Latest Posts by reinam00n - Page 2

Soap: What did you do on break, Lt?

Ghost: Rode my bike and slept in an alleyway behind a bar.

Gaz: Checks out... (leaves the room)

Ghost: ...

Ghost: Want to know what I really did?

Soap: (immediately interested)

Soap: Yeah!

Ghost: (pulls out his phone)

Ghost: (shows picture of him having someone cuddled up next to him, both under a blanket, two switches in hand, both on the Stardew Valley logo screen)

Soap: (his smile falls immediately)

Soap: Wh—

Ghost: I played Stardew Valley with the missus.

Soap: The mi—?!

Ghost: Planted crops, went to the mines...

Ghost: (swipes through more pictures of them playing)

Soap: (stunned silence)

Ghost: Upgraded the house for the missus, made some town friends... (screenshots of more gameplay)

Soap: Wait—

Ghost: Even fishing. (shows a picture of him catching a legendary fish)

Ghost: The missus doesn't like fishing. (clicks his tongue) Caught them all though. (nods to himself)

Ghost: (smirks) Want to know why I'm telling you this?

Soap: (still stunned, but nods)

Ghost: Because nobody will believe you.

Ghost: (starts deleting all pictures in front of Soap)

Soap: (pained gasp)

Soap: Ye monster.

❝ in which your boyfriend satoru gojo subconsciously seeks your comfort ❞ ❦ cw ; f!reader. fluff. ❦ words ; 738

masterlist

The sound of footsteps walking through your apartment sends a jolt of fear straight up your spine, until-

“Satoru?” Blinking in confusion at the sight of your sorcerer boyfriend, you sigh in relief. Of course you know he can teleport but showing up out of the blue like this is a new level, even for him. “You scared the shit out of me,” you breathe out with a shake of your head.

“Sorry, baby.” Satoru heads straight for your living room, plopping down on your couch with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. There’s a tear in his jacket and his blindfold is nowhere to be found, which is unusual for him. Though, so is teleporting to your home without warning.

“I wasn’t expecting you so I don’t have enough food-” you pause, glancing back towards the kitchen, “-did you want to order something?”

“Sure, anything’s fine.”

You tilt your head, examining his expression though you can’t gleam anything about how he’s feeling with his eyes closed. Still, this isn’t like him. He’s too quiet. Too unenthusiastic. He didn’t even greet you.

“How does sushi sound, then? There’s this place just around the corner that just opened-”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Satoru interrupts, his tone snappy enough that you recoil slightly, blinking at him as hurt flashes across your features. You may not have been together long, but he’s never once so much as expressed unhappiness towards you. In truth, you’re not sure what to do.

Your lips purse as Gojo leans forward, raking his hands over his face before resting his head in his hands.

Oh. Oh.

You approach him slowly, taking a seat beside him on the couch. He doesn’t react, thumbs pressed to his temples. You flick the light switch behind you, letting the room go dark as you gently lay your palms over his, urging him to drop his hands from his temples as you press a kiss to his forehead.

His breath fans your forearms as you adjust to carefully lay his head in your lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the plush furniture. Running your fingers through his hair, you massage his scalp as his hair cascades over your thighs.

Comfortable silence settles between you as he relishes in the moment, his muscles gradually relaxing. The harsh furrow to his brow begins to slack, his expression going neutral as he leans his face into your body.

He didn’t think about it when he teleported here, it just felt right. He knows now it’s because he craved your comfort, your touch, and he didn’t know it yet.

“I’m so, so sorry, pretty girl,” he sighs, burying his face into your torso as he blindly reaches for your hand. He finds it with ease, a feat of his six eyes surely, and brings it to his lips, lingering in a kiss against your knuckles.

“I forgive you, Toru, it happens,” you tell him. “Headache?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he sighs, gripping your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, pretty. I’m sorry.”

“I told you I forgive you,” you tell him, a sympathetic smile on your face. His blue eyes flicker open, squinting even in the darkness of the late evening as he struggles through his headache. Still, relief swirls in his eyes when he sees the sincere look on your face.

Although he has a habit of pushing your buttons and riling you up, those are things you’ve always loved about him. You’re well aware of his status, of just how little respect is directed towards him as a person rather than an instrument of destruction. Now, looking into his gorgeous cerulean irises, this is one of those moments where you can see just how human he truly is.

“Still up for sushi?” He asks, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. His head still pounds, evidenced by the faint tension in his forehead, but it’s tolerable with you at his side.

You return his smile, nodding. “With dessert,” you insist. His grin widens and you giggle at the sight, glad to have your boyfriend back.

Large palms pull you down by the back of your neck as he kisses you softly, his lips moving with slow and pure intentions as he conveys his love for you. “Now you’re speakin’ my language,” he hums against your lips.

Satoru needs comfort sometimes too, and you’re grateful he chooses to seek that in you.

masterlist

nanami's daughter went through an identity crisis at the age of four.

you were teaching her how to write her own name. she happily exclaimed that she can do it herself, after all papa taught her all the alphabets. she clumsily jot down her supposed name and showed it to you, looking very much proud

suethart nanami

you were confused but told her this was not her name. she looked up at you with confused big doe eyes, the color the same as your husband's

"but thats what papa calls me?"

you chuckled behind your hand and explained to her what her actual name was and how it wasnt sweetheart. she looked so devastated that you almost wanted to rename her.

"no, its sweetheart!"

later that evening, before nanami could even announce he was home and put out his shoes, his daughter went to him running

"papa! whats my name??" she asked very firmly, with arms crossed and brows furrowed

he raised his eyebrow at you to see if it was another tiktok prank where he was supposed to call her 'my princess' (hed gladly do that). you just shrugged your shoulders at him, looking very much done. he fondly huffed, things are always so chaotic with you two, but he wouldnt have it any other way. he smiled softly and patted his baby's fluffy haired head

"sweetheart, at least let me put out my shoes first-"

she cheered happily and threw herself in nanamis arms. out of instinct, he held her, with all the gentleness in the world.

"see mama?? i told you my name was sweetheart!!" she then proceeded to give you a 'i told you so' look

nanami, still very much confused and not out of his shoes looked at you, asking for help. you just sighed heavily

later during dinner time, you and nanami both taught your baby about real names and pet names. she got so pouty after she learnt that her name was neither sweetheart nor baby nor honey, it was taking nanami a lot of willpower to not her rename her sweetheart and bring back her sunny smile. but you reassured her that to you guys she will forever be 'sweetheart'. she lit up at your words and proceeded to happily munch her food

nanami blinked. well that was easy.

tho she had another breakdown when she found out that your name wasnt actually 'my love'.

edit : i have a papa geto work too! pls check it out on my profile!! ty :))

jerking businessman!nanami off at his desk while he works because everything has been so monotonous and boring and you're just trying to give your coworker a little bit of reprieve from a hard day at work. he's been so short with you lately that you figured a little TLC might soothe his temper.

you're sitting beside him, pretending to go over his papers with him in case someone happens to peer in through his office door. they'd see him slightly hunched, head tilted downwards in what they assume to be reverent dedication to his work.

but really he's just trying not to drool all over his paperwork. his lips are parted, eyes already glossy with all of his pent-up needs. it's been so long since he's cum—he's just been so busy and masturbating has always been a ritual of sorts to him that requires a clear mind. so every touch from you feels electric and he can see the smile on your face in his peripheral vision.

he's a leaking mess. he has no clue how he's supposed to explain the drools of pre-cum that are smeared all over the fly of his pants where you've hooked him out of them. maybe he'll go home sick. god who is he kidding he never calls in sick even that one time his temperature was—

"kento, stop thinking."

he blinks, and glances to you. god you're so pretty, sitting innocently as if your manicured fingers arent squeezing around his cock. he wonders what you'd feel like in other senses: how warm your mouth is, how inviting you'd be if he bent you over his desk and fucked you stupid as retribution for pulling this stunt. he'd make you walk around for the rest of the day with his cum leaking out of you.

the imagery is too much. his hips stutter upwards out of his desk chair and he's opening his mouth to warn you of his climax when you suddenly lean forwards and take the tip of his cock into your mouth.

he thinks he could die. warm like he had imagined, you swirl your tongue over his tip and draw out the most intense orgasm that kento has ever had in his boring life, right there in his office. the irony isn't lost on him, but he's too busy revelling in the way you hollow your cheeks out and swallow every last drop of the cum he gives you to care.

once you've milked him for all he has, you pull back and stand up to straighten out your clothes. you still look perfect, presentable and as gorgeous as he thought you were when you walked in this morning—god the last thing he thought he'd get from you today was his load down your throat.

you lean in, press a kiss to his lips that tastes more like himself than he's ever known himself to taste, and then take a step back to look him up and down.

"you should clean yourself up," you smile. "you're a mess, mr nanami."

sweet disaster - draco malfoy

pairing: draco x f!reader

summary: you and draco are inseparable friends, but deeper feelings come to light when you're asked on a date with someone who is determined to take advantage of you.

words: 7.3k

warnings: reader is put under the influence unknowingly; unwanted advances and affection (nothing more than kissing).

You were snuggled into the edge of the largest couch in the Slytherin common room closest to the fireplace as it crackled. The warmth was welcome against the damp cold that lingered in the dungeons this time of year. You were covered in a quilted blanket reading against the soft light, but you found your attention wavering between the book in your lap and the boy next to you on the couch.

Draco Malfoy had been your closest friend for several years now. First year you had fallen into a fast and easy friendship, clicking right from the very start. You were like two halves of a whole, complimentary in ways other people didn’t quite understand. You could finish each other’s sentences, anticipate each other’s feelings, make each other laugh, even at the most nonsensical things that befuddled your other friends. You had a casual intimacy, your head resting on his shoulder, or wearing his jumpers when you were cold, him always adamant about having the seat next to you whether in class, in the Great Hall, or tonight in your respective spots on the couch.

In many ways your relationship intimidated those around you, who simply assumed that you were dating, though in reality you had never crossed that line. You didn’t even see Draco that way, truthfully… at first. But the more time that passed, and the older you had gotten, you found yourself more and more attracted to him. You were distracted, suddenly, by the way his grey eyes glinted like the cloudy night sky, the way his muscular frame filled out his suit jacket, the way he smelled, like leather and expensive cologne, and the warmth that radiated from him whenever you were pressed close together like you were right now. 

You’d lost count of the number of times you had nearly let slip how you felt, only to bite your tongue at the last minute, too afraid of rejection and of ruining the relationship you already had. But that didn’t stop you from daydreaming about twining your fingers into his or feeling his lips pressed softly against your own. You ran your fingers absentmindedly over your lips now, lost in that same thought as you stared at him when your daydream burst like a bubble as Pansy Parkinson sauntered into the common room, leaned over the couch and flung her arms around Draco.

“Pans” he acknowledged, his eyes never leaving his book as she pressed kisses to his cheek. The whole scene turned your stomach, disappointment, hurt and jealousy roiling in equal measures.

Their relationship was a new development over the last few weeks. He had never said anything to you about her, then all of a sudden she was following him around, hanging off of him, kissing him. You squeezed your eyes shut to keep them from welling up. You had been completely blindsided by their relationship and the pain in your heart felt like a fresh wound every day. What made her worth pursuing, but not you? What made her so much more attractive to him? Your mind raced with your own insecurities as you closed your book and stood to leave, unwilling and unable to sit and watch the two of them.

“You’re leaving?” Draco asked, surprised at your abrupt movements, at the lack of warmth he felt as you left his side.

“I’m going to get something to eat, good luck at practice” you said, forcing a smile on your face as you exited the common room as quickly as possible before your tears overflowed.

Draco’s eyes followed you the entire way out of the room. He was disappointed that you never wanted to hang out anymore. He missed you, but he couldn’t figure out how to tell you. Even when you were next to him, it felt like a chasm had opened up that he wasn’t able to cross. He was trying to work it out in his head as Pansy chattered in his ear… It couldn’t be Pansy, could it? He knew you weren’t her biggest fan, but did she really bother you that much? And if so, why hadn’t you said anything? It wasn’t like things were serious with Pansy. Truthfully, he didn’t even know why he had agreed to be with her in the first place. His head swirled as he stood up, pulling away from her.

“I’ve got to get to practice” he said dismissively amidst her whines of protest as he stormed out of the room.

You had absolutely no appetite, but you made your way to the Great Hall anyway, knowing most everyone would be eating dinner and hopeful your friends could help you take your mind off of things. You were nearly there when you heard someone shout your name. You turned to see Cormac McLaggen of all people waving and jogging over to you. You were in the same year and had a few classes together, but the rivalry between your houses and between him and Draco was no secret as competing captains of their quidditch teams.

“Cormac” you said cooly as he approached you.

“Y/N, you’re looking beautiful as ever” he cooed, ever the flirt. You rolled your eyes in response.

“What can I do for you?” you asked, eager to move this conversation along.

“You can go out with me tomorrow night” he said, point blank.

You couldn’t suppress the laughter that came out of your mouth. “And why would I ever do that?” you replied mockingly.

His cheeks blushed and he managed to look bashful for a moment, which caught you off guard.

“Because I fancy you. Have for a while, but I always thought you and Malfoy….” he trailed off. “Now that he’s with Pansy, I thought I’d have a shot. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’d like to get to know you, if you’d give me a chance?”

You truly could not believe the words coming out of his mouth. You had always written him off as a flirt, well aware of the trail of girls he left in his wake, but he sounded so genuine, so sincere, and just the mention of Pansy’s name had your stomach churning again and your heart beating in your chest. If Draco didn’t see you that way, then why cling to something that was never going to happen? Not to mention a small part of you reveled at the idea of Draco hearing that you were going on a date with Cormac. You knew he’d be furious.

“Fine” you agreed.

“Yeah?” Cormac said, the surprise and joy written clear across his face.

“Sure” you shrugged, a smirk on your face.

Draco was deep in his own head, trying to work out how to make things right with you, while simultaneously trying to focus on his plan for practice as he suited up in the locker room. They’d agreed to share the pitch with the Gryffindors for the evening, both teams eager to get in as much practice as possible before the Quidditch Cup and he gritted his teeth as he listened to the annoying chatter of the opposing team nearby, namely McLaggen, with his obnoxious drawl, going on about whatever girl he had managed to sack that week. Draco was just about to tune him out when he heard something that made his breath catch in his lungs.

“That’s right boys, I’m taking Y/L/N out tomorrow night. Now accepting bets on how long it will take to get her in bed. Ten galleons says we leave after one drink!” Their side of the room howled with laughter and eager cheers and jaunts.

Draco’s side of the room began to spin.

You were going out with McLaggen? Since when? And of all people, why him? Suddenly his uniform felt too tight around his neck, like he couldn’t breathe. He tugged at his collar and found that his hands were shaking. He was furious. Furious at the way McLaggen was talking about you, like you were any other girl. His mind raced with mental images of you two snuggled in a booth at the Three Broomsticks, walking hand in hand down the corridors, you wearing a jersey with his name on it and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. No, he definitely didn’t want you going out with McLaggen. But, the more he thought about it, he realized he didn’t want you going out with anyone…

You were right that spending time with friends at dinner had been a welcome distraction and you felt calmer as you trailed your way back to the common room. You were about to go to your room to study a bit before bed when the door flung open behind you and Draco marched in, his eyes scanning the room wildly before landing on you. You had never seen him this angry before, and certainly never at you as he grasped your arm firmly and pulled you into the corridor, away from the prying eyes and whispers of your fellow housemates.

“Ouch – Draco – that hurts! Let go of me! What’s the matter with you?” you demanded as you tried unsuccessfully to wiggle out of his strong grasp.

“Is this some kind of joke to you?” he asked. “Because it’s not funny in the slightest.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“McLaggen” he said, breathing heavily, “you and McLaggen.”

Oh, you realized. News travels fast.

You pulled out of his grasp and straightened up, meeting his burning gaze with your own.

“Not sure what difference it makes to you who I choose to go on a date with” you said smartly.

Draco let out an aggravated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Of course it made a difference to him. It made a massive difference to him, he realized, but he couldn’t coherently say what he wanted to say through the white-hot anger he felt pulsing through his blood, through the mental images of you with McLaggen that had plagued him all night.

“McLaggen, really?” was the only response he was able to muster.

“Oh, piss off, Draco!” you said. He didn’t have the right to be angry. He didn’t have a say in the matter. He was the one with a girlfriend to begin with.

Realizing what a mess he was making of the situation, Draco tried desperately to backpedal, to see if he could change your mind, to buy himself some time to figure all of this out.

“Look, he’s not a good guy. I heard him talking about you in the locker room, the things he was saying–”

You held up a hand in response, silencing him. “Just stop, Draco. You don’t get to do this” you said as you brushed passed him, back into the common room, leaving him alone in the corridor as he cradled his head in his hands.

You eyed yourself in the mirror the next evening, taking in your stylish sweater, short skirt, tights and heeled boots. It felt nice to be wanted, to be seen by someone, even if it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be. You felt a familiar ache in your chest as you thought briefly of Draco and how deeply you wished you were getting ready for a date with him instead. But you quickly dismissed the thought as you remembered every painful moment you’d watched him and Pansy; instead, you grabbed your coat and headed to the common room.

You tried to make your way quickly to the door when you realized Draco and nearly all of your friends were there. You could feel Draco’s eyes on you like a hex, could feel the weight of his stare, distinct from everyone else’s and you hazarded a glance his way against your better judgement. His arms were crossed and he had an angry scowl on his face. You met his eyes and amidst the palpable anger, for just a moment, you thought you could see a sparkle, a glint that said stay here, with me, please don’t do this. It nearly pulled you back in, but you turned away quickly, unwilling to acknowledge how those eyes, how this boy made you feel.

Your date went as predictably as you could have imagined. Revenge had felt sweet as you thought back to Draco’s reaction to your date, but now you were certainly paying the price. Gone was the bashful, blushing Cormac that had asked you out and in front of you was the self-flattering egotistical boy you had heard so much about. He bragged about himself relentlessly and he laid it on thick, inching closer to you every minute as you wiggled further and further away.

Your first butterbeer went down without any effort, proving to be a sweet distraction and a clear obstacle in front of your lips, which Cormac continually eyed.

“Another?” he asked eagerly, as you set down your empty glass.

“Sure” you said, smiling, looking forward to a moment of peace as he walked back to the bar, though he returned all too quickly.

“Here you are, beautiful” he said cheesily as he took a big gulp of his own.

You reached for the mug, happy to drown in the sweet liquid, but the first sip you took tasted awful: bitter and metallic, like the batch had gone bad.

“Gosh – I think something’s wrong with this” you said as you set the drink down, wincing.

“No, no I asked for another shot in it. It’s just stronger than you’re used to” Cormac said, winking as he pushed the drink back towards you.

Well, thank Merlin for that I suppose you thought as you choked down another sip and he renewed his efforts of bragging and flirting. Before long you felt a fog settle over your mind like a thick blanket. You felt yourself zoning in and out on his words, your thoughts wandering aimlessly.

“Gotta take a piss” he said abruptly, bringing you back to reality as he stood up. You looked down at your near-full drink and tried to think of a way to end this miserable date. You saw a large potted plant beside you, and took the opportunity to dump your drink there, hoping that Cormac would think you’d finished it and take the hint that it was time to leave.

Sure enough, he registered your empty glass immediately. “Whoa! I’ve got to catch up!” he said, as he chugged the last of his.

“I think I’d like to head back, if that’s alright with you?” you asked.

“Of course!” he said eagerly, rushing to help you out of the booth and wrap an arm around you possessively. You tried to create some distance between you but upon standing you realized the foggy feeling in your brain had wound its way to each of your limbs, making you sway slightly, so you relented and leaned into his strong frame.

You walked in silence for a while, your feet crunching on the frost on the ground. It was dark now and the street was illuminated only by the ambient light from the storefronts. Suddenly, Cormac surprised you by pulling you close to him in a small alleyway. He began kissing your neck, his lips working their way to the spot beneath your ear. “So beautiful” he murmured against your skin. “Never thought I’d see the day Malfoy’s girl took up an interest in me, but you are a slithery little minx aren’t you?”

His words, his lips, his everything felt so wrong and you struggled, scraping against his chest, trying to push his weight off of you fruitlessly; each of your limbs felt heavy and clumsy, uncoordinated.

“Sstop, Cormac” you managed weakly.

“What’s that?” he muttered, his hot breath making you feel feverish, flu-like.

“Sstop!” you said more forcefullyas you moved to push him off of you.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked angrily, pulling back.

“M’going backt’castle” you slurred, stumbling slightly as you made for the main road.

“No! Come back!” he said, reaching for you and grasping the back of your jacket strongly, nearly knocking you to the ground. “You can’t come out, dressed like that, then spend all night making eyes at me just to shut me down.”

“Leggo of me!” you said, your voice rising. You wiggled out of your jacket, leaving him empty handed as you forged forward into the cold. A few people walked by, muttering and eyeing Cormac suspiciously, keeping him grounded in place.

The walk back to the castle felt like it took years, like one of those dreams where you’re running but no matter how fast you move your legs you don’t make any progress. It was undeniably cold as thick snowflakes began to fall from the sky and gather at your feet. You could feel the cold on the outside of your body, but your insides were hot, like you could feel the blood running through your veins slowly, weighing down your movements, your thoughts. You could have cried when you finally reached the castle doors nearest the astronomy tower. You were shivering violently, you were uncomfortable and you were desperately confused.

If anyone would have asked, Draco would have said he was reading. He’d even brought a book with him as an alibi, though it remained unopened in his lap as he sat in the window in the astronomy tower, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and McLaggen headed back from your date.

He didn’t know why he was so determined to put himself through the punishment of seeing you with him, perhaps because he knew had to see it with his own eyes to believe it, to believe you were truly happy with him, truly enjoying yourself. He thought about how beautiful you had looked tonight, your short skirt, your rosy cheeks, and he felt his heart squeeze as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration for the thousandth time, permanently mussing his normally slicked back locks. He let his head fall back against the cold stone wall when he saw erratic movement out of the corner of his eye and leaned forward in the window to get a better glimpse. Even between the thick, heavy snowfall and the dim light he could tell it was you, could see the color of your hair and your outfit and when he realized you were alone he was on his feet and moving before he knew what he was going to say. He dashed through the door and into the gathering snow.

“Y/N!” he called as he approached you.

You were hunched over hugging your arms to your body and he realized, suddenly, that you weren’t wearing your jacket. Merlin he was going to kill McLaggen.

“What’s wrong, where’s your jacket?” he asked, frantically, pulling off his own suit jacket to wrap around your shoulders.

You looked up at him and blinked slowly, searching his face like you were trying to figure out who he was, like you’d never seen him before.

“Y/N?” he asked again, as his heart began to quicken its pace with concern. “Are you okay?”

You looked confused at his question and as you stared at him, he took the opportunity to examine you properly. Your pupils were dilated wide and he could tell you were breathing heavily and shivering at the same time. He pressed a hand to your forehead and could feel you burning up despite the freezing temperature.

“Come on, let’s get you inside, alright?” he placed an arm around you gently and you melted into his embrace as he guided you up the stairs and into an empty classroom.

“What’s gone on, then? You’re all sorts of out of it. Where’s McLaggen?” he asked.

You shook your head in reply but didn’t offer more than that as your eyes fell to the floor.

“What were you drinking?” he tried.

“Butterbeers” you whispered.

This is helpless, he thought, yet he couldn’t ignore the feeling deep in chest that something wasn't right. He knew you better than anyone, better sometimes than he knew himself, and it wasn’t like you to go out and get drunk with a lad you hardly knew, and it wasn’t like you to wander around aimlessly without a jacket in the middle of winter, something was definitely wrong.  

“Tasted funny” you murmured quietly, pulling Draco out of his thoughts.

“What?” he said, wanting to make sure he’d heard you right.

“Tasted bad, so I didn’t drink all of it.”

Draco’s heartbeat thudded harder. He had read about a potion that was circulating around bars in London, intended to disorient and take advantage of people. This couldn’t possibly be it… McLaggen wouldn’t…. would he? Draco tried frantically to remember what he’d read as you swayed precariously on your feet and he caught you just in time, pulling you into his chest, too worried about you to enjoy the sensation of you pressed against him. He remembered the potion had a distinct taste, which made it difficult to mask. Sour? Tart? Bitter? Licorice, that was it. It tasted like black licorice.

“What did it taste like?” he prompted. “Your butterbeer, did it taste like something?” he asked, praying he was wrong.

“So gross” you murmured into his chest before you turned your head to face him as he looked down at you.

“Please, darling, try to think, did it remind you of something? A food? A candy maybe?” he tried.

“Yeah” you said quietly, thoughtfully. “Bertie Botts – what’s the ones we always pick out? The black ones?”

Fuck he thought.

“Licorice” he said sullenly.

“Licorice” you agreed.

His mind raced. He was going to kill him. He was going to bloody murder McLaggen with his bare hands. He was in utter disbelief that he would do something like this, to you, the most important person in Draco's life. As he thought about it, he pulled you further into his arms and you let out a contented sigh.

He needed to focus on getting you better. While it didn’t have long term harmful effects, he knew this potion was wreaking havoc on your body. From what he remembered the effects came in two stages, the first being disorientation, sluggishness and confusion and the second being a complete loss of inhibitions, making the drinker say and do whatever was on their mind, whatever their heart desired. It was no secret that Draco was good at potions, and he was hopeful he might be able to spare you the rest of the symptoms if they hadn’t set in yet.

“C’mon then” he said, urging you towards the door. You could barely stand on your own, nearly sinking to the floor again. Without wasting a moment, Draco scooped you into his arms, bridal style, one arm around your back, the other under your legs, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he carried you back to the common room.

He moved quickly, his mind working in overdrive thinking of the ingredients he needed for the remedy. You stirred in his arms, winding your own around his neck and pulling yourself closer into him. Your proximity sent a small shiver down his spine and he unconsciously gripped you tighter.

You murmured something against his neck, your breath tingling his skin.

“Hm?” he asked, struggling to understand you.

“Smell so good, you always smell so good, Draco” you said.

He smiled to himself and let out a small laugh, blushing. “Thank you” he whispered quietly.

You giggled back and he was glad to see that you were still conscious and coherent.

You wound your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck and nuzzled into the tender spot just below his ear. He all but dropped you when he felt your warm lips against his skin, pressing kisses to his neck. He was grateful you were near the dungeons, nearly to his room, unsure how much longer he could be steady on his feet.

He tried to wiggle away, his mind and his body fighting each other in their reactions. He knew this was wrong, knew you had no idea what you were doing, but your lips were absolutely sinful against his skin, warm and wet and he couldn’t deny that the sensation stirred a reaction in every inch of his body, especially as you worked your way across his jaw, towards his lips.

He fumbled with the doorknob to his room and quickly ushered you both inside, kicking the door closed behind him as he set you down on your feet. Though he’d let go of your legs, you clung to his neck and pressed your body into his, your face inches from his. He swallowed deeply as he looked at you – you were very much coherent now, your cheeks a rosy red and your eyes, though still dilated, shimmered at him. You bit your bottom lip seductively as your eyes trailed to his lips and you leaned forward.

For half a second, he considered it. You were right there in front of him, the subject of his every waking thought for the last two days, and frankly for the last three years if he was honest, and you wanted him, that much was clear. He imagined sinking his lips to yours, feeling their wet warmth pressed against him, the velvet taste of your tongue.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, using every ounce of strength he had left to pull away from you. You let out a small groan that should not have affected him the way it did as he grasped your hips firmly and walked you to the bed.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” you asked, the pout on your face nearly bringing him to his knees.

“Not like this, not tonight” he managed, his voice husky as he kept his eyes averted from yours. “Sit” he said, gesturing to the bed.

You relented and he made his way over to a small cabinet in his room, pulling out the ingredients he needed to right this unbelievable situation.

“It’s because of Pansy, isn’t it?” you said behind him.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to find the words to say in response.

“I think she’s terrible, Draco. I hate seeing the two of you together.”

He hazarded a glance in your direction, shocked at the truth of your words. You were laying back on his bed, eyes tracing the ceiling as you spoke. This was a conversation that needed to happen, he had loads he needed to say to you, but not like this. He remained silent as he sped up his efforts, mixing the ingredients in front of him; he was grateful that you remained silent for a while.

He had nearly finished when he heard shuffling behind him. He turned to see that you had pulled off your boots and you were pulling your sweater over your head.

Merlin you were going to be the death of him.

“Whoa whoa” he said, running to your side and trying to get you to stop just as your sweater hit the floor, leaving you in a dark lace bralette that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He peeled his eyes away, searching for a shirt, a towel, a hoodie, anything he could to cover you, finding one of his hoodies on a nearby chair just as you grabbed his wrist, pulling yourself into his arms again.

“Should be me and you, Draco” you muttered against his lips. You ran your hands up his chest and then ran one palm slowly downward, across his ribs, his stomach, his belt until his hand shot out and grasped yours firmly. His heart was beating so hard in his chest, he was having trouble breathing. He swallowed deeply before taking your face firmly in his hands, as much to get your attention as to keep himself from kissing you.

“Please listen to me. I’m begging you. You are absolutely beautiful, Y/N, breathtaking. And I would truly love nothing more than to have my way with you right now. Really. You have… no idea” he said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“But you’re not okay, you drank something you shouldn’t have and you have to focus on getting better, alright? Then we can talk about… all of this.”

You looked confused and more than a little disappointed, a pout set against your lips again, but your eyes traced his face, met his own and it was like a deeper part of you understood that he was trying to protect you.

“Okay” you sighed, relenting as you took the hoodie and pulled it over your head.

“Drink this” he said, offering the remedy he had made.

You eyed him warily but took the cup he offered you, sniffing it before taking a sip.

“Tastes good” you said, smiling at him, and he felt the first sense of relief since he’d found you that night as you finished the rest eagerly.

His eyes could have been deceiving him, but he swore he could see your pupils return to normal size as you blinked slowly.

“M’tired” you murmured. “Can I sleep?” you asked, glancing at his bed.

“Of course” he said, without hesitation as he helped you crawl under the sheets. You were out in a matter of minutes and he sunk into the couch next to his bed, exhausted, as he looked at you, trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened.

It had to have been the potion. But the potion didn’t make people say or do things they didn’t mean… it removed their inhibitions, allowed them to relax and pursue the deepest desires of their hearts, things they wouldn’t say or do otherwise. Was that it then? You were really attracted to him all this time? He thought about how long he had agonized over telling you how he felt, how he didn’t want to ruin your friendship and never felt any inclination that you saw him that way. It had driven him mad and was ultimately the reason he had agreed to start dating Pansy, hoping to distract himself from something he never thought possible.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch and running his hands over his face.

There was no way he was going to be able to sleep tonight, between wanting to make sure you were okay and reliving over and over and over again the way you looked at him, the desire in your eyes, the pout on your lips and your hot breath against his neck. He pulled off his shirt and pulled on a pair of sweatpants as he settled into the couch, thinking what a perfect vision you were in his bed, your hair splayed out on the pillow, wearing his sweatshirt, your chest gently rising and falling.

Your first thought was that you felt like you were on a cloud. You were immensely comfortable and you burrowed further into the sheets that were soft and silky and warm. You sighed deeply, breathing in a familiar scent that made you smile. You rested a moment longer before your brain slowly came to life; these sheets weren’t your sheets, and that smell was… Draco?

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you tried to take in your surroundings. You were in a large four poster bed in a sea of emerald sheets; Draco’s room you thought. You looked down at your outfit, an oversized Slytherin sweatshirt you knew well; Draco’s sweatshirt. You looked to the other side of the bed and found it empty and you were surprised at how disappointed that made you feel. You stirred and turned to see Draco’s sleeping figure splayed over the small couch in his room, his frame much too large for it, making you smile. You let your eyes wander over his sleeping form, shirtless with a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips. You looked around the room to see various articles of both of your clothing strewn on the floor. Oh god you thought. Did we…? You frantically tried to remember the night before and felt a sharp ache behind your eyes.

“Ahh” you said in pain as you sat up and rubbed your eyes, seeking relief.

The noise stirred Draco out of his sleep. It took him a moment to register the scene in front of him, you, in his bed, wearing his sweatshirt, him on the couch, and it all came back to him. You were hunched over and rubbing your eyes, your face squeezed in pain and he pulled himself quickly to his feet, making his way over to you and sitting on the bed next to you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, placing a hand gingerly on the side of your head.

You dropped your hands at the feeling of his. You had always been close, but this felt like a new level of intimacy as you met his eyes and saw them clouded with concern for you. His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb tracing your cheek tenderly.

“I’m f-fine” you managed, your skin warming under his touch as you desperately tried to piece together what had happened between the Draco that had scowled at you on the way to your date and the Draco in front of you. It was like a massive black hole existed where your memories should be.

He registered the look of confusion on your face.

“Do you remember... last night?” he asked, pulling his hand back. You wanted so desperately to remember, to understand what had him looking at you like that, his closeness and affection.

You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to try but were only met with the same sharp ache behind your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t… I don’t…” you trailed off and it was silent for a moment. “Draco, did we…?” you let the question linger unfinished as you met his gaze.

His eyes widened, panicked. “No! No. I promise you. Nothing of the sort” he said, trying to reassure you. He smiled at you and you registered an uncanny pink in his cheeks as bobbed his head from side to side “…Despite your very best and most persistent efforts to the contrary.”

Now it was your turn to blush as you covered your mouth with your hands.

“WHAT?” you asked, astonished, humiliated. “Draco, I am so sorry, I—” you paused. What was there to be sorry for? The truth had clearly come out and the way he was smiling at you made you think he wasn’t unhappy to hear it. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t confused, he wasn’t demanding an explanation. In fact, he was looking at you in a way you had only dreamed of, his eyes full of tenderness as they traced your hair, your face.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for” he said quickly, his signature smile on his face.

“Okay…” you said, trying to feel out this new situation. “Are you going to tell me what happened? And why I don’t remember anything?”

His smile faded and he looked away from you. You could see his Adam’s apple bob as he took a deep breath, silent for a while.

“Draco… you’re freaking me out” you said, your voice wavering as panic rose in your chest. “W-why don’t I remember anything?”

The pain and fear in your voice squeezed his heart. “Hey, it’s alright, you’re okay, come here” he said, pulling you into his chest. You curled into him, letting your heart beat against his, like it was the most natural thing in the world, your body seeming to remember something you couldn’t as it instantly relaxed.

“I don’t want to upset you, but you need to know the truth” he murmured against your hair. You pulled back to look at him, but he didn’t let you fully out of his grasp, his arms remaining circled around you as he took a deep breath.

“McLaggen – Cormac. You went out with him. From what I can gather you were at the Three Broomsticks and had a few drinks, a few butterbeers, but he put something in them. I’d read about it, it’s a potion that’s meant to…” he grimaced. “It’s meant to take advantage of someone, to make them confused and then drop their inhibitions. It’s said to taste awful, like—”

“Licorice” you said, a memory bubbling to the surface at the tart taste on your tongue, the greedy look in Cormac’s eyes as he encroached on your personal space. Your stomach roiled at the recollection and you scrunched your face in pain, the memories coming fast like flashes of a movie in your mind: you dumping your drink in the plant, Cormac pulling you into the alleyway, his lips, the weight of his body on you. You were breathing heavily and didn’t realize that you were crying until you felt warm wetness on your cheeks.

“No, no, no” Draco muttered as he pulled you back into his arms. “M’sorry. I’m so sorry. Please tell me he didn’t hurt you, didn’t take advantage of you, please. I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.”

He let you cry as the weight of what could have been washed over you, rubbing circles into your back, murmuring calmly against your hair. “You’re safe now, it’s okay. I swear on my life I will never let anything like that happen to you, ever again.”

Soon your cries turned to ragged breaths. “It’s not your fault, Draco. You couldn’t have known, neither of us could.”

“I should have known, I told you I heard the way he was talking about you, like it was such a sure thing you were going to hook up with him.” You could feel Draco physically tense as he talked about it, every muscle taut. “I let my anger cloud my judgement. I was furious at the way he was talking about you, furious that you’d agreed to go out with him.”

You pulled back to look at him, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks. “Yeah, I gathered as much when you berated me” you said, shooting him a glare.

“I-I shouldn’t have done that. I mean, I meant it, but not in the way it came out. I wasn’t mad at you for going out with McLaggen. I was mad at you for going out with… anyone… anyone that wasn’t me…” he said, letting the truth linger in the air.

“W-what?” you said, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

He smiled shyly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve fancied you for… a long time, but I didn’t want to ruin what we already had. You’re so important to me and I realized I would take having you in my life as a friend over not having you in my life at all should my feelings not be reciprocated.”

“But you’re literally dating Pansy!?” you replied, overwhelmed, exasperated.

“Was” he said.

“What?” you replied.

“Was dating Pansy. The minute I realized what a fuck up I’d been, I broke up with her. Yesterday, actually, just before you left for your date.”

You pouted at that and the familiar look of frustration on your face made him smile as he relived the same look on your face from the night before.

“Well, I obviously didn’t know that” you said, blushing deeply.

“Obviously” he agreed.

Your eyes fell to your lap and he reached over to tangle his fingers in yours reassuringly. You took them hesitantly at first, then eagerly, the warmth from his palm sending warmth to the rest of your body as well as you smiled, blushing.

You looked up to find Draco already staring at you, his eyes sizzling with warmth as they met yours before flitting, nearly imperceptibly to your lips and suddenly you were awash with another flood of memories from the night before.

You and Draco, just centimeters apart, him breathing heavily as he glanced at your lips.

The feeling of his taut chest underneath your fingers, your palm running over his abs.

His hands firm but tender on your cheeks. His words…“You are absolutely beautiful, Y/N, breathtaking. And I would truly love nothing more than to have my way with you right now. Really. You have… no idea.”

Curling into his bed, surrounded by his scent, and warm lips against your temple as he pulled the sheets around you.

“I-I remember” you said quietly.

His eyebrows quirked up accompanying a surprised look on his face.

“And?” he said, treading carefully, not wanting to get his hopes up that last night was more than just a side effect of a potion.

“And...” you started, blushing deeply and tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, squeezing his hand as you met his eyes, shrugging bashfully, “I meant it, Draco, all of it. Not the way I imagined telling you, but gosh I’ve fancied you too, for a long time.”

He reached out with his free hand and pressed it to your forehead.

“What are you doing?” you giggled.

“Need to make sure you’re not still talking jibberish. You’re feeling okay? You mean it?” he said, moving his hand to various parts of your temple.

You reached up to pull his hand off of you. “I mean it, Draco” you said, smiling as he looked at you and laughed before the familiar look of desire crossed over his face again.

“Then please, for the love of Slytherin, can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper; his boldness and sincerity setting your body alight.

You nodded, smiling widely.

He leaned forward, closing the distance between you as his hand moved to cup your face locking you into him. Your body moved automatically, gravitating to him as his lips hovered over yours, ghosting them, tickling them with the barest touch of his own, savoring the anticipation of the satisfaction to come, the way you had wound your arms around his neck, the way you were breathing erratically against him, reveling in your desire before relenting. He kissed you sweetly, softly but deeply, with a passion that electrified every inch of your body. He pushed you backwards gently, laying you in the feathery softness of his bed as he rested his body comfortably atop you, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue, as you opened up to him immediately. Your kisses were like a dance you both already knew the steps to, effortless, beautiful, natural, your bodies so in tune to each other as your tongues tangled and he grasped you firmly against him.

He pulled away to look at you, breathing heavily and you couldn’t help the whine that escaped your lips at the lack of contact. Never wanting to disappoint you again, he pressed his lips to yours and you wound your hands into his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. You could feel him smiling against you as he pulled back again.

“Wait, wait” he said, pressing a kiss to your pout.

“What is it Draco?” you asked, breathless and impatient, his name on your kiss-swollen lips stealing his heart.

“Be mine?” he asked.

“It’s taken you long enough to realize it, but I’ve always been yours, Draco” you replied.

He hung his head in regret before meeting your eyes. “Trust me when I tell you--” he said, pressing a quick, warm kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to spend--” a deeper kiss.

“Every day” deeper still.

“Making it up to you” he said, sinking into you in earnest.

LMAOAOAOAO

nowhere else on the internet can you get content like this

imagine meeting ellie on her way back from santa barbara. she’s bloody, vest stained with red and her body overall weak after fighting abby. sure, neither of them were actually that powerful because of what they had been through, but this was different. she was struggling to walk.

and then you come along, with a weirdly vast knowledge of first aid and medicine. and you’re pulling her to the side and telling her everything will be okay and she doesn’t even know who you are. she’s so out of it that she just lets you, even if she has her switchblade in her hand the entire time.

you made her feel safe, though. the way your hands ran down her arms and gently turned them to check for bruises or injuries and the way you applied pressure to her torso? everything just made her feel more relaxed.

and you had painkillers. and that was what she absolutely needed— and you just go and give her everything she needs in one.

you’re everything she needs.

you help her on her way back to jackson. you give her a hand, a ride on the back of your horse, you make sure she’s safe from infected. she doesn’t know why you’re being so kind. but she accepts it completely. she’s exhausted. she deserves this.

but then you’re leaving. you’ve got her back to jackson, and you’ve managed to find her a place to clean up and some people to help her.

but she doesn’t want you to leave. but she has no choice. she has to let you go.

you’re a ghost. a phantom. you’re someone who was there for her in her moment of need. but you didn’t stay. you’re only that temporary relief for her.

she wants you back.

high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

pornstar!satoru gets into camming because he loves the instant gratification of people doting on him in real time.

pornstar!satoru doesn’t even charge a damn thing, he doesn’t need the money—just hooks up a lovense toy or two to his stream and lets his viewers go crazy with the remote controls.

pornstar!satoru will overstimulate himself to a point of delirium because all of his viewers deserve a turn to make him cum, right?

pornstar!satoru who gets to his breaking point, can barely speak through the cumdrunk daze he’s in, but sees your name join the chat and ask if you’re too late.

pornstar!satoru who is bawling by the time you’ve made him cum another two times—he’s cumming dry, full-body orgasms sending him so stupid that all he can say is your name.

pornstar!satoru who very quickly turns a cam session meant to include everyone into a concert of your praises—god is he whipped.

and probably sex addicted, at this point.

loser!ellie who is desperately enamored with you

loser!ellie who isn't even failing any of her classes (far from it) but still books you to tutor her

loser!ellie who spends around 2 hours getting done, convincing dina to help her iron out her usually wrinkled flannel while she fights with her hair

loser!ellie who spends the entire study session making a very poor attempt at dropping hints, laughing nervously at almost everything you say and immediately zeroing in on your body the second you look away

loser!ellie who finds your instagram one day, looking through every post and story, a hand subconsciously moving south at a particularly good picture of you at the beach

loser!ellie who eventually gets close to you and finds out you're gay, the thought that she might have a chance making her all giddy and giggly when she tells dina about it later that night

loser!ellie who deep cleans her room the night before you come over, trying to find a place to hide the comics she deems most embarrassing

loser!ellie who rifles through her vinyl collection, setting the ones that are most similar to your music taste in the front where they're visible

loser!ellie who lets you pick what games you two play when you come over, making sure to go easy on you

loser!ellie who doesn't expect you to kiss her halfway through the movie you picked out earlier, gaping at you dumbfoundedly when you pull away

loser!ellie whose body is surprisingly malleable as she allows you to push her back onto the mattress, her hands hesitantly reaching for your thighs with a innocent doe-eyed look

loser!ellie who tastes like blood when you push your tongue past her lips because she's been nervously chewing at her lips and inner cheek the entire night

loser!ellie who's so unbelievably wet when you first touch her, already soaking through her minecraft boxers purely from kissing you

loser!ellie who keeps her hands glued to the oak of her headboard when you have your face between her plush thighs, not wanting to disappoint you so early on

loser!ellie who lets you coax 3 consecutive orgasms out of her before begging for just a taste of your cunt

loser!ellie who finds herself thinking back to that night during class a few days later, staring at the back of your head in front of her like it'll help her remember the pure saccharine that was the taste of you on her tongue

loser!ellie who shows up at your place not even two weeks later, pleading for round two

sorry if this is booty cheeks y'all

i was playing block blast while writing this 😭🙏

Hear ye! I have a request my liege, how about a fem reader trying to win over viktor multiple times but fails all attempts until it is revealed he does in fact reciprocate🤭

𝐈𝐧 𝐃𝐮𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬-𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠. 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧.

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐦𝐥 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐱𝐱

You were nothing if not persistent.

Viktor was sharp, focused, and hopelessly oblivious to the fact that you were doing everything in your power to win him over. It wasn’t that he was cold—far from it. He was kind in that absentminded, half-listening way of a man too buried in his work to notice the very obvious signs of affection right in front of him.

And so, you tried. Again. And again.

Attempt #1: The Lunch Offer

Your first plan was simple: food.

You had spent hours preparing something special, something homemade, something that you knew he’d like. You weren’t the best cook, but you had carefully followed every step of the recipe, determined to impress him.

Approaching his workspace, you cleared your throat, balancing the carefully wrapped meal in your hands.

“Viktor?”

He didn’t look up. His fingers twitched slightly as he adjusted the mechanism he was working on, the dim light of the laboratory casting sharp shadows along his face. His brow was furrowed in thought, lips parted slightly as if he were mid-calculation.

You tried again.

“Viktor, I made lunch for you.”

That got his attention. He blinked, finally shifting his gaze toward you. His golden eyes flickered between you and the carefully packed meal in your hands.

“You did?”

You nodded enthusiastically, setting it down on his cluttered desk. “Yeah! I figured you probably haven’t eaten much today, so I thought I’d bring you something homemade.”

A pause. Viktor regarded the meal with mild curiosity before offering you a small, appreciative smile. “That’s thoughtful of you, thank you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Progress.

But then— Without hesitation, Viktor picked up his fork, poked at the food once, then twice, before taking a single bite. He chewed slowly, his expression unreadable.

Your fingers curled anxiously. “So? What do you think?”

“…It’s interesting,” he said diplomatically.

Your stomach dropped. “Interesting?”

He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “I appreciate the effort.”

You deflated.

“I might have miscalculated the salt,” you admitted sheepishly.

Viktor, ever the gentleman, coughed lightly. “Ah, yes. A bit… potent.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Okay, okay, I get it! It’s bad, isn’t it?”

He chuckled, nudging the plate slightly away but still offering you a kind smile. “Not bad. Just… an acquired taste.”

You groaned. First attempt: failure.

Attempt #2: The Book Gift

You knew Viktor loved books. It was one of the few things that could pull his attention away from his work—albeit briefly.

So, you found a rare book on Hextech theories and wrapped it neatly, tying a ribbon around it for good measure.

You waited until he was in a rare moment of relaxation—well, as close to relaxation as Viktor ever got. He was seated at his desk, flipping through his notes with a cup of tea beside him.

Perfect timing.

“Viktor,” you called softly, holding out the book.

He turned, glancing at you before his gaze landed on the package in your hands. “What’s this?”

“A gift,” you said, smiling. “I thought you might like it.”

His brow furrowed slightly, curiosity shining in his eyes as he reached for the book. He unwrapped it carefully, the ribbon slipping off with ease. When he saw the title, his lips parted in surprise.

“You found this?”

You grinned. “I did! It took some effort, but I figured you’d love it.”

For a moment, he seemed genuinely touched. His fingers traced the spine of the book as he flipped through the first few pages, skimming the text.

“Oh, this is the outdated version.”

Your smile froze. “…What?”

Viktor tilted his head slightly, scanning the pages. “This edition was published before Heimerdinger updated his findings on Hextech decay rates. The later editions corrected a few errors in the theory, particularly in chapters three and five.”

You stared.

He looked up, noticing your expression. “…Not that I don’t appreciate it!” he added quickly. “It’s a thoughtful gift, truly. I will still read it.”

You sighed dramatically. “I was trying to impress you, you know.”

Viktor blinked. “Impress me?”

“Yes! And instead, I gave you an outdated book!”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It’s not about the edition. It’s the effort that counts.”

You folded your arms. “So I failed, huh?”

His lips quirked up. “Not at all. You are very persistent.”

Not exactly the answer you wanted, but you supposed it wasn’t a complete loss.

Attempt #3: The Stargazing Invitation

This time, you were going for romance.

You had set up a small spot on the Academy’s rooftop, a cozy little corner with blankets, pillows, and even a small lantern to give off a warm glow. The sky was clear, the stars bright. It was the perfect atmosphere.

Now all you needed was Viktor.

Dragging him away from his work had been no easy task. He had resisted at first, insisting he had equations to finish and calibrations to check, but you had practically pulled him by the arm, determined.

When you finally reached the rooftop, you gestured grandly. “Tada!”

Viktor looked around, brow raised. “…You brought me here to sit on the ground?”

You huffed. “Not just sit—stargaze. Relax. Take a break.”

He hesitated before carefully lowering himself onto the blankets. His cane rested beside him as he leaned back, gaze flickering toward the night sky.

You watched him closely. “What do you think?”

He was quiet for a long moment, then finally spoke. “…It’s peaceful.”

Success!

Encouraged, you scooted closer. “I thought you could use a moment to breathe. You work too hard.”

Viktor hummed, seemingly considering your words. “Perhaps you are right.”

You turned your head to look at him, the glow of the lantern casting soft shadows along his sharp features. He looked beautiful like this—lost in thought, his golden eyes reflecting the starlight.

Heart pounding, you gathered your courage. “Viktor… can I ask you something?”

He glanced at you, intrigued. “Of course.”

You swallowed. “Have you ever… thought about taking a break? Not just from work, but from everything. Spending time with someone. Maybe… me?”

Viktor blinked.

Then, with all the grace of a man absolutely oblivious—

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to burden you with that,” he said sincerely.

You stared.

He continued, oblivious to the weight of your question. “My work is demanding, and I would not want you to feel neglected. Relationships require time and attention, and I would hate for you to be disappointed.”

You nearly groaned out loud.

For a man as brilliant as Viktor, he could be painfully clueless.

With a resigned sigh, you flopped back onto the blanket, staring up at the stars. Another attempt, another failure.

—

You weren’t expecting much when you walked into the lab that evening.

In fact, you were expecting nothing at all.

After weeks of trying—pouring your heart into homemade meals, thoughtful gifts, and starry rooftop nights—you had resigned yourself to the truth: Viktor either didn’t notice your feelings, or he didn’t want to notice them.

And honestly? You were tired.

You had been visiting him less and less, not completely avoiding him, but pulling back just enough to protect yourself. You still cared—you would always care—but unrequited love wasn’t something you could keep torturing yourself with.

So when you stepped into the lab that night, you told yourself you were just here for work. Nothing else.

Jayce and Viktor were deep in conversation when you entered. Jayce stood by Viktor’s desk, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on his lips. Viktor, seated, was scribbling something furiously in his notebook, barely acknowledging his friend’s presence.

They both turned when they saw you.

“Oh, hey!” Jayce greeted, his usual easy-going grin in place. “Haven’t seen you around much lately.”

Viktor’s head snapped up so fast you almost thought he hurt himself. His eyes flickered to you, studying your expression for a fraction of a second before returning to his notes.

You forced a small smile, holding up a stack of reports. “Just dropping these off.”

You moved to place them on Viktor’s desk, careful not to linger, but Jayce’s next words stopped you in your tracks.

“You know,” he mused, voice dripping with playful amusement, “for someone who constantly complains when she’s not around, you sure don’t act like it, Vik.”

Silence.

The kind of silence that immediately thickened the air, made it heavy, charged.

Your brain took a full three seconds to register what Jayce had just said.

You blinked. “Wait. What?”

Viktor froze.

His pen, mid-stroke, halted against the page. His entire body went rigid, his fingers tightening around the notebook in his lap.

Jayce, bless his completely oblivious soul, continued without a care in the world. “Yeah, seriously. Every time you’re not here, he—”

“Jayce.”

Viktor’s voice cut through the air like a knife. Low. Sharp. Warning.

Jayce finally seemed to sense the weight of the situation. He looked at Viktor, then at you, then back at Viktor, realization dawning like a slow-motion catastrophe.

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Ohhh.”

You barely heard him. Your entire focus was on Viktor, who was currently staring a hole into his notebook as if he could will the conversation out of existence. His grip on his pen was so tight you thought it might snap in half.

You took a step closer. “Viktor,” you started carefully, “is that true?”

He didn’t answer. Your stomach twisted.

Jayce shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh—”

“Leave.”

It was barely more than a breath, but Jayce immediately straightened. “Yeah. Yep. That’s my cue. I am—definitely—leaving.”

And then, with the speed of a man fleeing imminent death, he was gone.

The door shut behind him, leaving you alone with Viktor.

And still—he didn’t look at you.

You took a slow breath, willing your voice to stay steady. “Viktor.”

Nothing.

So you took another step closer, moving carefully, deliberately, until you were standing directly beside him. Close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was clenched just a little too tight.

“…Is it true?” you asked again, quieter this time.

A long, heavy pause.

Then—finally—he exhaled. A slow, controlled breath, like he was preparing for something.

“…Yes.”

Your heart stuttered.

He still didn’t look at you. His eyes remained fixed on the desk, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against his notebook.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your pulse was hammering in your ears. “Then why—?”

“Because it is irrelevant.”

That caught you off guard. “What?”

Viktor let out a quiet, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You deserve someone who is not married to his work. Someone who can give you their full attention, not just stolen moments between projects.”

Your chest ached. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

He went still.

Slowly—hesitantly—he finally turned to look at you.

His golden eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were guarded. Careful. But beneath that, beneath the walls he so carefully constructed, there was something else.

Something hesitant. Something fragile.

Something real.

“…You would grow tired of me,” he said quietly. “Of the late nights. Of the exhaustion. Of the way I forget to eat unless someone reminds me.”

You stared at him, barely able to breathe. “Viktor—”

“I am not good at this,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “I do not know how to—” He stopped, inhaled sharply, then exhaled again. “I do not know how to be what you need.”

Something in your chest cracked open.

You reached for his hand before he could pull away. Your fingers brushed against his—warm, steady, certain.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You just have to be you.”

Viktor stared at your intertwined fingers like they were some kind of impossible equation.

Like he wanted to believe you, but didn’t quite know how.

“…And if I disappoint you?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath.

You squeezed his hand. “Then I’ll let you know. And we’ll figure it out. Together.”

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to argue. But for once—for once—he didn’t.

Instead, after a long, drawn-out moment, he simply closed his fingers around yours.

Not tightly. Not desperately.

Just enough.

A quiet, tentative acceptance.

“…You are remarkably persistent,” he murmured, the smallest, softest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Viktor shook his head, exhaling something that almost sounded like a chuckle. “Jayce is going to be insufferable about this.”

You grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

And then—finally, finally—Viktor let himself relax.

BREAKING NEWS ★ local 24yo loser engages in panty theft

jayce talis has a problem.

he can’t stop popping a hard on whenever you do some remotely attractive to him… which is nearly everything.

wear a short skirt and have to bend down to pick something else, flashing your cheeky cut panties? boner.

recite a passage of knowledge with the utmost passion? boner.

get within ten feet of jayce? boner.

at first, he could handle it; simply wait until he got home to address the conundrum. however, as your friendship grow closer and closer, his decorum wavers and wavers until—

fist wrapped snug around his cock, jayce finds himself jerking off in your bathroom; he strokes his length in quick succession, 'fwap! fwap!' echoing off the walls.

you and him were studying earlier when you excused yourself to grab a snack from the kitchen. in your absence, jayce rose from your bed and stepped towards the door to use the restroom, his hip bumping into your laundry basket. it fell to the carpeted floor with a soft thud and its contents spilled from the opening. jayce tried to clean it up and hastily shoved dirty laundry back into the hamper, but something grabbed his attention.

a pair of baby pink panties.

jayce fucks himself raw with his calloused hand, as he inhales the scent of your cunt off the used panties. he fantasizes of the times you worn this pair, is this the pair you had on when you flashed him by mistake in the library? fuck! your smell is overwhelming and sends waves of arousal throughout jayce's muscled body. precum drips onto his hand and lubes up his shaft, as jayce presses his nose deeper into the pair's crotch.

he imagines you riding his face, allowing him to savor the sweet slick and heat of your pussy. jayce would do a great job eating you out, he promises! he would try you like the princess you are. his strokes become more erratic and needy, as jayce approaches orgasm; he muffles his moans by stuffing the panties in his mouth, climaxing shamelessly on his hand and onto the porcelain of the sink counter.

what a perverted man, there's no going back for jayce talis; he's now too eager to stop himself from engaging in such debauchery moving forward.

GRYFFINDOR BOYS

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

FRED WEASLEY

mad woman

cupid crystals

a special friend

recovering a life

deep breath

strawberry letters

date after date

SIRIUS BLACK

complimentary quills

just a natural fact

brighten your days

black dog neighbour

padfoot

HARRY POTTER

harry potter and the long-lost beach episode

harry potter and the late-night company

potter love

gifts

green-eyed idiot

romancing professor potter

CHARLIE WEASLEY

creative writing class

favourites

taming the dragon tamer

lucky charm

let's pretend

GEORGE WEASLEY

heart-to-heart chase

beating a weasley

well-meaning deceit

see you again

it's definitely you

coming home

can’t help but think about

Men who look like they haven’t felt the touch of a woman. (they haven’t) They develop a crush on you. Men who look at you with doe eyes, ready to please. Men who will do anything if you asked. Men who shiver when you whisper in their ear. It can be anything, but the feeling of you getting close— fuck they’re goners. Men who imagine you in ungodly ways, all of this new to them. Men who are on the verge of crying because they are so sexually frustrated.

Men who still can’t believe how someone like them (shy, submissive, a stuttering mess) managed to pull someone as confident and bold as you.

Men who whimper when you finally touch them. Guttural grunts and moans, whines and whimpers— all a part of the melody they let out just for you. Men who look up at you with expectant eyes, wanting–no needing you to praise them. We’ve already established that they love your voice, so throw in a ‘good boy’ or ‘you did so good baby’ and their brain stops functioning.

──────────────────

I don't want it if it ain't your touch - West Side // Ariana Grande

I’m in class rn and all i can think about is this.

Ethan Landry, Sub!Miguel O’Hara, Simon Aumar, Harry Potter, Yuta Okkotsu, Tyler Galpin, Bucky Barnes +your favs!

𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢.

can't stop imagining how it'd feel to bounce on ellie's strap. she lets you preside, and prepares herself: waiting with a stupid grin and an open lap, she spits in her palm with audible ejection. “ptuh!” the glob is balled into a fist, then slathered down the forest-green length of her cock, adding dull shine to the veins. she observes, with indolent, low-lidded eyes, as you bring a leg over and your bare form melts with immediate ease; her lap is warm; a sigh lulls out. those thigh muscles tense under the pressure—the soft pressure of you pinning her further into the couch cushion.

she stares up and chuckles, “gonna put it in?” the obvious question. affirming it made her heart rush and her flesh whir with anticipation—she paws your waist to calm it, or attempt to. you shift through the gaps of her grip, replacing it with your hips that come up and angle above that tip. “am i going to?” you whisper, a delayed reply. god, you ruin this girl.

ellie shudders, tortured, her freckled cheeks flushed in red, watching the length disappear inside your hole. a long moan pushes her throat open. “ohh—fuck babe.” she comprehends how wet you true-as-hell are when her cock slides out, and your folds drag along them, painting a filthier gloss in their wake. she has to swallow herself. “fuck,” biting her lip and cursing again—since it's all she seems to remember; that single syllable. “how the fuck can you take all that?” the girl under you behaves like a congregant, and you, the god. the sounds of flesh slapping together fill the room before she can match your momentum. hurried hands travel your curves, grope your thighs and pull the flesh, spreading your cunt to make it simple; she fucks you right back—encouraged. “so f-fuckin' ho-ot babe. uhn-uh-uh, fuck!” not to mention: her cunt throbbing at the sight of your bouncing tits, and yours at hers, lined up with her needless thrusts. you're eager to shut her loud mouth with them.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭.

you know what? Fuck you. *turns your strong and stoic and serious character into a crying, traumatized, whimpering, curled up mess in the floor*

needy!drunk!gojo satoru x gn reader-based off this post

synopsis: gojo is a lightweight, vowed to sobriety to keep whatever bit of shame he has left to his name. but he really can't help but take a few shots when he sees you doing the same.

warnings: sub gojo, gn dom reader, both reader and gojo are drunk, gojo's a lightweight, handjob, semi-public sex, he cries-like a lot, he also had nipple piercings bc i couldn't help myself, reader's kinda a hoe, feelings, think that's it

The warm press of hands against your hips is what makes you gasp. The soft touch of lips traced over your throat is what makes your head spin.

What a delightful feeling. 

What a human desire. 

“Touch me.” 

The room spins around you, the warm feeling of being held making you sigh, leaning into it. The scent of him, the greedy claiming of his presence in your mind. So selfish. Of him not to think of the effect that this has on you. To not care about the war going on in your mind. 

“Touch me, please?” A whine this time. A meek sound, spilling from his lips, making your body light up in return. 

“Satoru,” He practically purrs at his name on your lips. Pathetic. How easily riled up he is. How easily you’re able to make his knees feel weak. How much he loves the sound of your lips forming his name.

“Mmmm, say it again.”His nose sweeps delicately over your neck, working over a heavy sigh as he tries not to get drunk on the smell of your shampoo. Or more drunk than he already is, that is. 

“Your name?” You mutter slowly. 

“Yeah….” His words have been gradually slurring over the span of the night, with the amount of shots he’s taken, with the amount of drinks he’s had. With the inches of space between you closing until there’s nothing between you but the thin layer of clothing that does nothing to hide the bulge he shamelessly presses against you.

Even so, you know that he's always been far beyond measures of shame, but this is a whole new level, the way he continues to press his body impossibly closer to yours, his broad chest against your shoulders, his hips canting against you. 

You’ve always hated how he’s been taller than you, his incessant teasing when he throws you over his shoulder as you yell and pound on his back. He takes advantage of it all too often.

You don’t mind now.

“Why, Satoru?” Maybe you’re cruel for the teasing, for liking your friend’s reactions all too much. Shivering, nearly violently, throbbing against your lower back. 

He whines, “Sounds so…-so much better when you say it. Makes me wanna just…”

His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol and you’re still not entirely sure how Shoko and Suguru managed to get him to break his vow of sobriety. Not when you’d seen him turning them down for the first bit of the night.

The next time you saw him he was getting dragged along by you, gulping down whatever liquids you shoved into his hands. 

With his feverish hands tracing up your body and his sinful hips pressing against yours. Muttering about how he wanted you and needed you, whispering about things he'd never have said in the harsh reality of day, but was that not the beauty of getting intoxicated beyond belief?

“Hmm? Just what?” 

He simpers, “Wan’ you to touch me, play with me, like I’m just a toy for you~” He grinds slowly and you wish you could kiss him. Kiss him until he’s breathless and red and can’t remember his own name. Dazed and dizzy and muttering gibberish while loosely gripping onto you. 

You don’t think if you’d even have to kiss him to do that right now, but the taste of his perfectly pink lips would just be an added pleasure to this delectable mix.

But you shouldn’t. And you won’t.

Not because he’s your friend and this will surely be crossing some unspoken line.

Or because it’ll throw off the axis of your entire friend group. You'd never let that stop you before. And you wouldn’t let something like that stop you now. Not when you've clumsily pressed your lips to Shoko’s, high out of your mind and hidden under the blanket of dark nights. Or when you let your hands wander along the lengths of Suguru’s skin, promising to make him feel things he’d never felt before. 

Not because Satoru Gojo is one of your best friends.

But because Satoru Gojo is currently drunk and so are you. And despite the fact that you’re practically drowning in the warmth of alcohol and all that is Satoru Gojo, you want whatever you do with him to mean something-be something. Not just a clumsy night of drunken mistakes and hazy flashes, not something you’ll forget in the morning and agree to never speak of again.

He’s too…important for you to treat him like that. And you’re too selfish to let anything you do to him to mean anything but the fact that he would be yours. But he’s not yours. And you’re not his. And all this thinking is only making a steady ache build behind your temples.

You sigh, twisting around in his arms. Blue eyes blinking back at you, slowly searching over yours and fuck, his lips are so kissable. Pink and plump, trapped between his too white teeth.

“Let’s get you back to Shoko and Suguru, they’ll take you home and make sure you don’t kill yourself.” You’re not entirely sure where they went or why they’ve left the two of you behind, all alone where they'd know neither of you were in the right mind to make good choices.

 “No,” He shakes his head, white hair tossing, ruffled and mussed from a night of clinging to you like this. Far too close for comfort though you still couldn’t bring yourself to pry him off.  “No, n-no, don’t wan’you  to leave…” 

You begin to tug him off either way. He’s not sane enough to make decisions for himself and you don’t think you are either. “C’mon baby, let’s go find your friends.”

He shudders and grips your hand, refusing to move an inch. Tears pool in his eyes and your jaw hardens.

You sigh. You didn’t know why you thought this was a fight you’d win either way. It was a losing game trying to argue with Satoru. His lips wobble and you can feel your resolve withering away by the second. Tearing down every single defence you put up around, being ripped away by him and his stupid tears as if they were paper. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispers and he looks pathetic but you know you’ll give in to him if he asks you to. “Don’t leave me…please.”

You cup his cheek and he purrs, melting into the touch as if he were a cat, pushing into you for more attention. Basking in your attention as you sweep his tears away with your thumb, letting him close his eyes and pull you into the soft cushioning of a booth. 

You feel heady or maybe it’s the alcohol talking. More tears roll down his cheeks, tracking along the slopes of his flushed face. Crystalline and sacred and you realize with a twist in the pit of your stomach that it’s arousing.

The sight of him. His sweat-soaked skin and his eyes big and glassy. And the fragile mask he’s worked so hard to keep up deteriorating beneath your very eyes, each tear breaking and cracking apart the image of the powerful man he claims to be.

A crumpled facade of a God into a something more, something divine and corrupt, something vulnerable and weak and so very human in your arms, falling apart by a mere touch.

Maybe you’re more fucked up than you realized. Maybe you’re just horny. Maybe because it’s him. And he’s Satoru Gojo and everything about him is perfect. Powerful. Transcendent. A God against humans, finally falling apart like this, before you, ready to fall to his knees. Perhaps he was always meant to.

“Don’t wanna be alone…don’t wanna…ngh~” 

His hips thrust up, a whiny gasp working past his lips. He pants as if he’s run a marathon and you want to do such delectably sinful things to him and you’re sure you could do them all and more and he’d only beg and plead for more.

Perhaps…

“Kiss me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, you wonder if he can hear with how loud it is. “Satoru,”

He whines and grinds and you moan. And it’s a losing battle.

“Shut up,” he insists, hand cupping the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair, almost obsessively. “Shut up and just kiss me.”

“You know we can’t. You-“

“I, am perfectly fine.” His words are a pant, a plea, whispered with a kind of reverence of a worshipper to a god. “Just kiss me, fuck me. Use me,” white eyelashes flutter, blue looking all the bluer rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Use me until you’re bored of me, until there’s nothing left-i don’t care.” He breathes, desperate and pleading and looking like he’s ready to get down on his damn knees on the dirty sticky floor. “Just-please.”

A losing fucking battle. 

Maybe it always was. Trying to keep your hands off him, now, you realized it was like setting a treat on a dogs nose and telling them to wait. A crazy amount self control with the eventual prize just in sight. 

All you can think as you cup his cheeks, flushed and wet from tears, warm against your hands is how fucking pretty he is. How you want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Fuck, Satoru,” you mutter and he moans deep and appreciatively and then you’re pulling him in to slide your lips against his.

 And now all you can think about is how much of a dumbass you are for not doing this sooner.

He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes-when he had one you don’t know but you do know that it’s the most intoxicating mix you’ve ever encountered. You feel like you’re floating, high off his taste and his moans; like he’s a drug and you’re the addict, injecting him straight into the vein. 

It's far from elegant and he’s not perfect at it in the way you’d expect from a man as beautiful as him-godhood hasn’t blessed him in every aspect. But he’s desperate and he's eager to take everything you give, mewling against your lips. 

He’s so needy and it's crazy the way it sends you into a sort of reverie. His hands gripping your hips hard, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he’s hoping you’re real and not a apparition of drunken hysteria. He pulls you closer, as if you could get close enough that no one could find where you ended and he started, that you might be able to meld into one.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same sentiment. If you didn’t try your hardest to do the exact same; nails pressing into his skin, making him whine as you tilted his head back and slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring, feeling, taking, using. 

Just like he told you to do.

He vibrates against you, nearly shaking with choked noises. He mutters soundless words, each and every one swallowed by you as soon as they’re spoken. Pleas and prayers, worships and praises. 

You’d show him what real ascension felt like.

You probably should be embarrassed, or at the very least shameful to be putting on such a show in front of what you know are watching eyes. But you know that Gojo is far past shame at this point and you're too enamoured by the beauty that is Satoru Gojo clinging to you like he’s about to break.

To be honest, you can't find it in yourself to give a shit about any of them. About anything but him, focusing your attention on devouring him whole as he shatters, ready to catch every piece as they fall into your waiting hands. No matter if the shards rip apart your skin and leave you a bloody mangled mess.

You break away first, fighting a smile at his whine as you pull away from him, panting. 

He looks unravelled, messy. His usual flirty facade lost to pleasure. His watery eyes and heartbroken whines gone as well. Overwhelmed by swollen lips and gasps to make up for lost air. A blush like he’s just realized where he is, burying his face into your neck to hide from the probing eyes. To whisper, "You're too good at that, you know?.”

You bark a laugh and he nuzzles into your skin. 

And then you’re redirecting him to your lips again.

In a flurry of hands and lips, messy steps and you’re clumsily stumbling into the bathroom. Quickly, Satoru is shoved against the door, fingers fumbling for the lock.

Your lips find his neck, fluttering a barrage of open-mouthed kisses over the heated skin, dragging your tongue along his thrumming heartbeat. 

He whines and he begs, muttering nonsense that makes it to your ears but not to your head as you hum against him. Slender fingers knit through your hair, holding you close to him, pleading for you to never leave him.

“Touch me, touch me, touch me.” He repeats, slurred and slow, his eyes drooped shut, his voice husky with want, with lust and everything he’s been just barely repressing all this time.

But you've only ever been a slave to his desires.

So you respond in tenfold, nipping and sucking, leaving evidence that you've been here, staking a claim that doesn't exist and maybe never will but for tonight maybe you can play pretend.

Because he keens when your teeth sink into his skin and his back arches, pressing evidence of his wanton yearnings against you like you might devour him whole.

Like he wants you to.

He quieter when he whispers something that could change everything. “Love me?”

Your heart pounds in your chest but you’d never turn him down. 

Fingers deftly undo the buttons on his tight-fitting button up, revealing porcelain-like skin underneath. His nipples are hard and pink and fucking pierced. 

He gasps when you touch them, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger.

And you've never been particularly mean but you can make an exception for the God in front of you, leaving him to tortuous touches all while he throbs and thrusts into nothing but the fabric of his too-tight pants, whining from the stimulation that's all too little.

He's been begging for this all night. Whispering dirty words like a little tease, like a shameless slut.

He got you all riled up and for that you think that he should take his own share of teasing.

For retribution, for your own piece of mind and the pleasure it is to watch him squirm against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and tearstained and begging in small breathless whimpers barely over a whisper.

But you've never been able to resist him long, not then, not now and not ever.

Your hand finally reaches for his waistband, his body shivering with the feeling of your fingers dipping onto hot, untouched skin.

But he stops you.

His hand, large and pale landing over your own in a quick moment of lucidity.

His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"

You met his vulnerability with a promise because you could never leave him with any less. "Yes," your words a whispered caress, a undying oath in itself, a vow that you'd take beyond this in whatever may happen.

Your lips brush over his ear, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, dragging a ruinous moan from deep in his throat.

"I promise, I will."

And your hand is wrapping around him, hot and wet and hard, all for you. Just for you. And his head is turned off, just sensations and feeling and you.

Just you.

"F-fuck, yes, please," so broken, fragile almost as ironic as it is. "Yes, pl-please, feels so go-good."

He doesn't last long and you don't know if it's from all the teasing you've administered or from how long he's been worked up for.

But you rather like the thought of him being sensitive enough that your voice and a few strokes is enough to bring him to the edge.

To have him pulsing in your hand while his arms wrap around your shoulders, blunt nails scraping into you skin as his hips thrust with reckless abandon.

His body quivering with pleasure as your hand forms a loose hole for him to fuck into, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of his dick.

"Please, please I need it, need it so bad," And he has no right sounding this good, looking this good while fucking into your hand like a goddamn dog. "Need it more than anything."

He always has been one for dramatics.

His head falls back against the wall, throat bobbing with the moan deep in his throat, fuck how the marks of your teeth stand out on the pale skin of his neck. Your lips permanent on his body for now, forever maybe if he'll let you keep replacing them.

"Fuck, Satoru," You free hand threads through his head, pushing his lips to meet yours, messy and slopping as he arches against you, hips thrusting erratically to match your pace. Keening when you nip at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, nails scratching at his scalp sending tingles down every part of his body.

He breaks away with a gasp and a cry when and only when he absolutely has to, eyes shining and chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.

And he's crying. And he's beautiful.

More beautiful than anyone or anything you've ever seen in your life.

"Shit, I'm close, m' so fuckin' close-!"

You’re half out of your mind and you couldn’t feel more sane. Like this was meant to happen-like he was meant to be yours. 

"Don' stop, please don't stop," he gasps, like you'd ever think about it, like you'd could even if you wanted to.

“Satoru,” And he shakes.

“Satoru,” And he sobs.

“Satoru,” And he breaks, head falling back as if in prayer, a finger pushing his chin up, clashing against a higher power he didn't think possible.

“My one and only Satoru.” Soft and sweet and just for him and only him. And he’s gone.

Ropes of cum spurt out, rope after rope, covering your hand and the floor. Covering his thighs and his stomach in a mess.

Everything feels fuzzy and his cheeks are pink. A stupid grin crossing his face as he melts, boneless in your arms. "I love you." He mutters, distantly, foggily.

Perhaps somewhere beneath the haze he thinks that maybe you've said the same back. But he isn't quite sure anymore. He needs to be sure.

Slowly, he's lowered onto the floor into a sitting position. The tile is cold against his bare skin but it's okay because you're still caressing him, holding his face in your hand, thumb wiping at his tears.

"You love me right?"

You leave for moment and a whines at the loss of you pressed against him. Even if it's only for a few seconds he feels lonely and empty without your touch.

But then you're back and you're wiping him down with a wet towel, cleaning off his skin so gently, as if he's made of glass of porcelain, like he something to be cherished and taken care of.

"Hey pretty boy, you good?" He recognizes your voice even throughout the cloud in his mind. He nods and you smile and he's melting all over again.

"Do you love me?"

You roll your eyes and for an awful second he thinks that maybe you're going to say no. But then you're pushing the hair off his forehead and kissing him so fucking gently he thinks he'll cry.

"I do love you Satoru."

And his heart is bursting-he swears it is, it's beating so fast and so hard he's absolutely sure that you can hear it and that the quiet laughs escaping your pretty lips is because you can tell how dumbly in love with you he is.

But that doesn't matter.

Because right now he's normal person and you're a normal person and nothing else will matter but the fact that he's your's now.

"I love you too, y'know?" He mumbles.

You kiss him again, and again, and again. On his forehead and his temples, his cheeks and the tip of his nose and each of his eyelids. You kiss everywhere on his face until his lips are pouted out and he lets out a little whine of frustration.

And then you kiss his lips. Barely a peck, too fast and short for his taste but he doesn't have time to complain as you pull him off the floor.

“C’mon pretty boy, let me bring you home.”

“Mmm,” He doesn’t move, boneless against you. “Will you fuck me again?”

You laugh, soft. “Like I’d be able to resist you.”

A man who yearns is a man who earns

Wolfstar X fem!reader

Summary - In which Remus and Sirius quietly ( not really) yearn for the reader

Warnings : none, (delusional Sirius), shy reader I guess

A//N My first Wolfstar fic !

Word count: 1.2k

“ I want her so bad” Sirius groans softly watching as you laugh along with Lily and Marlene. Remus who had been reading had promptly stopped as he had watched his boyfriend look at the girl who they had both been crushing on as of late. You were in the same year as them, a beautiful and smart Ravenclaw who just so happened to waltz in the boys life and change them forever.

“If you keep starting at her she’ll think you’re a creep” Remus tells his boyfriend

“She’ll think about me !” Sirius gasps, Remus shakes his head at his gasp

“ You really need to stop”

“Why won’t she look at us “ Whines Sirius sitting next down next to Remus who was quick to wrap his arm around his waist and pull him closer.

“Don’t know love” He plants a kiss on his neck making Sirius shiver.

“Do you think she even knows our names” The young Gryffindor pouts.

In all honesty Y/N did know Remus and Sirius, how could she not? The famous group, the marauders. Known for pulling pranks and bringing fun to Hogwarts, it was hard to miss such a group.

Remus and Sirius especially, god were they gorgeous. Remus with his beautiful brown eyes that seemed to be lit by the sun itself, his curly hair that was always curled to perfection, his old soul which was so kind and oh Merlin’s beard was he so smart. The few classes she had with him where she would hear him answer the professors question’s correctly and even sometimes add even more information made her Ravenclaw heart swoon.

Sirius Black, oh Sirius Black. He captivated everyone’s heart. His unique grey eyes and long hair, and that smile. That Sirius Black smile. Charming is what he is, suave with his words having anyone flustered and blushing when Sirius would flirt with them. Everyone wanted him or wanted to be him. But only Remus Lupin was lucky enough to have a slice of whatever Sirius was offering but god did he want top give a piece to you.

You the beautiful creature who captured their hearts when Lily walked into the common room that fateful day. You both were working on a project for Potions. Both of them were awestruck by you. Swearing they had never seen someone as beautiful as you. They knew then and there that they wanted you, the question was how?

It seemed like any time that they wanted to see you, you were scurrying away, off to the library, your dorm or somewhere else where they could not reach you.

One time when Sirius was walking with James after heading back from quidditch practice. Then a sudden figure zoomed right past them, it was you. Sirius blinked and he turned to look at you as you left, he wanted to say something but by gods were you quick. As you turned the corner and disappearing from his sight he promptly fell to his knees.

“Come back my love PLE-“

As you had turned the corner, you stopped swearing that you had heard something

“Must of been the wind” you muttered to yourself.

It was not in fact the wind but none other than Sirius Black dramatically on his knees clutching his chest, the other hand reaching out for you.

“Mate get up this is embarrassing” James muttered

Truth is- you’re painfully shy. Having a crush on Remus Lupin and Sirius Black the it couple right next to Lily and James was painful, for so many reasons. One being the most obvious, they’re both together and you were no home wrecker. Two you could not imagine even being friends with them. They were so different from you, in a good way.

While you were more quiet and reserved, staying in your dorm to read and study. You enjoyed your me time more than anything. Parties at Hogwarts were something you rarely attended, given the fact that you didn’t drink or dance. The few times you did go was because a friend’s or Lily had dragged you. You would see both boys at these parties and they were the life of the party there was no way they would look over at you and want you, at least that’s what you’ve told yourself thus far.

It was far from the truth. Remus and Sirius both yearned for you silently or at least remus did, Sirisu was alwasy loud about those he cared about.

But enough was enough, both of them decided that they were going to get your attention one way or another.

As you exited you class, you sighed as you slinged your bag on your shoulder, the bag was heavy a reminder of all the homework you had to do.

"Ok I finish reading chapters one through twenty and then I can start my essay and give my self enough time-" you muttered to yourself but promptly stopped as your eyes landed on two figures. Remus and Sirius. Quickly and without blinking you turned your heel and began to walk the other way.

"No wait- hold on love" you heard Sirius voice as he catched up to you, now this is the one time you cursed Sirius and Remus's great hieght becasue with a couple of strides they had already caught up to you.

"Dove please" Remus said almost pleadingly. The nickname made you stop walking. The boys both next to you.

"Merlin's beard, your worse than a snitch, I don't even think James would be able to catch you" Sirius huffed in light laughter, Remus smiled soflty.

"We've been looking for you " said Remus

"You have?" you responed in a quiet voice

"yes love, for what feels like an eternity-"

"two months" Remus corrected

"felt like forver to me" huffed Sirius his lips almost pouting

"what for?" you ask

"well we wanted to ask you something actually" Remus started

"We want you so bad" blurted Sirius, now that made you completely freeze up.

"Sirius we said we were going slow" hissed Remus, swatting his partner gently on the shoulder.

"I can't- this will not be a slow burn love, I will not allow it" He shakes his head before grabbing your hand.

"Love, please we've been going crazy without you, you drive us insane and we want you in all ways possible, please let us treat you right, we won't ever hurt you and your days will be filled with love and passion-"Sirius's love declaration was cut of by his boyfriend.

"Pads you're scaring her" He says as he had been wacthing your reaction and it was all wide eyed and he wore you had stopped breathing for a moment. Sirius quickly shut up, the quickest Remus had ever seen him. After a moment of silence you finally spoke.

"You want me- you both want me ?" you sputtered finally breathing again

"Most ardently" Remus answered. You look between both boys, whom you've had been crushing onf for so long, who you had never ever in your life believed that they would ever look at you in that way but here they were. Sirius basically on his knees begging you to talk and Remus with his beautiful eyes asking, no pleading for a positive response. You drew in a deep breathe before answering.

"I want you guys too" You confess

"Praise Merlin and David Bowie she said yes Remus!" exclaimed Sirius.

"Yes I heard her love thank you" chuckled Remus who was now looking you fondly. Sirius who was still holding your hand gave it a small squeeze.

"Did you hear how Remus pulled a Mr. Darcy on you "

after almost decade of using AO3, i have just found out that you can put it on dark mode.

NO MORE BEING BLINDED BY FICS

TURNING THE STUFFIES AWAY LMAOOOOO

this is based on the artwork of rhaenicent by tcn_tancha on x. please see the replies for the link!

my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."

bruh. just saw a video on twitter of the prettiest boy fucking his hand as he was eating his lady out… like he was so so so incredibly desperate and all i could think about is sweet sweet suguru geto who breathes to please his perfect little girlfriend and gets so fucking horny doing so.

cw cunnilingus, masturbation, multiple orgasms implied

like his legs just shamelessly sprawled, bare back slumped against the edge of the bed while the base of his head presses into the messy, ruffled duvet. the slender column of his throat is exposed and he’s arched so sexily, spine bowing almost achingly as his stomach caves, hips rutting.

he’s completely bare; that long, writhing body seated so erotically on the carpeted floor, you on his face. as his narrow frame stretches allll the way up the side of the bed, your body is perched right against his lips. you sit on the edge of the bed, feet resting upon his shoulders, your warm, swollen clit repeatedly glissading over his button nose while you ride him so fucking good.

god and his mouuthhhh. he’s completely unabashed as he indulgently devours you, glossy lips noisily smacking against your pretty, dripping cunt—tongue so fucking hot and wet as he hungrily pushes it inside of you, feasting like you’re a plate of the finest delicacy. a loud cry leaves you and his hips buck in response, chasing the furious jerk of his fist as you fuck his face like the toy he so desperately needs to be.

the pad of his thumb is swiping over the warm, leaking head of his cock at the same time he’s pulling your pretty lil’ clit between his greedy lips and sucking. every sound that leaves you is reciprocated, lost in the unruly wet depths of your cunt as he utterly embodies your pleasure, breaths synchronous.

“mmphf,” his pleasureful cries are muffled, dampened by the warmth of your cunt as you grind it onto his tongue. “f— fuck my t-tongue… moreee, gimme more.” greed drips from his tone, his broken sentences growing lower and whinier with unbearable need. “god, come hereeee.”

geto’s vacant hand is snaking up your waist, clinging to the thick of your hip before dragging you impossibly closer, smothering himself between the fat of your thighs like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. you gasp and geto moans, flattening his tongue to finish you the only way he knows how, sloppily.

and there are just so many orgasms… geto is probably three or four deep and you’re not far behind. you lean forward onto the mattress before firmly planting your wobbly hands against the disheveled sheets, grounding yourself so that you can properly fuck your pussy into his mouth, chasing your release for the third time in a row.

“fuck! thereee,” it’s hardly a growl as you sluttily arch your back, an electrifying heat torpedoing toward your achingly swollen clit. “there… right fucking there, god!”

he’s feral, heavy balls tightening in a horrendous need to release as he forces precum from the swollen head of his cock. the vein that runs along the underside of his pretty, hooked shaft is hot against the palm of his jerking hand, throbbing so desperately with each drag of his fist. god, he’s a fucking mess with it too—all of his previous loads stickily cascading down his pectorals and abdomen, chest heaving.

your final orgasm is synchronous, the two of you creaming at once. geto is obnoxious, moaning like such a slut as he greedily slurps you up, noisily cleaning your sloppy little hole free of the mess you’ve made. once again, he cums a lot and hard, panting against your slick cunt between his tender kisses to your ravaged clit.

drunkenly, geto smiles up from between your thighs. “one more?”

Toji fucking you while Shiu is on the phone because he just can’t help himself. You just make his him feel so good, why should he stop if it’s only his silly handler is calling?

You’re trying to say quiet as your boyfriend’s cock slams in and out of you from below, his hips doing all of the work for you; you tapped out a while ago after your 2nd or 3rd earth shattering orgasm. But how can you not whimper and moan pathetically when Toji is quite literally fucking you into a higher plain of existence?

Shiu can obviously hear all of this. He only called to tell Toji about a job he has for him, but was instantly met with the muffled sounds of your cries and pleas.

“T-Toji! H-hang up…” your voice is so broken, so whiny, both men can tell that you’re nearly past your limit.

“Hold on, doll,” Toji’s gruff voice crackles from the other end of Shiu’s phone, “just a quick call…”

“Fushiguro, this conversation can be held another—“

“Nah,” he interrupts his handler with a huff, “keep going.”

For a moment, Shiu isnt sure if Toji is talking to him or you, who is obviously falling apart on his cock. He only realizes it’s the former when another grunt of his name snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Well…you’ve got a hit for a client we’ve worked with before; a big one, and—“

Shiu stops when he hears a muffled gasp on the other end of the line, followed by the sound of choked out whimpers.

“Yeah?” Toji groans. “Which client?”

He’s currently got you under him now, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you. Each thrust of his cock perfectly reaches your abused g-spot, making it harder and harder for you to keep your moans hushed. What makes it even more difficult, although, is the fact that Toji’s smug face tells you that he knows this, so when you see one of his hands snake down to rub slow circles against your clit you know that this is all part of his plan.

“W-Well…the client from…” Shiu can barely catch his breath as he sits behind his desk, trying not to give in and palm his aching cock through his work slacks.

“What’s up, boss man?” Toji chuckles from the other end, “something on your mind?”

That sick son of a bitch. Shiu’s fist balls atop his desk, the hand holding his phone shaking slightly from how hard he’s gripping it. “Fushiguro,” he breathes out. He doesn’t have to say anything else, because the tone of his voice tells Toji all he needs to know.

“What? My girl’s pretty little sounds making you all flustered? Or is it the sound of her gushing around my cock?”

Shiu clears his throat, running a hand over his face. “You’re such a sick fuck,” he says.

“I’m the sick fuck?” Toji scoffs jovially. “You’re the one who’s still on the phone.”

♡dilf!nanami♡

warnings: baby fever, mating press, unprotected sex, cumming inside

art creds to @hercaptain and @narutoss.ramen

dilf!nanami who is the girl dad ever.

in fact, when dilf!nanami heard you were expecting girl twins, he was already ordering the matching pink strollers and cribs and little newborn baby onesies.

dilf!nanami who throughout your entire pregnancy, was plastered to your side, making sure your every need was meet, and constantly with a hand on your tummy, feeling for the little baby kicks.

dilf!nanami who when the babies were first born, was with you every step of the way, getting up out of bed at three in the morning if it meant his tired wife could get a few extra hours of sleep, feeding bottles to both of them if your breasts were too sore, rocking them in his big beefy arms and whispering how “daddy’s here”, and even strapping them to his chest in baby slings while he ran errands.

dilf!nanami who you can find cooing at your baby girls, making them giggle as he bounces them on his lap, blowing raspberries on their tummies and tickling them as he keeps them entertained for you.

and not only is dilf!nanami the best father, but he’s also the best husband.

dilf!nanami who after tucking in the babies to bed, tiptoes away to your bedroom.

because while he has to make sure the babies are tended to, he also needs to tend to his baby.

dilf!nanami who takes quick strides to your shared bedroom, wasting no time in sprawling his buff frame over you, pinning you easily down as he huffs hoarsely in your ear, “kids are asleep” while his bulge presses into your soft tummy.

dilf!nanami who is already half-hard at just seeing your chubbed belly and plush hips, your post-pregnancy body was just so tantalizing to him.

dilf!nanami whose hands roam your body with a desperate kind of need, squeezing and kneading tenderly as he places kisses all along your neck and jaw.

dilf!nanami who grunts lowly as your grabby hands reach for his cock, hastily pulling down his boxers until his length slaps against his stomach, spilling pearlescent beads of oozing precum across himself.

dilf!nanami who is huuung, swollen balls and thickened base all leading up to a perfectly symmetrical cock, the tip flushed an angry red and twitching wildly at your gaze.

dilf!nanami who quickly hooks a finger into your panties, shoving them aside before lining himself up, so heavy between your legs you can't help the small moan of anticipation you let out, wriggling your hips up impatiently.

dilf!nanami who only chuckles at his wife's eagerness, too quick to oblige as he begins to push in, past that first tight ring of muscle while you suck him in deeper.

dilf!nanami who groans at the greediness of your slobbering pussy, already trying to milk him for all he's worth as you clamp on tight around him.

"f-fuck, m'.. hah.. gonna cum if you don't stop sucking me in like that sweetie."

dilf!nanami who begins to roll his hips forward, filling you up inch by inch as your moans slur together, tongue lolling out dumbly.

he was just so big, you couldn't help it if you were already cock-drunk!

dilf!nanami who watches as your eyes roll back in your head when he starts up a mean pace, hips snapping into yours ferally while your spit-glossed lips hang open helplessly.

dilf!nanami whose hand comes down between your legs to stroke your twitching clit, the cool metal of his silver wedding band making you jolt with pleasure as you squirm under him.

dilf!nanami's baritone rumble of your name brings you back, as he suddenly throws your legs over his broad-framed shoulders, candied pink lips crashing onto yours in a craze as he folds you into a nasty mating press.

"wan' .. hah.. make ya a pretty mama again.."

"what?" you're gasping for breath, eyelashes fluttering as a familiar coiling heat begins to pool low in your tummy, winding closer with every harsh smack! of his hips into yours.

"can you do that f'me, my love?" dilf!nanami's words have begun to slur, eyes glossy as his throat bobs, pushing your legs up higher 'n higher. "have my babies again?"

drool has begun to seep out of the corners of your lips and with a mindless nod, you find dilf!nanami's hips bucking sloppily as he gets closer.

"say it."

you feel your tummy knotting achingly tight and with a hoarse cry you practically scream out, "k-ken' make me a mommy again! please!" before you're cumming, and cumming hard, creaming all over his cock until it's forming a little ring at his base.

dilf!nanami who is cumming seconds after you, your filthy words sending him over the edge with a soft groan as ribbons 'n' ribbons of hot, milky cum are shooting into you, filling you endlessly up until you're clawing at his back and crying with how stuffed you feel.

dilf!nanami who shudders and jerks over you, whispering small praises as the last wispy remnants of his seed empty into you, fingers coming to stuff the glossy dredges beginning to seep out of your ruined pussy back in.

you hiccup softly, whilst dilf!nanami shushes and coos at you to take it all, lovingly stroking your cheek and placing small kisses on your face while you recover.

dilf!nanami who after giving you a couple more orgasms and tiring you out, hears the babies begin to wail from the other room, tucking you in snugly before whispering “i’ll do it, you get some rest my pretty mama..”

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