like a trophy. "More for me, then. Tomatoes are so good, especially in a sandwich."
You shook your head, feigning disgust. As you watched him enjoy the tomato slice with happiness, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest. He was so cute. "Well, you can take all the tomatoes you want from me."
Nico grinned, "oh, I will. Don't you worry."
"Oh wait." You watched him eat the tomato. "This is the Olive Theory!"
"What the hell is the Olive Theory?" Nico looked confused as you smiled, excited. "Aren't we talking about tomatoes?" He smiled at your excitement.
You laughed, nodding eagerly. "Yes, yes, but bear with me. So, you know how in 'How I Met Your Mother,' Marshall and Lily have the Olive Theory?"
Nico furrowed his brow, trying to recall. "Vaguely. Something about olives?"
"Exactly!" you exclaimed, delighted that he was playing along. "So, the theory goes that Marshall hates olives, but Lily loves them. Whenever they order food, Marshall always gives his olives to Lily, and it's this little gesture of love and compatibility. The idea is that if one person hates olives and the other loves them, it's a sign of compatibility because it means you complement each other."
Nico's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ohh, I see where you're going with this. So, you hate tomatoes, but I love them. And I happily take them from you. It's like our own little Olive Theory."
"Exactly!" you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection for him.
Nico couldn't help but smile at you. You were so cute, he couldn't help but laugh at how excited you got. Nico's laughter filled the air, his smile reflecting the warmth in his heart. "You're adorable, you know that?"
You felt a rush of warmth at his words, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Well, I learned from the best," you teased, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Nico reached across the table, his hand finding yours as he squeezed it gently. "I mean it though, you're amazing. You're adorable when you get all excited about these little things, even if I don't understand half of the references you make."
You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "Well, that just means we have more opportunities for you to learn and for me to share all my references with you."
Nico's eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze. "Yeah and then I can teach you about hockey, it's perfect."
You smiled at Nico's suggestion. "I'd love that! Hockey lessons from the expert himself. Now people won't call me a puck bunny."
Nico grinned, his enthusiasm contagious. "You'll be a pro in no time. Maybe you could even join the team, who knows?"
"Maybe I'll even be captain."
Nico shook his head, "Nah that's kind of my job."
You laughed as you gazed at your boyfriend, a warm smile playing on your face. "Alright, Captain, I'll let you keep the title. But maybe I can be the team's official cheerleader?"
"Well you're already my cheerleader so that wouldn't work very well, would it?" Nico shrugged as you laughed and shook your head.
You couldn't help but laugh at Nico's response. "I guess you're right. Can't double up on roles, can we?"
Nico smirked, "No can do, princess. You're my lucky charm not the team's."
You nodded your head in faux understanding as you played along with Nico's words. "Right, right. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Good cus I need my good luck charm." Nico smiled, his eyes warm with affection as he squeezed your hand once again.
"And you'll always be mine." You replied, his words filled you with a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you squeezed his hand gently in return. As you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that no matter what happens, one thing remained: your love and support.
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-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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nariism · 6 months
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across the violet sky — lyney
"you look beautiful in the moonlight."
synopsis. all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...
wc. ~1.5k
— for @rintosei smooch 🫶🫶 | event masterlist ✉️
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"You did what?"
Lyney flinches at his twin's harsh tone, the words seething out through her grit teeth. He pauses in his rummaging, deflating with his hands hovering over the open box.
You had originally agreed on helping them set up for their next show, even going so far as to personally arrange for all the props to be transported to the Opera Epiclese. But you're nowhere to be found now, leaving the magician sweating under the cold gaze of his dear sister.
"Lyney—" She sighs, fingers pinching at the bridge of her nose. And he knows he's messed up big time to elicit such a powerful emotion from her. "How could you do that? Y/N has been nothing but amazing in helping us through all of this."
It was true that you had been supportive to a fault ever since you first stumbled into a performance way back when. Since then, you'd always looked at the pair with stars in your eyes, perhaps hoping that one day your beloved would pull you onto the stage despite his repeated worries about props misfiring or sabotage.
He had never worried about that sort of thing until he was framed. He'd be damned if you were to be injured during one of his shows.
So he banished you to the audience, swore to himself that he would never endanger you by pulling you into the spotlight of the stage. And he upheld that promise to himself, until you finally broke him down with such honeyed smiles and even sweeter words.
Because he was weak when it came to those he loved, he caved in just to see the joy shining in your eyes. He didn't have time to regret his decision—not when you were already leaping into his arms with a chanting prayer of thanks on your tongue.
And now...
"I know, I know..." he huffs in frustration, resuming in busying his hands with the contents of the box. "But what was I supposed to do? I owed Father's friends a huge favour and this—"
"Are you really choosing Father's approval over your relationship?"
He stops again, eyes cast solely on the props in his hands. One of the associates of the House demanded that his child be put into the show as an assistant. You were visibly hurt when he had informed you of the last minute change, and hadn't heard from you since.
While he would have normally chased after you in such a moment, he was too preoccupied with preparing everything for the changes made to the performance to worry about where you'd gone or the extent of how upset you were.
"What would you have me do?"
Lynette saunters over to her brother's side, crouching down beside him. Her hand gently guides his own down to place the props back into their spots.
"Making sure they're okay would be a good place to start."
The magician makes a face, lip jutted out in a half-pout as he considers it. Yes, he would be distracted if you were on his mind this way after all. It would be better to clear the air before the show started. His sister was always the more level-headed of the two of them—the soft yet stern voice of reason when he was being careless.
"You're right," he concedes. Lynette was always right.
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He doesn't find you at your home.
After knocking at the front door until his knuckles hurt, he deems that you must not be here. Clutching the bouquet of Rainbow Roses carefully to his chest, he makes his way to his next destination: the Fountain of Lucine.
With nearly everyone tucking away for the night, there's hardly a peep in the plaza. He approaches slowly, watching your figure come into focus.
Ah, of course you'd be here. You always came here when you needed to think.
There were a thousand things he wanted to tell you. He'd practiced on the way here: how to apologize, how to grovel for forgiveness even though you were so kind that he was sure you'd accept it in a heartbeat.
Still, you were the love of his life. He seldom expressed his vulnerability to you, but he truly did feel horrible for bailing you out of the show last minute—especially when you seemed so excited to finally be a part of it.
"Sweetest," he calls you. You don't respond, instead opting to quietly swish your bare feet around in the shallows of the fountain. His heart plummets at your lack of interest, so he takes a cautious step forward. "It's late. You'll catch a cold sitting out here."
Again, you're silent. He swallows, trying to think of a way to get you to even look his way.
Lyney has always been good with words—talented at misdirection and deceit. But he has no reason to be like that with you, to be dishonest or closed off or misleading. It leaves him tripping over his own tongue.
He loves you with all his heart, yet he doesn't even know how to talk to you without making a fool of himself.
His whole life has been about buttering up an audience, making a spectacle of words and dance and magic. But you're real. How does he handle that?
Slowly, he sheds his coat before draping it over your shoulders. He sits beside you facing away from the running water, the paper holding his beautiful bouquet together rustling with each movement.
The noise makes you look his way, eyes curious as ever. It was what he adored so much about you.
For a second, he sees the undeniable softening of your expression—a small but unmistakable smile gracing your face before it vanishes again.
"You'll catch a cold," you scold.
"That's okay."
Your gaze flickers between his eyes and his lips. He can feel the heavy tension melting away with every shameless glance up and down, smugness firing through his veins when he realizes you've missed him despite your avoidance.
"I'm sorry I made such a big deal about all this," you whisper, tearing your attention back to the way the water ripples with each movement.
Lyney reaches over quickly, hand swiftly turning you to look at him again by the cheek. "Don't apologize," he argues. "I was being stupid."
You nod, mouth opening then closing as you wait for him to continue.
He doesn't. He can't.
The whole walk here he had planned out exactly what he wanted to say, all the ways he wanted to tell you that he only gets so protective because his work can be dangerous. There were a million ways he planned to apologize, a dozen scenarios where he imagined you would walk out of his life for being so careless with your feelings.
But all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...
"You look so beautiful in the moonlight."
You blink at him in surprise, instinctively burying your face into the warmth of his palm as you lean forward. There's a knowing in the way you look at him, as if able to read the words in his heart that he can't seem to get out.
"You're not trying to butter me up, are you?" You ask teasingly, an attempt to relieve his racing mind.
"Just being honest," he laughs. Another silence fills the air before he continues, "I'm really sorry. Next time, I promise to drag you onto the stage with me."
You stifle a giggle, pulling away to watch your feet prod at the surface of the water. "It's alright. I know I'm not exactly cut out to be a star."
The magician shuffles closer to you until your shoulders are bumping, then he places the bouquet of Rainbow Roses in your lap.
"You are a star," he mumbles. "The brightest star in the sky."
Dancing in the moonlight, bathing in it so beautifully. Lynette would hurl at him admitting something so corny, though.
"Really?" You ask with a laugh in your breath.
"Really really."
You hum softly, hand settling over his. Your bodies are turned opposite ways but he can imagine the smile spreading across your face, the warmth of it. You were always poor at hiding when he flustered you.
The soft sound of streaming water fills the comfortable silence. It's a stark contrast to the applause he's grown so accustomed to but he would choose this a million times over.
Your hand squeezes his. He realizes, then—you're a star no matter which spotlight you're under, whether it be under the weight of a thousand eyes or just for him under the quiet moon.
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("Stop gagging! It wasn't that cheesy!"
"A star?" Lynette pales further, placing her head into her hands. "A... A star?"
"Oh, quit with the dramatics already!"
"I have a lovesick idiot for a brother... I'm going to throw up."
"Lynette!")
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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moominsuki · 1 year
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✎ᝰ. REMEMBER THOSE TIMES WHEN YOU WERE LAUGHING, AND NAKED ON MY COUCH ; — silly sex tropes with the boku no hero academia boys.
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FEATURING: bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shoto + kirishima eijirou.
࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, all characters aged up 20+, suggestive, sex talk but silly all around, crack lowkey. / note. this was fun to write. pls take this as a bit of filler while i finish up my super mega bkg fic. loves ya!
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✎𓂃BAKUGOU KATSUKI。°˖⌕
it was a rare occasion for bakugou to actually want to show up to a hero gala - when you usually caught wind of any formal event, your blond haired man would vehemently oppose going, opting to stay at home and order some food instead. you couldn’t place what spurned bakugou’s sudden interest in attending the annual convention but as you get into your car, all dressed up and ready to go, you understand why.
“come on, they’re not gonna care if we’re a few minutes late,” pleads bakugou when you arrive at your seats, pressing displaced kisses on your done up face and swat him away slightly.
you whine at him to behave, grabbing at the hand groping at your thighs, your breasts, anywhere he can put his big hands on and you always resort to placing his hands back into the culprit’s lap.
unfortunately for you, bakugou knows how easily turned to mush you are by sweet nothings and fondling because it only takes you 8 minutes for you to cave in, inconspicuously meeting your husband at the rendezvous point. it then takes another 5 for bakugou to have your chest pressed against the mirror, lifting up your gown to touch at your most intimate parts.
“tell me how badly you want it,” he grunts, pulling down his own slacks while you grind your ass and whimper at him.
“be a good girl and take it,” bakugou breathes out gruffly, desire running through his voice and he’s just about to dip inside you-
“i’ve been holding my damn piss in all day - what the fuck? bakugou?!” yells out kaminari and bakugou practically launches himself at the cubicle door to throw the yellow blond out while you’re scrambling to cover up your indecency.
with kaminari sporting a fresh bruise on his jaw as a shameful reminder, you and bakugou vow to never get down and dirty in public spaces. bakugou still adamantly swears to this day that the door was locked.
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✎𓂃MIDORIYA IZUKU。°˖⌕
you roll your eyes when you hear another pitiful groan come out of izuku, who’s sprawled out on the couch with a bandaged leg propped up on multiple pillows. he has been out of action with a broken leg for a few weeks now due to an unprecedented villain attack at the agency. it’s rendered him useless, and quite frankly bored and horny out of his mind.
that being said, you outright refuse to have sex with izuku now that he has a broken leg but it hasn’t stopped him from pleading with his big green eyes, pink lips pouting as he guilt trips you from across the house.
“please, y/n, you can just sit on it. i won’t even move a bit. you look so pretty, baby,” izuku whines as you rub lotion into his hands and arms. and what kind of girlfriend would you be to deny him in his time of recovery.
it’s rushed the way that you’re both still half clothed; already grinding on his cock and you’re doing everything in your power to make sure you don’t rest even a little bit of weight on his leg. izuku has never been good at preventing the buck of hips when you clench down on him and today is no different.
he starts subconsciously rutting into you - as he does when his orgasm starts to creep up on him - and one tight clench of your walls forces his lower body to jolt and practically throw you on to his right leg… i.e. the leg that is currently out of action.
a howl of pain emits from your boyfriend and you frantically run to your phone to call the physiotherapist, butt jiggling on the way and izuku doesn’t know what hurts more: his leg or the blue balled dick.
the next time you have sex isn’t until the cast finally comes off and no matter how many puppy dog eyes the man lays on you, you stay resolute on the decision. you even so kindly send him some nudes so he finds solace in his left hand instead of you.
izuku vows to never get another injury again; though his incentives might be slightly skewed.
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✎𓂃TODOROKI SHOTO。°˖⌕
it is never a smart idea to have sex in your partner’s childhood home. it’s one thing to fuck in their bedroom; but it’s a whole other bridge to cross when it’s in their parents’ bedroom.
that being said, todoroki hates needlessly having to go to his childhood home. however, fuyumi is out of town for work; being that none of his siblings except for him could house sit and that shoto has a soft spot for his older sister, he decided to just suck it up.
luckily for him, you offer to keep him company for the next few days at his childhood home and shoto would never pass up an offer for the chance to be alone with you - considering both your inflexible work schedules and the fact that you both have roommates, shoto knew this would be a once in an annual experience.
so it was inevitable, really, that shoto would come home from a long day of patrolling and to see you donned in sexy, red lingerie, strolling up to him with your manicured hands placed delicately on his chest. and, being the succubus that you are, you both decided to do the deed in the nicest bedroom in todoroki estate: his father’s bedroom.
with every flex of his hips, shoto has you and the bed nearly folded into one being - you're moaning, begging for him to go faster as you grapple pathetically onto his shoulders while he grunts, grabbing the headboard to speed up his movements.
“that's it, pretty girl, just like that,” shoto groans, lifting your thigh to place it on his shoulder and this new position means that you feel it so much more; but it also means that the legs of the bed start scraping on the hardwood floor... and has the headboard always been so creaky?
you get your answer when a snap! releases above your head and you're about to look up when the middle of the bed caves in with a pitiful oomphh. at this point, the duochrome haired man is still snug inside you and he quickly wraps a hand behind your head to cushion the fall. the silence is ridiculously loud until you both look at each other and burst out laughing.
“my dad is going to kill me,” shoto sighs into your neck and you comfort him with a few soft touches to the nape of his head.
naturally, the pair of you continue your romp in other places of the todoroki home and by the time fuyumi comes back, she's met with a raging enji todoroki holding a sketchy, sprawled out note of:
“sorry >:] - shoto.”
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✎𓂃KIRISHIMA EIJIROU。°˖⌕
kirishima regards himself as someone with high restraint and while that does dwindle when he's around you, he's still able to control himself, despite the lust-filled glances and borderline sexual touches you throw at him.
today is not one of those times.
he’s already very pent up, extremely touch starved from this three week long mission away from you. yeah, they bagged the villain, as to he expected. but at what cost? he’s found company in two pillows and pictures of you in the meantime but they do little to quell his thirst for you.
it’s around 5am when you pick him up from the airport and even though you’re both tired as hell - kirishima being jet lagged and you not being used to waking up at these ungodly hours, - the way you touch him is not that of an exhausted woman. and given the days, weeks he’s had, who was he to deny you?
throwing his suitcases haphazardly in the trunk of his your car, nary a word is said as he throws you on to his lap in the backseat, touching and fondling every bit of you to relieve himself. the red head is rockhard in mere minutes (no pun intended) and the two of you don’t even bother to partake in foreplay, both pent up from the time apart.
kirishima grunts into your neck, the back of your thighs sat in his wide palms as he hammers into you, “missed this pussy so damn m-much, fuck.” it’s desperate and the windows start fogging as an effect of the rushed ministrations but you can’t find it in yourselves to care much.
kirishima lets go of one of your thighs to hoist it around his hips, opting to place a palm on the window and unknowingly leaving a incriminating handprint.
it was just his luck that the paparazzi caught wind of the heroes that would be leaving this airport, camping outside of the building all morning. it was just their luck that they recognised red riot’s car sat idol in the parking lot. with their cameras set to burst multiple frames a second, they make a beeline to the car… and upon further inspection, they notice the car shaking slightly, as if there were somebody inside.
it’s a shame that all the paps didn’t exactly get the memo of what was going on, with a bright faced obvious newbie giddily taking a photo, flash and sound click on at full blast.
the shaking stops and muffled shuffling ensues. the group of shutterbugs are mortified to see a ragged kirishima exit the car, brows furrowed and lips pursed.
the paps didn’t really lose much out of this equation, though: who even needs those photos when a hefty check was on offer instead?
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࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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nunalastor · 24 days
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Alastor getting kidnapped eventually becomes a running joke in the hotel. First time it happened, there was plenty of panic. Even Lucifer, who didn't care much at all for the Overlord at that point in time, couldn't help but worry about whatever torture Alastor's captors must be subjecting him to. Charlie was so broken over Sir Pentious's loss, she can't go through that again. Only Husk is unconcerned, rolling his eyes at everyone's antics.
Finally they're able to track down the kidnapper and make a plan to rescue him. Charlie's got her shield, Vaggie her angelic spear, Niffty's cackling and clutching her dagger. Angel's packing heat, Lucifer's ready to start incinerating things. And Husk, well, he's there. Rolling his eyes still.
They make it as far as the front door when a mass of black tentacles shoots out, smacking Lucifer to the ground. It's more shock than anything that keeps Lucifer from breaking free, and out strides Alastor, dripping with blood and appearing equally surprised to see Lucifer and everyone else. He cheerily laughs off everyone's concerns and suggests they all head back to the hotel for a well-deserved meal after a frankly exhausting day.
It's on the way back that Husk explains; Alastor gets kidnapped all the damn time. He lets it happen. It's like a game to him. If he were in genuine trouble he could have summoned Husk and Niffty at any time but he never does because he's more than capable of dealing with just about anyone who's stupid enough even to try taking him against his will. Angel Dust asks why Niffty looked so worried then and Husk just shrugs and says she always is, no matter how many times Alastor proves he doesn't need it.
There's still some worrying the next few times Alastor is kidnapped, and although she doesn't rally the whole crew for a rescue, Charlie still tracks down Alastor's kidnappers each time, just in case. But over time it becomes an ongoing joke, and Angel Dust suggests that it's probably also a form of stress relief for Alastor, since it affords him an opportunity to go all out with his powers against opponents who instigate fights away from the hotel. Added bonus: Alastor nearly always cooks when he comes back.
NORMAL MEAT! He's just in a good mood after slaughtering and so feels up to cooking for everyone!
Bonus RadioApple: No matter how many times he proves he doesn't need a rescue, however, Lucifer always goes, even long after Charlie's stopped. Because unlike the others, he's aware of the fact that Alastor's injured - Alastor refused to let Lucifer heal the wound, and short of holding Alastor down and forcing his healing on him, there's nothing Lucifer can do to change his mind - and he knows Alastor's putting on a strong front for the others. When Alastor asks why Lucifer even bothers at this point when Alastor's already shown he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself, Lucifer just shrugs and says that he doesn't want the one time he doesn't show up to turn out to be the one time he ends up being needed. He's gotten used to Alastor's presence in the hotel at this point. He'd be... bothered if Alastor didn't come back.
Alastor's not quite sure what to say to this, other than he's grown 'used to' Lucifer's presence as well.
👀
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Text
Used (Billy Butcher)
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Description: Billy decides to use Y/N to get what he wants but it backfires when he falls in love with her.
Warning: Smut
Word Count: 4,051k
She sighed, completely nervous as she walked down the aisle to her future husband. The wedding wasn’t crazy big but had all their friends and some family. MM walked her down the aisle since she refused to even speak to her parents since she found out they let Vought inject her with compound V. Her dress was dragging behind her as she looked forward to see Billy. He looked so handsome in his tux and he was staring at her in awe. She looked so beautiful. She got up the stairs and they both faced the priest. Billy thought he couldn’t be anymore lucky than what he was right now. Except this wasn’t supposed to happen. 
Billy wasn’t a soft spoken man by any means. He could get aggressive and bossy especially when it came down to Vought stuff. He wanted one thing and one thing only. Revenge. Justice for his now dead wife, Becca. And the man would do anything to get it. “There’s a new member of the Seven?” Hughie asked his girlfriend Annie. She nodded and showed them. “Woah.” “wow.” was said amongst the boys. Y/S/N or Y/N. She had on a white lingerie type costume with angel wings that weren’t part of her skin. “What’s her power?” “She can fly.” Annie said. Billy stared at the picture of the girl. She was breathtaking.
Her costume made her boobs look bigger, thanks to Vought and she looked so sweet. Except Billy was still on edge about Supes. “She looks like an angel.” MM said. “Yeah, literally.” Hughie finished. Annie smiled at the boys. “Well she is an absolute sweetheart and she is single.” Billy didn’t know why but that caught his attention. She was single and she wasn’t a bitch? That was perfect. He smirked and looked at the others. “Well boys we might have ourselves a winner.” 
Billy hadn’t really planned this out too much but if he could make her fall for him, he could get information. Information on how to destroy Homelander. So here he was at a convention that she was signing stuff at. He was in line and made sure he would be the last so he could actually talk to her. She had the sweetest smile on as she signed pictures and merch. She didn’t seem to be faking the excitement but she was new so she really didn’t know how Vought worked yet.
Once he was up next to talk to her, he finally heard her voice. It sounded angelic and sweet. He didn’t realize how hard it was gonna be. “Hello.” She greeted him. “Hello luv, Billy Butcher.” He introduces himself. “Love the accent. Makes you a lot sexier.” She flirts. He was caught off guard from her comment. He didn’t realize that she would’ve thought anything of him. Which made it so much easier to get her right where he wanted. 
“Billy, fuck.” She moaned as he pounded into her cunt. She was up against a wall and he was holding her as he fucked the living shit out of her. Her tiny body fit perfectly with his, like a puzzle piece. “Holy shit. You’re so sexy.” She moaned out. He could cum from that. She was praising him and saying the hottest shit to him. He groaned in her ear making her pussy flutter around him. “Are you close?” He asked her. She nodded and gasped.
“So fucking close. Gosh you fuck me so well.” She whined. Damn he’s never felt like this before. He was so close to cumming and she was making it worse. He wanted her to cum first. “Open your eyes, luv. I want to see you fall apart.” She opened her eyes and her mouth remained open. He looked at her as her eyes rolled back and she moaned loudly cumming all over his dick. That triggered his release. He placed his face in her neck as he let out a moan and came hard. The hardest he’s ever came in so long. She held him close and calmed down. “This can’t be the last time you’re inside of me.” She said. It wouldn’t be. 
“Holy fuck. Can you believe that prick?” Y/N asked Billy. He chuckled at her anger. “Homelander is a lying selfish asshole.” “What made you realize that?” He asked her amused. She shook her head and sat down next to him. “We just found out that we’ve been injected with Compound V and he has the audacity to be okay with it?” Billy shrugged.
“I mean the fucker has everything, luv. Why wouldn’t he be okay with it?” She looked at him and shook her head. “He’s not human at all. That I know.” “So what do you wanna take him down?” Butcher asked. She laughed but then stopped. “That’s not a bad idea. I know Maeve and Starlight hate him. I could get the help.” And that’s how she ended up meeting The Boys. 
“Wait, so you hired these guys to help?” Y/N asked her boyfriend. “Yep they can help ya.” He said. The boys were confused on why Butcher was talking about them like that. Did Y/N not know? “Do you guys even have powers?” She asked them. They shook their heads and she sighed. “So how are you gonna help?” She asked them. “We’ve dealt with a lot of things like this.” Frenchie told her. Hughie looked at Butcher and realized that he was using Y/N to get to Homelander. He felt sick and wanted nothing more than to yell at the man. Y/N wasn’t a bad supe like Butcher thinks. But Hughie seemed to be the only one to catch on to Butcher’s plan. “Okay if you say so.” Y/N said, looking at the boys. “Perfect.” Butcher smirked. 
“So, you and Butcher huh?” Annie teased Y/N as they walked into the Vought towers. “Shhh I don’t know if it’s super serious yet.” She tells Annie. “Y/N, it’s been months almost a year. Do you love him?” Y/N looked at Annie and smiled. “Of course I do.” “See you need to tell him.” Maybe Annie was right. She should tell Butcher that she loves him. But when would be the right time?
His hips pounded against hers as she was laid on the Seven’s table in the conference room. How did they manage to have sex in here? They were on a mission to grab a file but got distracted. It was very dangerous to be having sex here, but that is what turned them on. “Billy.” She moaned a little too loud, forgetting that they were fucking in the seven’s conference room. His hand covered her mouth, mumbling her moans. “As sexy as those noises are, you need to be quiet.” He groaned.
She nodded but couldn’t help herself. Each snap of his hips felt better and better. Her hands gripped the table, turning her knuckles white. Billy’s other hand went in between them to rub her clit. Her moaning was still loud even with his hand covering her mouth. “You close, luv? We need to hurry.” He said and pounded faster. She arched her back as she felt her high approaching. Her sweet moans turned to whines and whimpers.
He felt himself getting close too, causing him to let out groans of his own. She gasped his name as she came undone. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, seeing this made Billy cum with a moan of her name. His hips worked them through their high. She sat up and cupped his face. “Billy, I love you.” She whispered. He froze in place and stared at her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was using her and she fell in love with him. That wasn’t even the worst part. He loved her too. “I love you too.” He said and he kissed her. Guilt rose in his chest as he realized that they were in too deep. 
A year later, their wedding happened and Hughie kept a huge secret that to this day fills him with guilt. Though, he saw Billy falling in love with Y/N, that wasn’t the plan. Billy was using and lying to his now wife. She didn’t even know about Becca or Ryan. She didn’t know who the real Billy was. His backstory, none of it. MM and Frenchie felt guilt as well. They were so confused about why they had to lie to her in the beginning until one drunk night: 
The Boys were laughing and drinking, actually having fun for once. There wasn’t any stress about Vought or Compound V, just getting drunk. “That Y/N girl seems really cool, man.” MM told Butcher, pouring himself another glass. “Eh, She’s okay, Just another seed to be planted.” The boys looked at him, confused. “Wait, you’re using her?” Frenchie asked him. “Yeah, I am. Sure she’s a pretty thing and a good fuck. But she’s a supe and she’s just like the rest of em.” “Nah man, I don’t think Y/N is. She hates Homelander.” MM said. Billy shrugged. “She’s just another vought test subject. Once I have what I need she’ll be gone.” Frenchie and MM looked at each other. This was low, even for Billy. Y/N wasn’t a bad person nor did she deserve this. 
Which is why MM and Frenchie’s smiles didn’t reach that far up as the two got married. Hughie didn't either but he thought he was the only one that knew. Annie was oblivious to everything and Hughie didn’t have the heart to tell her. Y/N looked happy, she was happy and in love. What she doesn’t know, can’t hurt her. Billy felt happy again, after so long. He had a beautiful wife and a great team. He wasn’t worried about anything right now. He pushed everything to the back of his mind, even the fact that he used her in the beginning. 
“Just to think you were just some sexy guy in line at my meet and greet.” She said and looked over at him. He chuckled, “Just to think that we fucked an hour after meeting.” She laughed and shrugged. “Couldn’t help myself, I knew at that very moment that you were the one I wanted.” She tells him. His face softens at her words. “I knew too.” He said but that was a lie though. He didn’t know until months later. 
Months later and everything was going great. Billy and Y/N got their own place away from The Boys. They loved them but it was nice to have privacy. Y/N wanted out of The Seven and planned to talk to them but figured that wouldn’t work. Billy told her it would be best to take her file and disappear. She was on edge about it at first, not thinking it was a good idea. She didn’t want them knowing that she was married or where she was. Billy was lucky that it was her idea for them not to know she was married. He didn’t have to stress about her finding anything out. She walked into Vought Towers in her costume so nobody would suspect anything.
She didn’t have her ring on, she never did when she was here. She got in the elevator and hit the floor that she needed to go on. She has never snuck into where the files were placed. The only Seven member aloud to look at the files were Homelander. Her nerves were high as she walked out of the elevator and to the door. The door was locked as she suspected it would be. But thanks to Frenchie she knew how to undo locks. She looked around to make sure she was alone. Once the cost was clear she unlocked the door and snuck in. Stan Edgar’s office that he thankfully was not at today.
She looked around for a moment and sighed. His office seemed normal. She saw the filing cabinet and went to it. She carefully opened it and started looking for hers. She found it after a minute and grabbed it. She read it and chuckled. They had a lot of info on her, just not the important stuff. She was about to close the cabinet when someone opened the door. She gasped and looked at whoever came in. “Y/N?” The person asked.
She turned around and saw Homelander. “Hey!” She said with a fake smile. “What are you doing in here?” He asked. She really didn’t know how to lie her way out of it. She wasn’t planning for this to happen. “I uh just wanted to see my file.” She said. “Your file?” She held it up in her hands. “Yeah, after I found out about Compound V I stopped talking to my parents but wanted to get in contact with them to get the rest of my shit because I just bought a house.” Nice save. “Gotcha. You got a new place?” He asked. She nodded. “Yep, in the city.” Homelander seemed to be buying everything she was saying. 
She quickly got out of there with a breath of relief. She almost got caught but she felt proud that she saved herself. Homelander on the other hand was very curious about where she lived. He never figured out where she did before so he took the opportunity to follow her. She got home and unaware that she was being followed and set the file down on the table. Billy was out with The Boys so she had the place to herself.
He came home a few hours later. “Got the file.” She said pointing it out. He grabbed it and looked through it. It was creepy how much stuff they knew about her. “Good. Now ya can finally leave.” He said to her. She nodded and took the file. She shook her head. “I almost got caught though, saved my ass.” She said. “Who caught ya?” “Homelander. He uh came into the room after I had gotten it but I told him the best lie I've ever told.” She said. “What was the lie?” “That I needed to get in contact with my parents for my shit because I moved.” “And he bought that?” “Seemed to.” She shrugged. Homelander bought it up until he hovered about her house with his number one enemy. He couldn’t believe that Y/N had betrayed him. Especially with Billy. 
Y/N had to go into Vought’s tower one more time to pack up her shit. She would have yesterday but she didn’t want Homelander seeing after catching her with her file. As she was packing she heard a knock at the door. She went and opened it and there stood Homelander. “Can I help you?” She asked. He smiled and pushed her aside, walking in her office. “Uh excuse me? I didn’t invite you in.” She said. He chuckled and turned around to face her. “Why did you lie to me yesterday?” He asked. She looked confused, “What do you mean?” “You lied to me about why you had your file.” He said. Oh shit. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes you did and you are working with Billy Butcher.” He yelled. “Who?” She asked. Though she was confused on how Homelander knew him. “Oh don’t play stupid. I saw that you two live together.” He growled. Her eyes widened. “You followed me?” She asked him. “Yes I did because you’re a lying little bitch.” He said and walked closer to her. She backed up against the door. “How do you know Billy?” She asked. He looked at her confused. “What the fuck do you mean?” “How do you know him?” He chuckled. “You know damn well how I know him.” She shook head and looked up at him. “No. I don’t .” She said. By her heartbeat he could tell she wasn’t lying. “You are working for him and you don’t know?”
“I’m not working for him.” She said. “But you live with him.” “He’s my husband.” She whispered. Homelander’s face dropped. “You’re married to him?” She nodded. “And you don’t know how we know each other?” He asked. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” She said. He pulled her arm causing her to screech in pain. He pulled her to Stan’s office and took her inside. “Why are we here?” She asked. “Go in the filing cabinet.” He told her, motioning towards it. She looked at him confused. “Go look under B.” He told her. She walked over to cabinet and opened it. She looked at the letter B and all the files under it. She saw one that had the name “Butcher.” on it, well two. She pulled them both out.
She looked at the one with the woman on it first and saw that she was married to Billy. Y/N gasped and almost dropped the files. She read through the file and saw that the woman was dead but had a son named Ryan. She looked at Billy’s and wanted to cry. He had been keeping this from her. “Ryan is my son, not Billy’s.” Homelander said. Tears streaming down her face. “He was married?” She asked. “Y/N, he thought for the longest time that I killed Becca and he’s been after me ever since.” She sobbed. “So how did she die?” Y/N asked, turning towards him.
“Ryan, our son, accidentally killed her and my girlfriend at the time.” Y/N looked broken and shocked. “So he’s been trying to kill you for that?” She asked. Homelander nodded. “I take it since you didn’t know any of this, he’s probably using you to get to me.” He tells her. The files drop from her hands and she breaks down. “He was wanted, along with 4 others that he works with.” Hughie, Frenchie, MM and Kumiko. 
She got home, late that night. She ignored Billy’s calls and had to be anywhere but there. She sighed as she opened the door to the house and closed it. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to call ya all day.” Billy exclaimed. She looked at him and it took everything in her body not to break. He noticed that her eyes were empty. “Are ya okay?” He asked and went to touch her but she pulled away. “You wanna tell who Becca is?” She asked. His face dropped. “Or the fact that you and Homelander go way back?”
“Or the fact that you’ve been using me for information on Homelander?” She screamed. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Huh, Billy? You wanna explain?” “H-how do you know any of that?” He asked. She scoffed in disbelief. “That shouldn’t be the concern here but since it is to you I saw the files. Yours and Beccas.” She yelled. “You’ve been using me, you don’t love me.” She whispered, tears streaming down her face. “That’s not true.” He said. “Which part? The part that you were using me or the part that you don’t love?” She yelled.
“I do love ya.” She shook her head. “No.” She sobbed. “You don’t. You wouldn’t have lied to me.” She was right. He knew that but what could he say to make any of this better. “Look I know I should have told you about my wife and that I knew Homelander but if we could just sit down and talk about this that would be great.” “You wanna sit down and talk? What excuse do you have?” She yelled. “I don’t have any excuses. But I wanna tell you everything. Just let me give you that.” She didn’t move from her spot. “Tell me right now.”
“Homelander raped my wife. I had thought for the longest time she was dead and he had killed her. She was alive and had a kid. The kid wasn’t mine, it was that cunt Homelander’s. I’ve known before I met you that he was a piece of shit. So when I saw you, yes I thought you would be great use for information on him.” She scoffed. “But then I actually got to know ya and I fell in love with ya.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry about Becca, Billy but you shouldn’t have used me or lied to me.” She said. “I know.”
“I actually loved you from the beginning and to figure out that this was all a lie from the enemy himself.” “It’s not all a lie. I do love ya.” He walked closer to her. She stepped back. “No.” she mumbled. She slid off the ring. “We were never on the same page. You never cared about me. This ring means nothing, it never did.” She said and threw it at him. “Y/N-” “Don’t.” She held up her hand. “Please just stop. I’m tired and i’m over this.” She sighed and walked out of the house, leaving him in tears. 
She drove to where The Boys were staying, not wanting to be around Billy. She opened the door and they all turned their heads. She noticed a very handsome guy that they were talking to. “Hey is Billy with ya?” Frenchie asked. Y/N shook her head. “No, he’s not.” “Are you okay?” Hughie asked her. She shook her head and tried to hold back the tears. “No, I’m not.” Hughie ran over to her. “What’s wrong?” She sighed and looked at him. “He used me to get information on Homelander and he lied to me. But I’m sure you already knew that.” She said, glaring at him. His jaw dropped. “Y/N, I wanted to tell you so many times but you guys looked happy.” She held up her hand.
“Just stop. I don’t need this right now.” She walked around him and grabbed the bottle of vodka that was on the table. They all gave her pity looks. “You guys don’t owe me like he does but it would have been nice to know that he was a shitty guy.” She said and walked into one of the rooms. She sighed and sat down. She looked around and noticed that she was in Billy’s old room. She sighed and took the vodka and drank from it. She heard footsteps and she looked up. The guy that she saw earlier. “Who are you?” She asked. “Ben.” She nodded.
He sat on the bed next to her. He chuckled as she drank straight from the bottle. “Something funny, Ben?” She asked. “No it’s just you’re too pretty to be heartbroken over a guy like Butcher.” She laughed, a genuine laugh. “Let me guess you guys go way back too?” She asked. “Just a week.” He told her. She nodded. “Well if it only took you a week to figure out he sucks, why'd it take me 2 years?” He chuckled at her questions. “Looks like you love him.” She shook her head. “Yeah, pathetic right? He lied to me about every little fucking thing and used me for information on Homelander.”
“Sounds like a dick.” They both laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m trama dumping on you.” “Nonsense.” He shook his head. She laid on the bed with a sigh. He followed her. “I’m surprised he’s not here, looking for me.” She said. “He’s an idiot.” “Yeah but so am i.” Ben turned his head towards her. “Pretty hot for an idiot then.” She turned to look at him. “Are you hitting on me?” She asked. “Yeah. I’d be an idiot not to.” He said. She chuckled and turned her whole body towards him.
“You don’t even know me.” She said. “Yeah but you seem like you need to be taken care of and not by some jackass.” “How do I know you’re not a jackass?” She asked. “You don’t but I can assure you that I’m not gonna lie to you about my past life or using you. I’m just trying to fuck you.” She stared at him and her eyes kept going from his eyes to his lips. He noticed her doing this and cupped her face. He turned his body towards her and moved closer. She didn’t move away, she didn’t want to. She let him lean in and kiss her. There wasn’t fireworks, sparks or butterflies but damn it felt good. “Y/N?” She pulled away from the kiss and gasped.
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quimichi · 8 months
Note
NSFW [ SFW if NSFW isn’t okay- ] Malleus Hc? [ male reader if your comfy with tat, if not gn is good too :3 ] ignore if your not taking requests or this isn’t okay-
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. . . . . . . . . ╰──╮MY DEAREST ╭──╯ . . . . . . . . .
(N)SFW MALLEUS BF HCS
Malleus x Gn!Reader
A/n: I do male reader, but since you said gn reader is fine too I did gn reader! I hope it's ok but obviously I can still do a male reader ♡
SFW
: ̗̀➛ first of all, damn you're lucky like---
: ̗̀➛ the fact that you're now in a relationship with the most powerful being of the school is mad scary for so many. After all, you're just a magicless human.
: ̗̀➛ but you are so much more to Malleus himself, and he takes a pot of pride in being your partner, boyfriend sounds so...weird to him
: ̗̀➛ Lilia btw is a super proud mom
: ̗̀➛ i have the add the adorable gargoyle stuff because it's a Malleus thing. He always takes his time and is open minded to youe interest, so obviously you are too! Whatever it might be he will try and study it to understand you better
: ̗̀➛ please help him tho, he may get a little lost in places of the internet if he ever trys to learn more on there
: ̗̀➛ insist on you two sleeping together. And INSISTS that you and Grim move to his dorm, his room to be specific, because the conditions you live in? We don't talk about them---
: ̗̀➛ once he got a taste of cuddling, it was over for you. He can and will get clingy at night, pulling you into his chest so he can hold you
: ̗̀➛ very protective and somehow greedy. Your attention is his, his animalistic dragon side may come out there but you can deal with it, so far that is-
: ̗̀➛ gets you way to expensive presents, mostly with pretty gems. Things like jewelry, or even other decorative pieces. All in your favorite color(s)
: ̗̀➛ loves to take late night walks with you, having your arms linked while slowly walking beside each other enjoying not only the atmosphere but each other's company
: ̗̀➛ will also read to you if you ever ask for it. Having you falling asleep right there in his arms ro his soothing voice really does sound like a dream
: ̗̀➛ lol he literally told Sebek to also protect you from any harm that comes if he can't be around you (which is like so rare he's glued to your side)
: ̗̀➛ baby can't use his phone right and would think that if he speaks to his phone with the chat open it will magically send the text to you, like you always do with voice mails---
: ̗̀➛ or he has his front camera open and doesn't know how to turn the view so he literally turns the whole phone and trys to blindly press the button
: ̗̀➛ he's so cute stfu
NSFW
: ̗̀➛ this guy is huge like---massive. You have to be around his size to really take it down good-
: ̗̀➛ rip to my fellow small people out there
: ̗̀➛ obviously he gives off big dick energy and this is what he has, a big dick. Like 9 inches, in cm that would be 22
: ̗̀➛ it's average in thickness but the length...damn: ̗̀➛ like i said before very protective, also meaning possessive. He will mark you up, with his smell and with any other sign he can. That's why he gets you the jewelry too. And also hickey's
: ̗̀➛ if you dont like those, he won't do any of them he respects you to much for this to push you into anything that you are not willing to at least try. Same with showing them, if you don't like people to know this way, he is very okay with this
: ̗̀➛ since he does love and respect you a lot, like literally adore and being obsessed with you, you will have the final word of anything. He is willing to try everything out of curiosity and will maybe bring something up himself, but won't MAKE you do anything. A no is a no after all
: ̗̀➛ so a no for him is definitely degration, like sry people who like it but no-
: ̗̀➛ [FEM REDER] a little yandere but would baby trap you at some point in life cause he knocks you up all the time with everything he has. So in the end, you are truly only his
: ̗̀➛ [MALE READER] would also let you take control once in a while. Yes, he is dominant for 99% but if you are also, just ask and take control he won't bite unless you want to, bite back even. Literally ruin this man's insides he will love it ♡
: ̗̀➛ seeing you so...rounded with his cum just makes him keep going, if you let him
: ̗̀➛ also, belly bulge. It's hypnotizing seeing himself going in and out of you, in and out...
: ̗̀➛ can go for so many rounds, because the Stamina he has is insane. Like he turns when you star begging for his dick inside you
: ̗̀➛ really loves to hear you, he knows you're obsessed with his voice but so is he with yours. He won't only whisper those dirty but also sweet things into your ear, making you weak. He wil also make you say things you were never expecting to say, without him forcing you. Same with the noises he can draw out
: ̗̀➛ He makes you shameless without even realizing it and it makes his brain go brrr
: ̗̀➛ to a point where Lilia heard it more than once-
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blackleatherjacketz · 1 month
Text
Give In
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Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader
Summary: Klaus shows up out of the blue to remind you who you belong to.
Warnings: Mature Content, Mild Violence, Alcohol, Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Klaus and his Mouth
Word Count: 1.4k+
Raucous voices from the drunken patrons on the patio echo against the vastness of the parking lot as you walk away from the crowd, having had enough of the holiday scene inside. Hand in hand with someone you’d only just met an hour before, you make your way out to your car until a feeling of dread suddenly washes over you. Unsure if it’s from all the green beer that you know you shouldn’t have drunk, the sensation intensifies as you get closer, tugging at your insides and prickling the fine hair on the backs of your arms with each step you take. You hear a heavy thud and a light moan, the alcohol dulling your senses just enough to keep you on your path as you turn toward where you had parked your car before you finally see him.
What the hell is he doing here?
“A local pub on St. Patrick’s Day? That’s very unlike you, now is it, darling?” Klaus licks the fresh blood off his lips as he approaches you and your guest, his hazel eyes aglow with a mixture of hunger and satisfaction before returning back to their natural hue. The limp body of the poor woman he had drained dry is just barely visible beneath the undercarriage of a Jeep as you attempt to take in your surroundings, damning the extra shot you took at the bar before walking outside with the man who had bought it for you.
“Who the hell is this guy? You know him?” Your new friend looks over at you, oblivious to the danger he’s in as a jealous shade of pink paints his cheeks.
“Klaus,” is all you can say as he steps closer, that all too familiar blend of fear and excitement tingling its way through your spine as if it’s your very first time seeing him.
It’s as if he’s capable of infecting the air around him with his mere presence, drawing out an innate response from your body every single time. You wish that you could blame it on compulsion, that you could somehow pass the buck onto his supernatural powers, but you both know he’s never had to use any of them on you before. You hate yourself for how weak you are for him, hate how your body instantly reacts to the mere sound of his voice or the glint in his eye like a dog in some sort of sick Pavlovian response. He could take whatever he wanted from you at any time he pleased, and you’d thank him for it.
And he knew that.
“The real question is… who the hell are you?” Klaus focuses his attention on your potential new bedfellow as he closes the gap between them, ignoring you for the moment as his fists find their way into the thin fabric of his novelty green t-shirt. With very little effort, he twists his grip on it, lifting the young man high into the air before staring menacingly into his eyes. “Well?”
“Alex.” He answers immediately, his voice shaking in sobering trepidation.
“And just how long have you been seeing my little witch, Alex?” His eyes darken as he compels the young man to tell him the truth, his dark tone just as threatening as it is curious.
“Witch? We just met tonight, I swear!” He lifts his hands up in surrender, not even bothering to look back at you for confirmation.
“You swear, hmmm?” He laughs to himself, that subtle amused chuckle rumbling in his chest before turning into a low growl, catching in his throat. “And just what were your intentions in bringing her out here like this, huh? Were you hoping to fuck her?”
“Klaus!” You scold in protest and take a step toward them, stopping only as he shoots you a deadly glare.
“Y…yes!” Alex admits freely, all the confidence and charisma he’d shown you inside disappearing in an instant.
“Good.” A sly grin slowly creeps across Klaus’ lips as Alex divulges his obvious intentions with you, fear trembling through his entire body and into his fingertips as they tremor sporadically. “She is rather tempting, isn’t she?”
Alex only whimpers in response, too afraid to say the wrong thing.
“You’re a bit young for her, don’t you think?” He grabs hold of his jaw and squeezes, turning his face from side to side to get a better look at his youthful features as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.
“I didn’t care about that.” Alex cries.
“No, I know. ‘Age is nothing but a number’ and all that, but she needs someone older, someone with experience who can take care of her, someone who can really give her what she needs... Do you think you’re that someone, Alex?” He raises an eyebrow as his grip on his chin tightens, making sure to cut the inside of his cheeks against his molars.
“No,” he can barely whisper at this point.
“Good boy, now why don’t you go back inside, have another drink and forget that you ever met her; forget all of this?” He brings him down closer to his face, their noses mere inches apart as his voice lightens just the slightest bit. “Now run along back inside and find someone your own age, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Alex mutters with a nod, scurrying off the second Klaus lowers him down and releases him from his grasp.
“Nose ring really does it for you, huh, love?” Klaus finally addresses you as Alex’s hurried footsteps fade off in the distance. “I didn’t take him as your type.”
“What are you doing here?” You fold your arms across your chest to put some distance between you, as if that will somehow help protect you from his deadly charms. “I thought you’d left town.”
“Well, now I’m back.” His tone shifts completely, his voice now like slowly melted caramel, dripping with the confidence you swear he was born with as it warms every inch of you, those perfect lips of his curling into a knowing smirk. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”
“And I thought you would have at least called,” you counter coldly.
“Oh, you always fight me tooth and nail don’t you, darling?” He laughs to himself as he slowly saunters toward you. “Always trying to convince yourself that you don’t want me, that you don’t need me.” His hypnotic gaze grazes over your resistant frame before he gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek. “That you don’t belong to me.”
“Belong to you?” Your lips part as your heart begins to race beneath your nearly heaving chest, pumping your cheeks full of blood as the effect he has on you grows more urgent than you care to admit. “I don’t…”
“Shhh…” He stops you before you can finish your thought, grabbing hold of your chin and lifting it to face him. “Let’s drop the charade, shall we?” He takes his time to take in your features, his nearly blown out pupils dilating even more as they linger on your parting lips.
“Mmm hmm,” you try to answer as his intoxicating scent surrounds you, the sweet smell of cinnamon coated with smoky notes of bergamot flooding your senses.
It’s all over now.
“You’re my little witch… not his, not anyone else’s… mine,” he growls. His hand moves from your chin down to your throat, squeezing gently as he ghosts the promise of a kiss while opening his mouth against yours. He stares at you as his tongue languidly traces the outline of your lips just long enough to stifle your breath. “Right? Show me you understand.”
Your lips quiver as they glisten in his spit before you lean forward just enough to lick his in return, slowly savoring the hints of iron and salt until you can’t help but kiss him completely. You breathe him in, forgetting about how long it’s been since you’ve last touched him as he embraces the kiss with an unmatched fervor. You gasp as he presses his hips into yours, nearly knocking the wind out of you as a satisfied groan vibrates in his chest. You moan into his mouth as he clumsily backs you up against the nearest car as you try to catch your breath, that moisture already collecting between your thighs.
“That’s it, love,” he whispers, pressing those pouty lips of his against your chin and jawline as his other hand starts unbuttoning your jeans. “Give in to me like you always fucking do.”
----------
Read more KLAUS!
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ailithnight · 1 year
Text
*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.
A King in Arkham
Chapter 3
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.
"One condition."
"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."
"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."
"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."
"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."
"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.
"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"
Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"
"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."
"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"
"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."
"Then who has been hurting him!?"
"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.
"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."
Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.
"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."
"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.
Batman.
Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?
Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.
Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.
Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.
Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.
Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.
And you are only telling us now, why Drake?
Codenames.
Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.
6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.
I'm not far out. Want me to join you?
Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.
No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.
You think he might be meta?
Hood?
Jason glares at Tim betrayed.
"I wanted to see his fuckin face."
Tim just waves him off.
"They need to know. You tell them or I do."
Boys
Jason scowls, but relents.
He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.
All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.
The comms were silent for a moment.
A 15 year old...
Did what you've never had the balls to old man.
...I've fought the Joker.
Daniel hits first.
Hnn
I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.
4 minutes.
We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.
The fuck are you thanking me for?
For helping. And giving us time to work this out.
ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.
.
The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.
No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.
Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.
"Where is he?"
"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.
Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.
"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.
"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.
Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.
"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.
"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.
"There's something in there with him."
Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.
"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."
This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.
Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."
Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.
"Robin, report."
"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."
"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.
"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."
Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.
"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.
"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."
"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."
At that moment, the comms crackled to life.
Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.
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elaina-writes-things · 3 months
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Hi I have a lucifer 18+request if you’re still on the high. You can make it a dable or headcanons. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.
You’re sitting on the couch reading a 🌶️ book and Lucifer crawls between your legs and tells you to keer reading as he eats you out.
I was gonna take it seriously, I swear. But I just really think Lucifer would act like this, and now here we are.
The content below is NSFW/18+ !!!
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--
You loved to read when you were alive. Every home you lived in always had at least one, large bookshelf dedicated to your collection, and that didn't change after your death. You were thankful that, even eternally damned, there were simple pleasures to indulge in, and everyone who knew you could bet on finding you with your nose in a book if they needed your attention.
That was how Lucifer met you. It was also how he found you, waiting outside a restaurant for your first date. And how he found you the morning after you spent your first night together. And...well, you get it.
"If I didn't know any better," the seraphim complained, crawling into bed to settle next to you for the evening, "I'd say you liked spending more time with your books than little old me."
You slipped a bookmark between the pages of your current piece of literature, resting it in your lap, and gave him a sheepish smile.
"I adore you," you promised him, "I just love how wonderful these books are, too. Every turn of the page sweeps me away to an adventure of the mind. I can place myself in the protagonist's shoes from the comfort of my home! I can almost feel every struggle they endure. Every fight, every triumph, every kiss, every —"
"Kiss?" Lucifer perked up, and before you got the chance to respond, he'd snatched up your book and was flicking through the pages. "Ohohoo, my dearest, why didn't you tell me you were reading such salacious things? If you're looking to experience pleasure, by all means, you just need to ask."
Suddenly, the book was thrust back into your hands, and you stiffened as the blonde straddled you.
"Uh, what are you doing?" You asked, cheeks burning.
"Read to me, dove," Lucifer grinned, eyes alight the same way they did when he came up with a new duck-based innovation. "You want to live vicariously through your books? I can give that to you. So, read."
You glanced at the page Lucifer had flipped to and felt like you were going to catch fire. He'd chosen a scene in which the heroine of the book had stolen away with her appointed knight for an evening of passion before she was forced to marry the prince from a rival kingdom.
"Oh, I don't know," you muttered, "this is really — ah!"
Lucifer was still wearing that smarmy little grin as he pulled on your hips, dragging your body towards his, and started undoing the buttons on your pants. Cheeky fucker didn't even have to look, he was just popping them open with a flick of his fingers.
"Go on," he encouraged, settling himself comfortably between your legs after he pulled the fabric down. "Don't tell me you're getting stage fright? Show me what kinds of stories you indulge in so voraciously, darling."
You hid your face between the pages of your book, which only forced you to stare at the words he demanded you recite. When you tried to squirm away from him, only to have two deceptively powerful hands press you firmly to the mattress, you knew there was no getting out of this.
"Finally," the princess sighed, "alone at last, my dear. I am all yours tonight."
"Tonight. This night," said the knight, "but it could be every night...run away with me, princess."
"I want nothing more, beloved," she proclaimed, "but I have responsibilities to my kingdom. This marriage will forge an alliance that will help us for future generations."
The knight's face twisted in pain for only a moment, before it morphed into a calmness as cold as his armor.
"Then tonight, on this night, I'll make it one that you'll never forget."
"How many times can they fit the word 'night' into one chapter," Lucifer muttered, placing a small kiss on your knee. "Skip ahead a couple paragraphs. Get us to the fun part, my dove."
You resisted the urge to close your legs, knowing it would be a fruitless effort with how hungry his majesty looked, and flipped to the next page.
Princess Calliope carefully gathered up her skirts, the soft fabric brushing against her even softer legs. Xander, her knight, knelt in front of her and trailed one gauntlet gently up her calf —
"With his armor on!? There's no way that would feel good for her."
"I mean, he's gonna take it off eventually."
"Skip another couple paragraphs."
The princess shivered under Xander's touch. His large, broad hands squeezing her thighs pulled a gasp from delicately parted lips, and she had to fight not to cover herself as she lay bare to him.
"There are many ways to prepare your body for mine, princess," Xander murmured, "but this one is my favorite."
He lowered his head and placed a series of kisses on each of her thighs, trailing closer and closer to her hot core.
Calliope whimpered when her faithful knight's lips reached her flower. He kissed each side reverently, then used his tongue to part the p-petals, licking a firm st-stripe up the length...o-of...
Your reading stuttered when Lucifer's actions began to mimic Xander's. Now that his commentary wasn't cutting in every thirty seconds, the written experience being actively performed on you was much more erotic than you anticipated, and you reminded yourself to thank him for that little idea later.
"Keep reading," the blonde requested. You bit your lip and tried to ignore his warm breaths on your pussy. The words on the page were suddenly much harder to read.
He kissed each side reverently, then used his tongue to part the petals, licking a firm stripe up the length of her sex until he reached the little, pink bud at the top. Xander kissed it, d-delighting in the squeal he pulled from his beloved, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked g-g-gently while his fing-fingers circled her entrance.
Calliope felt like she was on fire. Her body responded to Xander's in a way she'd never known until tonight. It's like she was a violin, and he was the musician plucking every single one of her strings.
"Why is he plucking violin strings? Is he stupid?"
You groaned, now thoroughly turned on but annoyed by your partner's continuous interruptions.
"I'm just saying that's not how you play a —"
"Do you wanna eat me out like the bitch in the book or not!?"
The short king's red eyes widened, then his expression became unbearably smug. You resisted the urge to toss a pillow at his head.
"Look at you, playing hard to get at the beginning and now practically begging me to get lost between your thighs. I knew this would be fun for you. Maybe if you beg a little more, I'll —"
Pillows were too soft. You threw the book at him instead, relishing in his cry and the thunk that emanated from the collision.
"Next time you wanna do something fun, Luci," you said, getting up and kissing the blooming injury on his forehead, "don't criticize it start to finish."
"I'd argue there wasn't a finish," he pouted, wrapping his arms around you for a snuggle before you could pull away.
"Who's fault is that?"
"I'll make it up to you," Lucifer promised. "Anything you want, you name it."
That piqued your interest, a smug little grin of your own starting to form.
"Anything?"
He nodded excitedly. "Tell me what I can do for you, love. How will I make your dreams come true?"
"You."
"Me?" He echoed.
"And me."
"And you. Me and you," he chirped, practically bouncing as he hugged you tighter.
"And the biggest strap we can find."
What little color existed on his face drained away. Lucifer stared at you, eyes wide and round, then buried his head defeatedly in your shoulder. His blonde hair tickled your jaw, and you placed a gentle kiss to his temple.
"I did promise anything," he mumbled.
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mellowwillowy · 8 months
Text
Teasing (Bullying) Yan! Eldritch Horrors/TricksterS' Cock
(*peaces out after making them jealous*)
CW: GN! God Reader (mentioned as male and female), mentioned breeding,Bullied cocks (RIP Erickson), "what happens when you accidentally touch their pee pee" :D ps: don't mind the names.
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- You were only doing what you usually do, your hand inside the bathtub feeling his tentacles until you were actually feeling something else.
- You did not realize it until you finally touched something hairy, there's no way a slimy tentacle has that right?
- Your left hand went to feel another thing in the hope of finding his tentacle. Bam bam, you got his tensed thigh instead. You could have sworn you heard him hissed slightly from the contact.
- "No looking back."
- That was the deal you had with him. You got to relax with him in the tub but you were not allowed to turn back. Why? Because he knew his face would be peppered by kisses non-stop if you were allowed to look at him.
- You decided to act dumb and kept on feeling it, squeezing and tickling it every now and then.
- He didn't voice any of his discontent and only stayed silent while occasionally twitching when you teased one of his veins.
- You wiggled on his lap, teasing his boner with your plump ass while humming to yourself.
- "Your tentacle isn't that large this time hm?"
- You did not even bother to stroke his ego (both literal and), even worse, you start to compare his sizes with his brother's.
- "I never knew he has larger tentacles than yours. Perhaps his tentacle would be waaaay stronger in both squeezing and penetrating?" (Penetrating, what?)
- He stayed silent but you could feel his hands feeling your shoulder blades, peppering your wet neck with kisses before it turned into hickeys and bite marks.
- You squealed a bit at the contact and pain, relishing in the sting of it.
- "Are you competing for the power of your bites with his? I can give you the win if you want~"
- Another splash of oil to the burning fire. He may be silent and demeaning, but angering him will have you faced with something even worse than the worst.
- "Ahh, I remember how one of my devotees used to go crazy and mark me, hard. Here." You pointed to the place where your follower bit, "Mmh, he even drew a lot of blood to the point I thought he was some kind of vampire or he was trying to bring me with him to death."
- Rest assured, that man had long been sent his way driven to madness as the man bit himself to death. His teeth were all shaped into sharp rows of shark's teeth to make him feast himself easier, all done by himself under his influence.
- "I promise you that I'll reserve you the best place in the lake."
- He licked the blood he drew clean, relishing in how tasty it tasted in his tongue.
- "I'd rather not demonstrate just how much it's capable of binding you to me for eternity. Even if this body could not conceive, a miracle is still a miracle, no?" (works both F/M)
- He knew you were acting dumb, but who was he to confront you about stuff that he had known you would never admit about?
- "What can this little thing do to me? Break my bones? Can it even crack me?"
- "Rest assured that it can birth me genuine happiness of seeing my offspring inside you." (Be it a male, female, or intersex, it'll work either way~)
- You wiggled your ass on him again, this time you let go of his cock and feel it with your ass instead, "Then how about you show me just how mighty the King in Yellow is?"
- He was mighty, all evident in the bulge of your stomach filled with dripping cum. You whined when he pushed the leaking cum back into you before lining his cock to your entrance again.
- "Stop acting like a damn innocent virgin when you are nothing but a god that is turned on by my degradations."
- Don't worry, HAITA will be there to pamper you with his never-ending praises of worship.
Hastur (HAITA - ???)
- You were only cuddling with him under the weighted blankets, shutting yourselves away from the cruel cold.
- Your hand was ruffling his fluffy air and then moved to his back, hugging him tightly.
- He responded by pulling you closer to his chest, nose nestling on your head while his leg wrapped around yours.
- You moved your hand to feel his chiseled chest before turning away from him, turning yourself into a small spoon.
- Noel who was oblivious to this whined a bit, his arms wrapped around you tightly.
- You chuckled and moved your hand to bring his leg to wrap it around your leg. Boom. It's his crotch (How? Don't ask me).
- He immediately hissed at the contact, body jolting forward as your hand made contact with his member.
- You were certain you were feeling something you shouldn't have and as though you were trying to confirm it, you felt it by rubbing it up and down, his meat slowly getting harder.
- "Dear... not there..." he whispered into your nape, lip feeling your bare neck while leaving a trail of kisses.
- You knew you should let it to but you were feeling rather 'needy', wanting more of his reactions and whimpers. So what did you do? You let go of your hand and grind your ass around his hardened cock instead.
- "Dear... what are you doing...?"
- "It feels cold if I don't snuggle myself closer to you." And that was a fucking lie.
- Just how convenient was it to have his meat ground by your ass? Was your ass freezing and in need of heating itself with his cock? If so, he wouldn't hesitate to help you.
- His hands put you still in place as he started grinding his member against you, rubbing himself with your ass? Had he lost all his feelings of shame like his brother? (Erickson slander time)
- You relished the way he needily used you, something he doesn't do that often. You could feel his cock growing larger as his breath grew raggier. You could feel him panting into your neck while his grip tightened around your waist.
- You lived for this, to see and feel your adorable lover getting all flustered over the slightest sleight of hand. Just how sensitive was he that a mere touch could turn him this needy?
- "Mmh... faster... wanna feel warmer..."
- He complied and increased his pace, lip bitten to prevent his moans from slipping out. Grunts echoed in your ears as you started rubbing your thighs together.
- "So good hm? Just like someone I remember although... who was it again?" Your mind drifted to find the identity of the person who you said was similar to him, unaware of how his jaw clenched at the mention of someone else. Who was it? Someone he had not personally had their bones crushed into pieces? Perhaps he should start checking his journal again...
- "Ahh... It's that one crazy devotee. Come to think of it, what happened to him?" Your statement did not help him at all and instead made him brim with rage and jealousy. How could someone of a low-life be allowed to grind their disgusting thing onto you?
- Oh no no, he would never be angry with you. He could only be furious with those who deemed themselves worthy of feeling you even just for the slightest. Could you imagine what happened to their fingers and anything that touched you?
- "It seemed like you were out of your mind. Even I myself could hold back so why couldn't you?"
- Unlike his usual calm or flustered facade, his pace increased and it grew rougher. He felt the need to prove himself that he was allowed to do more and better than those dust, of course, still mindful of his power to not accidentally hurt you.
- "This damn pant is in the way..."
- Also him asking you non-stop if you were OK after you two had done the deed... "Are you alright? Did I go too hard? Should I get you an ice pack? Oh no no, of course I should! Please wait!" (King of Aftercare...)
Noel (NUG/???) - Trickster
- You two were twirling around in the middle of the air with cosmic glowing below you, performing your favorite waltz while fooling around with him. The two of you jumped like a rabbit while occasionally wrestling each other like bulls.
- All were fun and joy until you locked him into the wrong position. No, it wasn't wrong, it was inconvenient. The two of you cackled before you tried to pull away from the position, hand on the place you shouldn't be.
- "Oof-" Erickson groaned the moment your palm held onto something soft of him. You paid no mind and held the soft surface even harder, making him double immediately. (RIP baby trapping)
- You immediately let go when he double, examining him closely before you realized it was his cock that you gripped earlier judging by how he was cupping it. You could have sworn you saw his soul leaving his body for a moment.
- "Did that hurt so much?" You patted his back, "Or are you just being a lil wussy?"
- Erickson shot a glare at you with a tear in one of his eyes, "Why don't you have a feel of it? Better yet, who would even enjoy this?"
- You thought to yourself, "There are though. Some of my devotees once offered themselves to be kicked right into their nuts." You were not wrong, but you were talking to the wrong person at the wrong time as well.
- "They said something like they have no use for it since they could never do me anyway." You shrugged your shoulders, grinning stupidly at his face. Your followers cared not about your gender, they only cared about you gracing them with your appearance and smile.
- Erickson gritted his teeth in annoyance, he planned on breaking their legs one by one again this time. (RIP Noel's leg)
- It wasn't like he was oblivious to everything just like how he presented himself to you. Oh no no, he was way more than that. Could you even count how many pitiful souls were sent to the Church for purification? Noel was there dusting them after Ollie wrung them like dirty cloth, squeezing blood out of their body for the Gods to drink later.
- Of course, he and Noel did not even bother to drink it. Such a disgusting thing going inside their throat? They'd rather drink the blood of other beasts.
- He had to make sure he wrung more of them again after this. His priority now was to give you a taste of your own words.
- He caged your body that was sitting despite the two of you were not on any ground. He was smart enough to tie you with his ties first just in case you threw yourself down to run away. Both your wrists were tied into one, his hand holding your wrists while his knee feel your sex.
- "I wonder what your devotees thought of you, whether they saw you as a maiden or a respectful God, they would never know how much of a whore you are." He hissed as his mouth rested on your neck, peppering it with bitemarks, drawing blood only for him to drink.
- You looked down into his crotch, eyeing him in worry.
- "Ya' think that would stop me from railing you? I ain't a wussy, baby. An effeminate would never be that wussy." He pulled you by your ankles, his clothed crotch feeling yours, "My junior is still capable of producing more Juniors after all... but ah, even if your body could not conceive, I'll find a way and fuck this body of yours until a miracle happened." (Both fem and male works...)
- His words burnt, but you knew he had always been the burning one. Always using your weakness against you but who were you to complain?
- "Get ready for lots of icepacks, no, not for me but for you~"
- He might not be able to win against Hastur in the competition of filling you up so much but that doesn't mean he did not fill you to the brim <3
Erickson (YEB/???) - Trickster
ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ:
OC used: ???, Noel, Erickson
Reader:
Fox Reader :Fox reader is a deity that appears as a Man and Woman, mostly as a Man when meeting devotees. Fox Reader's gender is questionable but is depicted as feminine. Nonetheless, their body could never conceive until a miracle happened *it happened* Unlike Cat Reader who is intersex, Fox Reader's body is questionable thoroughly. For Male Readers, I'm aware that Omega? can get pregnant? Sorry, I just really wanna write breeding shits- Pink colored text = +Jealousy
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